Delores Fossen

Daddy Devastating


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situation again? She didn’t have the answer for that yet, but she wouldn’t just stand around and whimper about this, and she wouldn’t give up without a fight.

      She cleared her throat so her voice would have some sound. “What’s going on?” she asked Russell.

      Not that she expected him to tell her. So far, he hadn’t volunteered much, and she didn’t trust him any further than she could throw him. Still, Russell had stepped in front of her when the men first appeared, and he appeared to be trying to protect her. For all the good it’d do.

      They literally had two guns aimed right at them.

      Julia felt the jolt of panic and tried to get it under control before it snowballed. Not easy to do. Everything inside her was telling her to run for her life.

      “Keep quiet,” Russell growled. “Stay calm. And slow down your breathing.” He glanced back at her, his coffee-brown eyes narrowed and intense. His gaze slashed from one end of the alley to the other, and he finally lifted his hands in surrender.

      “Who are you?” Russell asked the man.

      The ski-masked gunman stayed put, but the other one walked closer. He was dressed better than his partner. His crisp khakis and pale blue shirt made him look more like a preppy college professor than a criminal, and there were some threads of gray in his dark hair. But there was no doubt in Julia’s mind that this man was up to no good.

      “Who are you?” the preppy guy echoed, aiming his stare at Russell.

      “Jimmy Marquez,” Russell replied.

      Julia hoped she didn’t look surprised that he’d given them that name—the same one he’d used in the bar when she had first approached him. It wasn’t his real name, she was sure of that. She’d paid Sentron Securities too much money for them to make a mistake like that.

      “And who the hell are you?” Russell added, staring at the approaching man.

      “Milo.”

      She felt the muscles in Russell’s arm relax. Why, she didn’t know.

      “Well, it’s about damn time you showed up,” Russell snarled. “You should have been here yesterday. I waited in that bar half the night for you.”

      Milo offered no apology, no explanation. He merely lifted his shoulder and tipped his head to the ski-masked guy.

      Both men lowered their weapons.

      That didn’t make Julia breathe any easier. Something dangerous and probably illegal was likely about to happen, and she had no idea if she could rely on Russell. Thankfully, he kept his gun gripped in his hand.

      She held on to the pepper spray.

      Lissa had been stupid, or duped, to get involved with a man like Russell Gentry. Julia should have ignored Lissa’s deathbed request that she personally find the father of Lissa’s child. There was no way Julia would hand over the baby to the likes of him, and it didn’t matter that she would be violating Lissa’s dying wish.

      “Who’s the woman?” Milo asked, staring holes into Julia.

      As much as she distrusted Russell, Julia distrusted this one even more.

      “Julia Howell,” Russell said.

      Mercy, he’d used her real name. Not that it would matter who she was to these men. But she preferred that criminals not know who she was.

      “She’s a friend,” Russell added, “and she was just leaving.” He nudged Julia in the direction of the front of the alley, and that was the only invitation Julia needed to get moving. She turned.

      But didn’t get far.

      Milo stepped in front of her, calmly reached out and took her purse. Did he intend to rob her? Julia didn’t care. She only wanted out of there. But he blocked her again when she tried to move.

      “She’s not carrying a weapon,” Russell said.

      But Milo didn’t take his word for it. The man dug through her purse and pulled out the three pictures inside. He glanced at the first two, shoved them back inside, but the third picture he held up.

      It was the one of Lissa’s baby.

      Julia could feel her pulse thicken and throb. The throbbing got worse, and she tried to snatch the photo from his hand. Milo held on and aimed his stony gaze at Russell.

      “Is this one of the babies you’ve acquired?” Milo asked.

      Julia started to speak up, to tell them that the child was her cousin’s, but then she remembered something Russell had asked before the goons showed up.

       “Is this the kid the seller’s offering?”

      Sweet heaven. What was going on here? Were these men involved with black-marketing babies? If so, they weren’t going to get their hands on Emily. She would kill them before she let that happen.

      “No. It’s my kid,” Russell said. “Julia came here to tell me that I’m a daddy. Fate can sure be a kick in the butt, huh?”

      Milo volleyed glances between the photo and Russell. “This is your child?”

      There was skepticism in his tone, but Julia figured Milo had to see the resemblance. Baby Emily had the shape of her daddy’s mouth and his sandy brown hair. Of course, Emily looked sweet and innocent, whereas her father, well, he just looked dangerous. That’d been Julia’s first impression of him anyway, and he wasn’t doing anything to change that.

      Russell turned, angling his body, so he could slip his arm around her waist. The corner of his mouth hitched into a cocky smile that only he and a rock star could have managed to pull off, and those dark brown eyes that’d been so intense just a second earlier, softened.

      It was an act.

      “Yeah, that’s my kid,” Russell said to Milo, but the fake smile was directed at her. “Julia and I have got some things to work out, but the old feelings are still there,” he added, all slow and sexy.

      Then he leaned in. Too close. Julia was certain she stiffened and looked stunned. Because she did. But that didn’t stop Russell. He caught onto the back of her neck and hauled her to him.

      He kissed her!

      She didn’t fight him, though she considered it, but decided to wait and see where this was going. However, she got her pepper spray ready just in case.

      He moved his mouth over hers as if this were something they did every day. He was good at the facade. Very good. And for just a split second Julia’s body reacted to the man who was doling out that one, hot kiss.

      And, sadly, he was hot, too.

      In that split second, she understood the attraction that had no doubt drawn Lissa to him. She hated it, especially since she was feeling it herself. But she understood it. Russell Gentry, with his butt-hugging jeans, cowboy boots and too-long hair, was the kind of man who reminded a woman that she was indeed a woman.

      A reminder she never wanted to feel again.

      She slapped her hand on his chest, pushed him away and glared at him. But Russell only chuckled.

      “Julia’s upset that I missed the birth of our little one.” Russell stared at her when he spoke. His tone was all light, but the facade didn’t make it to his eyes. He was giving her a warning to stay quiet. “But she understands how important my work is. She knows I need to make a living. That’s why she’ll head out while we talk business.”

      Milo made a grunting sound that could have meant anything, and he didn’t say a word for several moments. Julia felt every one of those moments in her held breath and racing heart.

      “I have a better idea,” Milo finally responded, and there was sarcasm in both his tone and body language. “You spend the evening with your girlfriend and baby, and I’ll call you about another meeting.”