by Unknown
. . .
Theresa had barely kept from laughing her head off until she was in the hall. Miss Goody-Goody had learned she wasn’t any better than the other women in her family. She just had to figure out how this could help her. One thing, marriage to that cop couldn’t happen. Nathalyia would be easier to manipulate and con if she was alone and miserable.
She frowned. She needed to get rid of Jake and Clarice, but she hadn’t figured out a way to have them fired. She would. Maybe push fatso into losing that temper and hitting her. In the meantime she would keep playing on little sister’s sympathies and reminding her how she let Mama die begging for her. How Mama wanted them to be close. What crap! She couldn’t believe Nathalyia fell for that big-ass lie.
Their Mama never thought of anyone but herself. The day she died she was cursing the nurse because she was late with her pain shot. Medicare took care of all the medical bills, not that Theresa would have paid one cent if they hadn’t. She wasn’t going out like that, poor and helpless. Neither was she jumping into bed with any horny bastard for money, no matter how old or ugly, like Paula. Nathalyia was going to give her what she deserved. Everything.
Nathalyia could deny her all she wanted. It would give her more ammunition to blackmail her stupid self. She’d do anything to protect her old fart of a dead husband’s reputation and the restaurant. Theresa could think of some pretty wild tales that the newspapers would love to print. Maybe she would get on TV.
In the meantime she was bringing in more money with her sideline than she thought possible. She wouldn’t work one minute at the restaurant if she didn’t have plans. Served Nathalyia right to get screwed thinking she would. Yeah, her time was coming, and little Nat was going to pay though the nose.
Nathalyia rehearsed what she planned to say to Rafael over and over, but no matter how she seemed to phrase it, she sounded like a heartless slut. She wanted—no, needed—to end this tonight before she lost her courage. She would have preferred that Rafael not hate her, but she didn’t appear to have a choice.
There was the briefest knock on her door before it opened, and Clarice came in. “Rafael is here. Theresa is in his face, as usual, but unlike usual, he’s not being nice in deflecting her advances. Clearly, he has someone else on his mind.”
No matter how petty, Nathalyia was glad he wasn’t the least bit tempted by Theresa. “Please ask him to come to my office.”
Clarice hesitated. “You sure about how you’re going to play this out?”
“No, but I can’t think of anything else,” Nathalyia answered.
Clarice nodded. “I’ll go get Rafael.”
The door closed. Nathalyia stepped behind her desk to make their conversation less personal.
This time there wasn’t a knock. The door opened abruptly and Rafael was there—handsome, arousing. It was almost as if he had wanted to catch her off guard. It worked. For long moments, she couldn’t hide the naked desire in her eyes. She was achingly aware when his narrowed that he had seen her reaction. The same desire stared back at her.
Her hands clenched in her lap. “Thank you for coming.”
He quickly crossed the room, but instead of stopping in front of her desk, he came around it to hunker down beside her and take her hands in his. “I’ll always be there for you.”
How she wished it were true, but she knew otherwise. She slid her hands free. He was too close and compelling. She wanted to reach out and brush her hand over his hair, cup his strong jaw, lay her head on his broad shoulder. “Please have a seat.”
For a second it looked as if he might not comply, then he went to the chair positioned in front of her desk. He didn’t sit down. “What changed between the other night and yesterday morning?”
He clearly didn’t intend for there to be any small talk. Perhaps that was for the best. However, she discovered she couldn’t just blurt her pregnancy out. “I didn’t plan for this to happen this way. I just want you to know that.”
“Just say it.” He crossed his arms across his chest.
She’d never seen him so impatient with her. One of the things she had liked and admired about Rafael was his easygoing manner. He took things as they came and made her laugh and enjoy life. Her throat clogged. That wouldn’t happen this time.
“Nathalyia,” he urged, clearly approaching his limit.
“I’m pregnant,” she said. She watched the words sink in, his eyes widen, and his hands come to his sides. She had wanted to see joy spread across his face, not disbelief. Or was it horror?
“It’s not yours,” she said and watched helplessly as anger slowly crept across the face she once simply loved to gaze at.
“There’s another man?” he asked, moving toward her, his voice incredulous and filled with fury.
“No,” she rushed on to say. She swallowed, looked away. “It’s rather complicated.”
“Considering that it can happen only one way, I don’t think so.”
His sarcasm helped her to gain her composure and continue. “That’s where you’re wrong. Martin wanted children. Before he became ill, he had his sperm frozen. The week before I met you I went to the clinic and was inseminated.”
His stare grew colder with each passing second.
“It was wrong and thoughtless of me to go out with you after the procedure, but you caught me at a weak, reflective moment.”
His gaze dropped to her belly and then lifted. She shrank back from the growing anger in his face.
She deserved the condemnation she saw in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” “Are you sure it’s his and not mine?”
She hadn’t expected that question. She thought he would just leave. “We always used condoms. Besides, I’m further along.”
“Then you’ve been to the doctor?”
“Why all the questions?” she asked. “The baby isn’t yours.”
“I just never figured you’d be the type of woman to use a man. Or did you just want to know how a real man could make you feel?” he tossed in.
She gasped. “Goodbye, Rafael.”
Without another word, he turned and walked out the door. This time he didn’t stop.
Nathalyia slumped in her chair, placed her head on her desk and cried.
She’d done it, and she’d never felt more lonely or hopeless.
Rafael didn’t stop until he was in his car, but he didn’t attempt to start the motor. He was in no condition to drive.
It was over. She might care about him, but obviously she still loved her husband. There was no way to compete.
Nathalyia was pregnant with her dead husband’s baby. He’d heard of men freezing their sperm, of course. He couldn’t get over the initial shock, then the unexpected rush of joy when she first said she was pregnant. But hearing her say the baby wasn’t his was a sucker punch.
It had flashed though his mind that the baby should have been his. He shook his head and put the key in the ignition. Crazy thought.
The car roared to life. He checked his rearview mirror, backed up, and pulled off. Of all the things he had tried to come up with that were bothering her, he’d never thought of her being pregnant, and certainly not by her deceased husband.
Jake knew how upset Nathalyia was when she didn’t make her usual rounds and didn’t protest when he suggested he drive her home in her car after the restaurant closed. Brushing away tears that tore at his heart, she’d gotten her handbag from her desk and quietly followed him out of the restaurant.
Clarice was waiting for them. He’d walked her out earlier so she could park beside Nathalyia. For once she hadn’t argued. She was independent and opinionated, but tonight she’d been so worried about Nathalyia. Clarice was also angry because Theresa had overheard them and hadn’t seemed to care that Nathalyia wasn’t feeling well.
He was a bit torn. He wanted Clarice there if Nathalyia needed help getting to bed, but he didn’t want her driving home so late by herself. Opening the passenger door of the vintage Rolls, he helped Nathalyia into the car and turned t
o Clarice. “Maybe I should just follow you home.”
“We’ve had this discussion.” She went to her Maxima and climbed inside.
Aware that she wasn’t going to change her mind, he drove to Nathalyia’s house. Parking in the garage, he helped her out of the car. Clarice joined them at the back door.
Punching in the lock code, Nathalyia opened the door and shut off the alarm. Each movement seemed to be an effort. “T-Thank you. I can manage from here.”
“Sure you can,” Clarice said, catching her arm. She knew where Nathalyia’s bedroom was located. Every year Martin, then Nathalyia closed the restaurant and gave a big July Fourth party at their house for the employees and their families. “I’ll just tag along. You know Jake isn’t budging until you’re tucked in bed.”
“Martin wanted me to take care of you,” Jake answered dutifully.
Nathalyia bit her lower lip. “I feel as if I’ve dishonored his memory.”
Jake went to her. “Martin loved you. He’d never think that. You know how much he wanted children. He would have welcomed the child.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Bed,” Clarice said.
Nathalyia turned and went through the large kitchen to the staircase. She paused. “He hates me, and I can’t blame him.”
“He’s hurt, but he doesn’t hate you,” Clarice said. “Let’s get you into bed.”
“I won’t be able to sleep,” Nathalyia said, but she began slowly climbing the stairs.
“Then you’ll just get off your feet and rest.” Clarice curved an arm around her waist.
Jake watched them slowly climb the stairs. What a mess. Nathalyia was wrong not to tell Rafael, but it was her decision. He hadn’t appeared the type of man to turn his back on his child or a woman he cared about. Jake had pushed him, but he’d never backed down. Nathalyia hadn’t given him much choice.
Caring about a woman could tie a man up in knots. He knew that. He’d loved Clarice for so long. It had snuck up on him. He hadn’t realized he was falling for her until he’d seen her kissing some jerk who had picked her up after work. He’d wanted to smash the guy’s face in.
His hand rubbed over his own face, felt the scar that ran the length of his left cheek. At the time, the doctors had said how lucky he was that the knife hadn’t been lower and cut his jugular. He’d never been handsome, so he’d agreed with them—until he was released from the army and returned home.
He drew stares wherever he went. He was an oddity. He’d drank a lot in those days, and chose to do his drinking in a back booth at Fontaine. He’d known Martin before he left for his second tour of duty. If Martin had a free moment, he’d stop by his booth and quietly lecture him about getting on with his life. Finally, it had settled in, and he’d started to live again.
Clarice came down the stairs. Jake met her and saw tears sparkling in her beautiful green eyes. “Oh, Jake, she’s so unhappy.”
“Hush now.” Without thought, he took Clarice in his arms. He realized his mistake instantly. He felt her warmth, the lush softness he’d craved for so long. He needed to step back while he could. Her cheek and breasts were pressed against his chest and tested his willpower.
“I feel so helpless.” She lifted her head to stare up at him.
Jake looked down into eyes sparkling with tears and forgot all the reasons he needed to release her. His fingers flexed, tightened on her arms. His gaze locked on her mouth.
Her lips parted as if she wanted to speak. The temptation to know the pleasure of her mouth was too powerful to resist. He brushed his lips across hers, then settled. His tongue gently swept inside her mouth. He gathered her closer as he deepened the kiss.
Her tongue touched his. Fire and need exploded inside him. He wanted her. His hand swept down her back, settling on her hips, bringing her against his hard arousal.
Her soft moan jerked him back to reality. He pushed her away, saw her lips still moist from his kiss, and wanted nothing more than to drag her into his arms again.
Clarice wasn’t for him. “I’m sorry.” Turning, Jake practically ran from the room.
Clarice stared after him. A slow smile formed on her lips. “Well, I’ll be.”
FOURTEEN
Rafael slammed the front door of his house. He was in a foul mood, and it wasn’t about to get better anytime soon. He couldn’t get Nathalyia’s words out of his head no matter how hard he tried.
“It’s not yours.”
What kind of woman did something like that? How could she have gone to bed with him after having that procedure done?
You caught me at a weak, reflective moment.
Rafael stripped off his shirt, heading to his weight room. He picked up his gloves, barely laced them up before he was hitting the punching bag. He’d been a convenient substitute, as he’d told her. Only, at the time, he hadn’t felt that way.
He had been with enough women to know when they were faking. Nathalyia certainly wasn’t. Two more quick jabs to the bag.
So she had wanted to experience the real thing! Thump. Thump. So he’d been a convenient stud. His anger escalated. He’d been with women before who just wanted the sex. He accepted that because that was all he wanted. He didn’t want lasting love, or the tears when it was over.
He stopped, remembering the tears sparkling on Nathalyia’s face; and rolling down. Why? Hormones? For a man who thought he knew women inside out, he was batting zero on this one. He didn’t have a clue.
The phone rang on the small desk. He jerked his head in that direction, his heart thumped. He didn’t lie to himself. He wanted it to be her, but somehow he knew it wasn’t. Nathalyia wasn’t the indecisive type. Obviously she’d thought long and hard before she told him.
Jerking off a glove, he started to the phone. He guessed he should be glad she told him now instead of stringing him along or, worse, trying to make him believe it was his.
Something twisted in his gut at the thought of her carrying another man’s child. He couldn’t be jealous of a dead man. How stupid would that be?
He snatched up the phone just before the fifth ring when it would have gone into voice mail. “Yeah!”
There was the briefest pause. “You all right?”
Rafael stared at the ceiling. What a time for Sam to call. “I’m kind of busy here.”
“Is Nathalyia with you?” came the tentative question.
“No.” Rafael stripped off the other glove and tossed both toward the bench where he kept his equipment. “And she won’t be.”
“Talk to me, Rafael,” Sam said.
“I don’t feel like talking,” Rafael said, shoving his hand over his hair and heading for the kitchen.
“Precisely why you should be talking. Helen and I both liked her,” Sam went on to say. “We kind of hoped she’d be the one for you.”
Rafael’s hand paused while reaching for the refrigerator door. “We were just dating.”
“You helped her with the carnival. I don’t recall you ever volunteering with the other women.”
“I like kids,” Rafael said, and felt the tightening in his stomach.
“You brought her to the house,” Sam pointed out.
“It just happened. I thought she didn’t have family at the time,” Rafael said. “Man, is that going to change.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Sam.” Rafael reached for the refrigerator door.
“Talk to me or to Helen,” Sam came back.
The refrigerator door closed again. All of the Dunlap brothers loved Helen. She fussed over them as much as she did Sam. And none of them would do anything to bring her one moment of worry. “That’s dirty.”
“She insisted I call you. She had one of her feelings, and it seems she was right,” Sam said. “You know she loves and worries about you.”
That was just it. He didn’t want anyone, especially a woman, worried about him. They had enough in life to contend with. He also didn’t wan
t Helen to blow his reaction out of proportion because of her crazy theory. “It’s complicated.”
“Since I have a master’s in criminology, the same as you and the others, I should be able to understand.”
He was also as dogged as Patrick when he got something in his head. Helen had turned Sam down a number of times before going out with him. He’d always said he knew she was the one from the moment he saw her. He’d just had to wait until she accepted her fate.
“Come on, Rafael. Helen is waiting. You know she isn’t patient and I don’t feel like dressing and driving over there, but if you won’t talk to me, you’re going to have to face her whether you’re ready or not,” Sam warned.
“We broke up. End of story,” Rafael said. “It’s the first time a woman has dumped me, so I guess I’m entitled to be a little off.”
“If that was all there was to it, you would have told me straight off, and your team members wouldn’t have had to walk easy around you today,” Sam said.
That’s what he got for being in the same station as his brother. If he found out who had the big mouth, they were going to have a little talk.
“Helen just peeped her head in the door and she’s wearing street clothes,” Sam said.
“Tell her to grab the other extension.” Rafael plopped down on the sofa.
“Rafael, we’re butting into your business because we love you,” Helen said. “Nothing has ever gotten you down like this since we lost Mother Dunlap. Even when Patrick was injured, you never doubted he’d pull through. You kept all of us sane. I like Nathalyia, but if she’s hurt you, she’s going to get a piece of my mind.”
The fierceness of his sister-in-law almost made Rafael smile. She might be a little over five feet tall, but she’d go to the mat for those she loved. He told them everything about Nathalyia’s pregnancy.
“Put the phone down for a moment, Helen,” Sam requested, then waited a beat. “You’re sure it isn’t yours?”
“You and the others taught me to be careful, and I always have been,” Rafael answered, although he had asked the same question. He hadn’t wanted to believe she could be that callous.
