Jennie Lucas

Carrying The Spaniard's Child


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never should have come here.” Tears were burning the backs of her eyes. But she’d let him see her cry once, that dark January night, and he’d lured her into destruction with his sweet kisses and honeyed words. She’d die before she let him ever see her weak again. “Forget about the baby. Forget I even exist.” Stopping at the door, she looked back at him one last time. “I wish any man but you could have been the father of my baby,” she choked out. “It’s a mistake I’ll regret the rest of my life.”

      Turning, she left, rushing past the snooty butler and beautiful, rich guests who looked like they’d never had a single problem in their glamorous lives. She went outside, nearly tripping down the steps into the cooling night air. She ran halfway down the block in her flip-flops before she realized Santiago wasn’t following her.

      Good. She didn’t care. When she reached her old 1978 Chevy pickup, she started up the engine with a roar. Her hands didn’t stop shaking until she was past the Lincoln Tunnel.

      From the first day they’d met, she’d known Santiago was dark-hearted poison. How could she have been so stupid to let him seduce her?

      For one night, let me give you joy. Without strings. Without consequences.

      Belle choked out a sob as she gripped the steering wheel, driving south on the Jersey Turnpike. She was thrilled about the baby, but what she would have given to have any other man as the father!

      For the last few months, when Santiago hadn’t returned her phone messages, she’d told herself that she and the baby would be better off without him. But part of her had secretly hoped for another miracle—that if she told Santiago she was pregnant, he’d want to be a father. A husband. That they could all love each other, and be happy.

      So stupid.

      She wiped her eyes. Instead Santiago had not only cavalierly abandoned his unborn baby, he’d insulted Belle and thrown her out of his house for daring to tell him she was pregnant!

      The truly shocking thing was that she was even surprised. He’d made his feelings clear from the beginning. He thought babies were a thankless responsibility and love was for suckers.

      Belle cried until her eyes burned, then at midnight, pulled over to a roadside motel to sleep fitfully till dawn.

      The next day, the hypnotic road started to calm her. She started feeling like she’d dodged a bullet. She didn’t need a cold, heartless man wrecking her peace of mind and breaking their child’s heart. Better that Santiago abandon them now rather than later.

      By the third day, as the mile markers passed and she left the green rolling hills of east Texas behind, she started to recognize the familiar landscape of home, and her heart grew lighter. There was something soothing about the wide horizons stretching out forever, with nothing but sagebrush and the merciless summer sun in the unrelenting blue sky.

      Feeling a sweet flutter inside her, Belle put a hand to her belly. “So be it,” she whispered aloud. This baby would be hers alone. She would spend the rest of her life appreciating this miracle, devoting herself to her child.

      It was still morning, but already growing hot. The air conditioning in her pickup didn’t work, but both windows were rolled down, so it was all right. Though she was lucky it wasn’t raining because one of them wouldn’t roll back up.

      As she drew in to the edges of her small town, she took a deep breath. Home. Though it wasn’t the same, without her younger brothers. Ray now lived in Atlanta and twenty-one-year-old Joe in Denver. But at least here, the world made sense.

      But as she pulled into the dirt driveway, she abruptly slammed on the brake.

      A big black helicopter was parked in the sagebrush prairie, tucked behind her house.

      She sucked in her breath. A helicopter? Then she saw the two hulking bodyguards prowling nearby. That could only mean...

      With an intake of breath, she looked straight at the old wooden house with the peeling paint. Her heart stopped.

      Standing on the wooden porch, with arms grimly folded, was Santiago.

      What was he doing here?

      Fear pounded through her as she turned off the engine of her truck.

      With a deep breath, Belle got out of her old pickup, tossing her long brown ponytail, slamming the door with a rusty squeak.

      “What are you doing in Texas?” She lifted her chin to hide the tremble in her voice. “Let me guess. Did you think up some new ways to insult me?”

      He came down the rickety wooden steps toward her, his black eyes glittering. “Three nights ago, you showed up at my house with a very shocking accusation.”

      “You mean I accused you of getting me pregnant?” Waving her arm, she said furiously, “Such a horrible accusation! No wonder you wanted me to get the hell out!”

      Standing on the last step above her, he ground his teeth. “I was calling your bluff. It was a negotiation. I expected you to swiftly return with a demand for a specific sum of money.”

      Calling her announcement of pregnancy a negotiation! He was just the worst! A lump rose in her throat. Blinking fast, she turned toward his entourage and helicopter in the field. She said evenly, “How did you find my address?”

      “Easy.”

      “You must have been waiting for hours.”

      “Twenty minutes.”

      “Twenty! How?” She gasped. “There was no way you could know when I’d get here. Even I didn’t know exactly!”

      He gave a grim smile. “That was more difficult.”

      “Were you tracking my truck? Spying on me?”

      “Stop changing the subject,” he said coldly. He stepped closer on the packed dirt driveway, towering a foot over her. His black eyes traced the length of her body, from her oversized T-shirt to her shorts to her flip-flops, and a flash of heat coursed through her. “You were telling the truth? The baby is mine?”

      “Of course the baby’s yours!”

      “How can I trust a proven liar?”

      “When did I lie?” she said indignantly.

      “‘I can’t get pregnant, ever,’” he mimicked. “‘It’s impossible.’”

      “You are such a jerk.” Belle shivered, sweating beneath the hot Texas sun.

      His voice had been low, controlled, but she felt his cold fury. He was all gorgeous on the outside, she thought, like melted chocolate with his soulful Spanish eyes and black hair and hard-muscled body. Too bad his soul was even harder than his body. He had a soul like flint. Like ice.

      Just when she’d been counting her blessings that he was out of their lives, here he was, pushing back in. For what purpose?

      “You made your choice,” she whispered. “You abandoned us. This baby is mine now. Mine alone.”

      He lifted a dark eyebrow. “That’s not how paternity works.”

      “It is if I say it is.”

      “Then why tell me you were pregnant at all?”

      “Because three days ago I was foolish enough to hope you could change. Now I know it would be better for my baby to have no father at all than a man like you.” She lifted her chin. “Now get off my land.”

      Growing dangerously still, Santiago stared at her, jaw tight. Without a word, he turned to stare across the stark horizon against the wide blue sky. Against her will, her eyes traced the golden glow of the sun gleaming against his olive-colored skin, the chiseled cheekbones, the dark scruff on his jaw.

      “Let me tell you what’s going to happen, Belle.” When he looked back at her, his voice was low and deep, almost a purr. “Today, you’re going to get a paternity