When Lucas didn’t respond other than with a lethal glare, Finn huffed. “Since you’re a good sheriff, and since I know you’re not an ass, I’m trying hard to figure out why you’re hesitating. Is it public opinion? Gossip, maybe?” He stopped, as if considering that. “Please don’t tell me you’re concerned how your former sister-in-law would feel about Kylie staying at the ranch.”
Now, it was Lucas’s turn to huff. “Cordelia doesn’t make decisions for me.”
“That’s never stopped her from trying,” Finn mumbled. He grabbed Lucas’s hand and plopped it against Kylie’s stomach. “But whatever’s causing you to hesitate, forget it. Do what you’ve sworn to do. Protect her. Protect your baby.”
Lucas’s hand was stiff. Even through the cotton scrubs, she could feel the calluses he’d earned the hard way—by working on his ranch. His touch stayed rigid, defensive. He closed his eyes for a moment. Swallowed hard.
Then, something happened.
His touch suddenly wasn’t so hard. Wasn’t so defensive.
Finn backed away. Lucas’s hand stayed put. And his fingers moved gently over her stomach. Not far. Mere fractions of an inch. He didn’t make a sound. Didn’t say word.
But their gazes met.
And in that gaze, Kylie saw what was going on. Pain, yes. That was a given. But there was more. That gentleness wasn’t about the pain, but rather about the life growing inside her.
“My baby,” he said under his breath. “Why?” Not an accusation this time, but a plea.
She waited a moment, to clear that sudden lump in her throat. While she was at it, she prayed she wouldn’t disgrace herself again by crying. “I wanted to try to give you back what I took from you.”
He waited a moment, as well. Staring at her. Really staring. He pulled his hand away, and she immediately felt the loss of his body heat. Something stirred deep down within her. An ache. A longing. A…need.
Oh, great.
Kylie quickly shoved that ache, that longing, that blasted need aside. And silently cursed that feeling. She couldn’t associate any of those things with Lucas. Heck, it was best not to associate anything at all with him.
But shoving it aside didn’t make it so.
She felt that punch. It had to be lust. Temporary, fleeting lust brought out by hormones and adrenaline. It just had to be that, and that alone.
Because there was no other alternative.
“So, I’ll send the bagged clothes to the crime lab for you,” Finn interrupted. He grabbed a leather coat from the rack in the reception area and draped it over her shoulders. “And you’ll take Kylie to your ranch?”
But it wasn’t exactly a question. More like an impatient reminder that he couldn’t go home until they’d cleared out of his clinic.
Lucas tore his gaze from hers. “She’ll come with me,” he confirmed to Finn.
And he didn’t leave room for argument.
Not that she could argue, anyway. After all, her number one priority had to be the baby. To keep the baby safe. And to do that, she had to stay safe.
However, Kylie wasn’t sure what she feared more—the kidnappers returning or spending what was left of the night under the same roof with Lucas. The first was downright dangerous. And the second—staying with Lucas—well, after what she’d just experienced, it was a danger of a different kind. Still, it was a risk she had to take.
She didn’t protest when Lucas scooped her up in his arms and carried her outside to his truck.
Chapter Five
Lucas kept his attention fixed on the two-lane road that led from town to his ranch. It was nearly three in the morning, and there was no traffic. Not even an occasional deer or coyote to give them a diversion.
Just Kylie and him.
And within five minutes, she would be inside his house and well on her way to sleeping in one of his beds.
Nothing about that particular scenario pleased him.
Well, nothing except the part about keeping her safe. Finn was right. That was his job as sheriff, and he couldn’t pick and choose his cases.
Even if that’s exactly what he wanted to do.
“I would say thanks for doing this, but it’d probably just irritate you,” Kylie commented.
She was right.
Lucas hoped his silence conveyed that.
“Okay, so a thank-you is off-limits,” she continued a moment later. “Ditto for Marissa. I guess we could talk about the baby—”
“The baby’s off-limits, too.”
For now, anyway. However, it couldn’t stay that way for long. Someway, somehow, he’d have to come to terms with the bombshell that Kylie had delivered back at the clinic.
Lucas, I’m your surrogate, and this baby I’m carrying is yours.
He shook his head. Coming to terms with that would take a miracle.
For nearly three years, his thoughts of Kylie had been churning with anger and bitterness, and that was putting it mildly. Now what was he supposed to do? Put all that hurt and fury behind him and just accept what she’d done?
What she had done was deceive him.
She’d gone behind his back. Pulled some strings, she’d said. And she had done all of that so she could get pregnant with his child.
Oh, man.
Part of him was down-on-his-knees humbled by that. Another part was even thankful. Because he wanted this child more than anything. But what he couldn’t deal with was this baby would always have a link with Kylie. Her DNA. Her biological child just as much as his.
Hell.
How was he supposed to get past that?
Kylie. The mother of his child. A person he didn’t want to be linked with—for anything.
Other than their brief history of working together, they didn’t have anything in common. She was a neo-hippy, for heaven sakes. Raised by a love-bead-wearing grandmother, Meg, whose claim to fame was that she’d once made out with Bob Dylan in some coffeehouse in New York City. That was probably wishful thinking on her part. Meg had been into fantasy. Unlike Kylie. Yes, Kylie ate tofu and sprouts and had a Save The Wolves bumper sticker on her environmentally friendly car. But she was real. The kind of woman you could count on to tell you the truth.
Even when the truth hurt like hell.
That’s why this lie stung so much. The one thing he’d always been sure of when it came to Kylie was that he’d get the truth. Yet, here for four and a half months, she’d lied by omission.
“Then can we talk about those kidnappers?” Kylie asked.
Lucas didn’t veto that one. In fact, it was the only common ground he wanted with Kylie right now because it pertained to the case.
“Since the two men planned to take me to their boss to talk,” she said, “it’s my guess that this has something to do with the article I wrote about illegal surrogacy.”
That was his guess, too, especially since there’d been no ransom note. “What made you decide to write that article anyway?”
“Kismet.” She sighed. “Or maybe it was rotten luck. Right after I’d been inseminated…sorry. That wasn’t an intentional reference to the baby.”
Maybe not intentional, but it was a reference. Lucas couldn’t disregard the fact that Kylie had been inseminated. With his semen. A totally impersonal act. As was the entire surrogacy procedure. Yet, it’d resulted in something that seemed to be the ultimate in intimacy.
A pregnancy.
“Anyway, I met this pregnant woman at the clinic,” Kylie continued. “A girl, really. Her name is Tiffany Smith. She was in the ladies’ room, and we struck up a conversation. She was barely seventeen, Lucas. Definitely underage. She admitted that she was a homeless runaway.”
“And this Tiffany was there at the clinic because she was a surrogate?”
She nodded. “She was maybe five or six months pregnant and there to pick up her monthly stipend. She said that a man who worked for a lawyer first approached her about surrogacy when she still living on the street. He offered her money and a place to live if sh
e’d have a baby for a couple who desperately wanted a child. I called an old P.I. friend, told him about Tiffany, and he did some checking for me. He couldn’t find her. Coincidence? I doubt it. I think the person who hired her didn’t want anyone to find out she was underage so they hid her.”
Kylie turned in the seat, angling her body to face him. It wasn’t an especially unusual move.
Except the moonlight seemed to turn into a friggin’ spotlight.
He could clearly see her midsection, and because the bulky black leather coat had gaped open, he could see the outline of her stomach. Specifically, the bulge created by the pregnancy. There was a baby inside that bulge. His baby.
Lucas forced his attention back to the road and their conversation.
“You think the lawyer Tiffany Smith spoke about is Isaac Dupont?” he asked.
She made a sound of agreement. “Tiffany said the man, the go-between, dropped by a lawyer’s office over in Alamo Heights. He had her wait in the car, so she never saw the lawyer in question. Plus, she didn’t know the specific street but was able to give a description. I drove over there, and Dupont’s office is right there, just as she described it.”
It was a start for circumstantial evidence. “But you don’t have concrete proof that he was behind this illegal surrogacy?”
“I don’t have any positive proof, but I discovered that Dupont handled the adoption of one other medically unfit surrogate. When I called to ask him about it, he threatened me with a lawsuit and hung up on me. That in itself doesn’t mean he’s guilty, and that’s why I only alluded to Dupont and the clinic director in my article. I mentioned that a prominent Alamo Heights attorney had handled some questionable adoptions linked to equally questionable surrogates at a downtown clinic. Alluded,” she repeated. “Don’t you just love that word? It’s supposed to be clinical, as in a journalist can allude without putting the publication or herself at risk. Ha. It doesn’t feel very clinical or safe now.”
No. It didn’t. But then to Isaac Dupont, an insinuation was probably the same as an outright accusation. Leave it to Kylie to go after one of the most ruthless attorneys and businessmen in the state. Dupont had a take-no-prisoners reputation, and even though the man had been implicated in other activities, such as suspicious adoptions, none of the rumors or speculation had ever led to a real investigation.
Until now.
Lucas figured SAPD would want to question Kylie and check out the crime scene—especially after the kidnapping attempt. Of course, it would be a real coup if SAPD could also link those two would-be kidnappers to Dupont. Unfortunately, if Dupont was behind this, all those potential questions and attempts to link him to the attempted kidnapping would put Kylie in even more danger.
First thing in the morning, he’d make some calls and see if he could arrange protective custody for her. That would solve both of their problems. Because Lucas figured she didn’t want to stay with him any more than he wanted to be with her.
He made the last turn to his ranch, crossed the cattle guard and brought the truck to a stop in front of his house. He waited a moment, checking to make sure everything looked normal. It did. The only thing abnormal was the whirlwind of emotions he was experiencing.
Dreading the next few hours, Lucas exited the truck, but Kylie got out before he could make it to the passenger’s side. She even took a few steps, her socks lightly crunching on the frosted ground. Not only that, she wobbled, reaching out to grab something. But all she caught was air. He picked her up so that she wouldn’t fall.
“This really isn’t necessary,” she complained.
He ignored her and didn’t waste any time walking through the yard and stepping onto the porch. Kylie immediately slid out of his grip. But not before he felt the soft thump. It had come from her stomach and landed against his chest.
“It’s the baby,” she explained. She seemed embarrassed. Or something. She quickly pulled her coat closed.
Lucas unlocked the door, and they went inside. “The baby kicks a lot?” he asked.
She nodded.
Intrigued by that little flutter of movement, Lucas looked at her. It was only after he’d done it that he realized looking at her was a truly stupid idea.
Kylie looked up at him at the same moment that he looked down at her.
The air between them changed.
Not because either of them willed it. It just happened. Their scents sort of intermingled. And he went from being intrigued by a baby’s kick to being intrigued by the baby’s mother. That wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was that Lucas was almost positive that Kylie was feeling the same thing.
He felt that little flicker of heat. A really bad kind of heat. The kind that could only happen with physical attraction. And he prayed that little flicker didn’t turn into a full-blown flame.
“Well, crud,” she mumbled. Then, she groaned. “Would it help if I told you what’s going on here is a primal instinct that neither of us have any control over? Because this is your child, you feel this innate familiarity or something. And I feel this sicko kind of need to have you protect me. Probably something to do with continuation of the human race.”
“Well, that certainly takes the emotion out of it,” Lucas lied.
Kylie shrugged. “I didn’t figure we were ready to deal with the emotion. Besides, it’s just pregnancy hormones.”
“Pregnancy hormones,” he repeated. “They must be a lot like male hormones—brainless.”
And he quickly got his brain on something else.
“The guest room’s down there.” Lucas pointed to the last room at the end of the hall. “There should be a robe hanging in the closet if you need it. Oh, and if you’re hungry, you know where the fridge is.”
She ran her fingers over the silver-framed photo of Marissa that was on the table next to the front door. “I know where just about everything is in this house,” Kylie reminded him.
Yeah. She probably did. When Marissa was alive, Kylie was over at least a couple of times a month. Still, it seemed so off-kilter having her here.
Everything seemed off-kilter.
Especially him.
He suddenly wished he had livestock to tend, horses to feed. Anything that would give him a break from himself. But so that he’d have more time for the baby, he’d sold the livestock and all but one of his horses, which was literally out to pasture. One horse would hardly offer enough work to burn Kylie’s scent from his brain.
“Lucas?” she said. “I just want you to know that this baby really is yours. I have no plans to keep it or the money that you paid for the surrogacy. I won’t even be a part of your or your baby’s life. Once I deliver, I’ll give the child to you and then leave.”
And with that, she turned and headed for the guest room.
It was a powerful declaration. One that soothed him far more than it should have. Still, Lucas latched onto it and tried to picture his future. He remembered why he’d wanted to become a father in the first place. Because he loved children. And he because he wanted a son or daughter of his own. He couldn’t lose another child, and if that meant protecting a woman he loathed….
But he stopped there.
That loathed part was starting to fade. And it couldn’t. It just couldn’t.
He wasn’t ready for it to fade.
Too much was coming at him too fast. The kidnapping attempt. Learning the truth about Kylie’s pregnancy. The intense longing caused by such a simple thing as feeling the baby kick. His brainless reaction to Kylie.
Especially that last one.
Because his reaction to Kylie hadn’t had anything to do with protecting her. Hormones, indeed. What he was feeling was hot and primal, and it was already simmering to the point where it felt as if it might boil over.
Disgusted with himself and his own body, he followed Kylie down the hall so he could get a few things straight. Unfortunately, she’d already shut the door to the guest room; unfortunately, he threw open that door without thinking. She’
d taken off the coat that she’d borrowed from Finn and was about to pull back the covers. In those few brief seconds, before she could put her stoic mask back on, he saw the fatigue. The worry.
The vulnerability.
It was a challenge, but Lucas didn’t let that vulnerability get in the way of what he had to say. Because this had to be said. “It doesn’t matter that you’re carrying my baby. Nothing is ever going to happen between us,” he informed her. “Got that?”
She gave a crisp nod. “Got it.” She paused for a heartbeat, then snagged his gaze. “But are you trying to convince me? Or are you trying to convince yourself?”
Chapter Six
Kylie winced as she dried off from her shower. Spent adrenaline could do all sorts of nasty things to the body. Sore muscles. Aches. Fatigue. A general sense of feeling yucky. She’d been lucky in her pregnancy not to experience the “pleasures” of morning sickness, but she thought her luck might run out this morning.
She reluctantly put the scrubs and socks back on and topped the outfit with the thick terry cloth robe she’d borrowed from the closet. Obviously, it was Lucas’s robe but not one that he’d worn, because it still smelled new. Then, she didn’t imagine that Lucas was the bathrobe type. Or the pajama type, for that matter.
Which got her thinking things better left unthought.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Kylie,” she mumbled.
She glanced at herself in the dresser mirror and didn’t care for what she saw. The scrubs and the robe weren’t exactly her first choice of attire. Ditto for the lack of makeup or grooming supplies. Still, the clothes and bare face would have to do until she could get back to her place and change before going into the birthing center for the ultrasound. There were probably some of Marissa’s things still in the house—she doubted that Lucas would have gotten rid of all of them—but Kylie would have gone naked rather than wear Marissa’s clothes. She’d already rubbed enough proverbial salt in Lucas’s wounds without adding more.
It’d been a mistake to tell him that she was his surrogate. Kylie knew that now. Hindsight was such an annoyingly accurate thing. She should have just stuck with the plan: give birth, let the surrogacy agency deliver the baby to Lucas and then leave.
Secret Surrogate Page 5
