an average cowboy, with his jeans, worn black leather vest and denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he also wore his privileged bloodline. It was there. In his glacier-blue eyes, and saddle-brown hair that was a little too long and messy for the boardroom, but perfect for a man who worked with both his hands and his mind.
Houston Sadler was a wealthy man. A billionaire. And he was accustomed to getting exactly what he wanted.
“Is it true?” he repeated.
Gabrielle hiked up her chin and forced herself to answer. “I did get pregnant through in vitro, but I didn’t steal an embryo. I didn’t steal anything.”
“Except a baby from the nursery at the San Antonio Maternity Hospital,” he quickly pointed out.
“My baby,” she insisted.
In the same moment, Houston said, “I want to see him. I want to see my son.”
Oh, God. This was exactly what she feared most. “Lucas is not your son. I gave birth to him.”
He rammed his thumb against his chest. “With my late wife’s embryo that you stole.” He groaned again and shook his head. “I have a son.”
She wasn’t totally immune to that painful reaction. Gabrielle almost went closer. Almost. But she forced herself to stop and think, even though her head felt foggier than it had when she’d started all of this.
“Because I’m infertile, I asked for a donor embryo from the Cryogen Clinic in San Antonio,” Gabrielle explained. “I certainly never intended to have your child. But you, on the other hand, might have wanted exactly that. Did you set all of this up so I’d be your surrogate?”
He just stared at her for several long moments. “How the hell could you think that?”
“Well, it’s one of the few theories that makes sense. Maybe, like me, you desperately wanted a baby, and you decided this was the way to go about it. You might have figured that, once I gave birth, you could step in and challenge me for custody. And then you’d have the child you always wanted with your wife.”
Houston cursed, and it seemed to take him a moment to rein in his own fit of temper. “First of all, I’d forgotten about the embryos. I thought Lizzy and I had used them all on our last try at in vitro. And if I’d wanted a surrogate, I would have hired one—the best money could buy. I wouldn’t have tricked you into it.”
Gabrielle let that sink in. Slowly. And she repeated it to herself. It sounded … reasonable but it didn’t explain everything.
“Someone’s been following me since the hostage incident,” she admitted. “I keep losing him, but then he pops up again. The last time, three days ago, the person used a dark green Range Rover.”
Houston threw up his hands. “Maybe the gunmen from the hospital had an accomplice after all. Then again, it could be your imagination running wild. You seem to have a tendency to do that.” He pointed his index finger at her. “Look, I don’t care. Right now, I only want you to take me to my son.”
“He’s not yours!” she yelled. “Lucas is mine!”
The horse whinnied and pranced around, moving even farther toward the back of the stables.
Gabrielle immediately hated the outburst. She didn’t want the sheriff and the foreman to hear her and come in after her. She didn’t want to go to jail, because heaven knows how long it would take all of this to be settled. And in the meantime, the courts would no doubt give temporary and then permanent custody to Houston.
He had both biology and money on his side. Even though she hadn’t stolen the embryo or manipulated the situation in any way, she might not be able to prove her innocence.
“Where is he?” Houston demanded.
“Someplace safe.”
That was all she intended to tell him. She might not be able to keep Lucas from him forever, but she would try.
“Three days ago, I saw the license plates of the person who followed me,” she explained. “The person driving that dark green Range Rover. And I took a picture of the plates with the camera on my cell phone. I had a friend run them through the database, and I learned the vehicle belongs to you.”
“Me?” he challenged.
“You. And that’s why I believe you’re behind this. Why else would you follow me? The cops didn’t have the latest DNA results until yesterday.” That’s when they’d called and left her a message on her work cell phone, even though they could have known earlier than that. “And they only officially told you about Lucas just now. So how did you know three days ago to follow me?”
He couldn’t have, unless he’d known about all of this before today. “This doesn’t make sense,” Houston finally said.
For the first time since she’d heard those results, Gabrielle breathed a little easier. “No, it doesn’t. And if I’m to believe that you had no part in this, then who else would have done it? ”
His glare returned. “Maybe you. Maybe you figured I was your permanent meal ticket.”
Now Gabrielle was the one to glare. They were right back where they started. It was clear she wasn’t getting anywhere with this explanation or argument, and that meant it was time to leave.
Besides, she’d already been away from Lucas for nearly three hours, and it would take her thirty minutes or more to get back to him. She’d left breast milk in a bottle for the nanny to give him, but it wouldn’t be long before her son wanted to nurse. Ditto for her. She could feel the pressure in her breasts, and that wrestling match with Houston hadn’t helped matters.
“Lucas is my son,” she said, under her breath. Only hers. And it would stay that way.
She turned and started to walk toward the back doors, but Houston latched on to her arm and spun her around.
“I will see him,” he insisted.
Gabrielle decided to placate him—or rather, lie. “All right. You can see him tomorrow morning. I’ll call you with the address.”
He didn’t exactly roll his eyes, but it was close. However, the man’s voice cut off another stinging remark he was obviously about to make.
“Houston?” the man called out, and the front stable doors flew open.
Gabrielle darted to the side, next to the stall, but instead of going in it where she’d be trapped, she ducked around the front and then behind the tack shelves again.
“Dad,” Houston answered. “What do you want?”
Mack Sadler was an older, genetic copy of Houston. Houston didn’t look at his father, but he angled his body so he could keep an eye on Gabrielle.
“I made the sheriff tell me what he told you,” Mack announced. “Is it true? Did that Markham woman really steal one of those eggs Lizzy had stored and use it to give birth to your son?”
Houston blew out a long breath before he answered. “It seems that way.”
Mack went closer, and Gabrielle used the sound of the man’s footsteps to move farther behind the shelves. She began to inch her way toward the open doors. Maybe Houston’s father would distract him long enough for her to get out of there. That was a long shot, of course, but it was the only one she had.
“Well, hell.” Mack shook his head and propped his hands on his hips. “You gotta get the boy. He’s a Sadler, and he belongs here at the ranch with us. Where is he?”
“I’m not sure,” she heard Houston say.
“Then find him. Hell, I’ll find him.” Gabrielle made it to the door, but Houston was staring at her.
“Don’t worry, I intend to get the baby,” he assured his father. “But for now, I need just a little time to come