Her Secret, His Love-Child

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Her Secret, His Love-Child Page 3

by Tina Duncan


  Alex planted a hand against the wall on either side of her head, effectively trapping her.

  His heat and his smell were all around her.

  Anxiety and awareness coursed through her, making her tremble.

  ‘That’s the second time you’ve run out on me. And the last. Understand?’ Alex said in a dangerously soft voice, his breath wafting across her face.

  ‘I didn’t run out on you,’ she said, angling her chin into the air. ‘I walked.’

  He growled something completely incomprehensible under his breath. ‘Don’t split hairs. Why did you leave?’

  She snatched in a breath. ‘I left because I didn’t like what you were saying.’

  ‘So why didn’t you just tell me that?’

  ‘I did. I said I wasn’t going to sign your stupid document. And I’m not,’ she added for good measure. ‘I haven’t changed my mind.’

  He bared his teeth in the parody of a smile. ‘You will if you know what’s good for you.’

  The threat stirred her anger to life. She welcomed the emotion because it banished her awareness of him.

  ‘No, I won’t.’ She dug the point of her index finger into the centre of his chest. ‘Because Sam is your daughter.’

  He froze, face twisting. ‘Stop saying that. It’s not true!’

  Her anger evaporated as if it had never existed. Her heart stilled then took off at a gallop. A shiver made its way down and then up her spine, setting her teeth on edge.

  For the first time, she appreciated just how much Alex didn’t want it to be true.

  She frowned. Surely this was more than just the normal reaction of a playboy who didn’t want to be tied down? She could practically feel the anxiety seeping out of his pores into the air surrounding them.

  Something else was going on here, although she didn’t have a clue what it was.

  ‘Yes, Alex. It is.’

  ‘It’s not. It can’t be.’ Alex couldn’t hide the desperation in his voice. It was clear he was in some form of denial, which meant he was in for a rude awakening.

  ‘I’m afraid it is.’ She paused for a moment before playing the ace she’d hoped wouldn’t be required. ‘And I can prove it.’

  He raised a dark eyebrow. ‘And just how do you plan on doing that?’

  ‘A DNA test will prove Sam’s paternity.’

  Alex was such a logical, facts-and-figures kind of guy. He would have no choice but to believe scientific evidence.

  The suggestion had clearly shocked Alex. He was staring at her as if she’d just grown three heads.

  While she waited for him to say something, Katrina couldn’t stop her eyes from running over him.

  There wasn’t a man alive who looked as good in a suit as Alex did. All of his clothes were handmade and fitted him like a glove. He was tall and lean, with broad shoulders, a muscled chest and long, powerful legs. The dark fabric accentuated his black hair and piercing blue eyes.

  He looked elegant and sophisticated and very, very male.

  Heat stirred low in her pelvis. She was nowhere near as immune to him as she liked to think she was. He’d been right when he said her eyes had eaten him up as soon as she’d burst into the boardroom. They were eating him up again now. She couldn’t seem to help herself.

  And she didn’t understand why.

  The way he’d treated her should have killed all of the feelings she had for him. And it had—at least on an emotional level. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Alex she didn’t love him any more.

  Because she didn’t. If anything, the reverse was true.

  But, on a physical level, it was a different matter entirely.

  Physically, she was as attracted to him as the day they’d first met.

  She’d pushed open the boardroom door, taken one look at Alex and now the burn was back.

  Just like that.

  ‘Are you serious about this?’ Alex asked, interrupting her thoughts.

  Katrina dragged her eyes back to his face, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way she’d been staring at him. ‘Frankly, I’d rather not have to go through the humiliation of everyone knowing that you think I sleep around. But if it’s the only way you’ll accept the truth then I’m more than willing to go through with it.’

  ‘In that case, I’ll arrange the test.’ His expression gave nothing away. If he had doubts, he wasn’t showing them. He glanced at his watch. ‘There’s no time like the present. The sooner we get this farce over with, the better.’

  Alex didn’t say a word as the doctor swabbed the inside of the baby’s cheek then put the spatula in a thin glass testtube and marked the outside with a bar-coded sticker.

  ‘How soon can we have the results?’ he demanded as Dr Kershew extracted a fresh applicator.

  ‘It will take forty-eight hours,’ Doctor Kershew replied. ‘Open up.’

  Alex opened his mouth. The doctor repeated the process on the inside of his mouth.

  ‘Can’t you get it done any faster?’ Alex asked with a frown as soon as the doctor was finished.

  Doctor Kershew placed the two samples side by side on his cluttered desk then looked back and forth between them. He was obviously aware of the tension that had been simmering between them since they’d entered the surgery ten minutes ago. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘You’ll call me as soon as you know?’ Alex pressed.

  Doctor Kershew shook his head. ‘They don’t call with the results. They send a written report. Would you like it sent to your home or office?’

  ‘My home. The less people who know about this, the better,’ he stated grimly, with a sharp glance in Katrina’s direction.

  Katrina’s response was to jut her chin into the air, and her cat-like green eyes glinted with challenge again.

  ‘And you, Ms Ashby? Where would you like your copy sent?’

  She turned to the doctor. ‘I don’t need it.’ She flung Alex a look that he was sure could strip paint. ‘I already know what the results will be. I don’t need some silly test to tell me something I already know.’

  Alex stared at her, his scalp contracting. He’d been discomfited when she’d suggested the DNA testing. Hell, he’d been more than uncomfortable. He’d felt as though she’d smacked him around the head with a plank of wood.

  If she’d had any doubts about the child’s parentage, then surely she’d have avoided the suggestion like the plague?

  Now she was acting supremely confident of the results, so much so that the back of his neck began to prickle and a restless sensation attacked the base of his spine.

  What if she was right?

  What if the child was his?

  Alex let his eyes stray to the baby’s cot, which so far he’d avoided looking at.

  The baby had fallen into a peaceful sleep, her tiny fist pressed against her flushed cheek, her bow-like mouth softly parted, her little chest rising and falling with each breath.

  He’d decided many years ago never to get married or have children. With his family history, he’d considered it his only option.

  It was a decision he’d never regretted.

  He’d never even thought about what it would be like to have a child. What was the point when he’d already decided not to?

  Now he had to consider it.

  He stared at the sleeping infant. She was cute, he had to admit that. But then so was a newborn kitten. But if she was his…

  The breath caught in the back of his throat.

  If she was his then it was a different matter entirely.

  Alex sucked in a deep breath and dragged his gaze away from the cot. His eyes locked with Katrina’s. She’d noticed him watching the child. She had a very assessing look on her face, as if she was trying to figure out what he was thinking.

  She’d be surprised if she could look inside his head, Alex acknowledged wryly, because his thoughts had just jumped to another aspect of their situation.

  If the child was his, then it meant Katrina hadn’t betrayed him.
>
  There had been no other man.

  No other lover.

  And no intention to scam him.

  It also meant that what they’d shared was real.

  He wasn’t quite sure why that was so important to him but it was.

  ‘It’s standard procedure,’ the doctor said gently. ‘Both parents receive a copy.’

  Katrina looked back at the doctor and shrugged. ‘I don’t care where you send it.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Alex rattled off the address.

  The doctor made a note on the file before shutting it closed. ‘There, all done. Now, if that’s all, I’d better see to my next patient. I’m behind schedule.’

  ‘Thank you for squeezing us in,’ Alex said, rising to his feet. ‘I appreciate it.’

  ‘You said it was important. I always have time for you and your family.’ He leaned confidingly towards Katrina. ‘I delivered Alex and his brother, you know. I have a soft spot for them.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ she said faintly.

  The doctor looked back at Alex. ‘How is Michael doing?’

  Tension gripped him. ‘The same,’ he bit out. He didn’t want to talk about his brother in front of Katrina.

  The doctor shook his head sadly. ‘Well, if there’s anything I can do, all you have to do is call.’

  ‘I know. But the first step is up to Michael.’

  Katrina was paying close attention to the conversation. Alex had made a point of keeping his family and Katrina apart, as he did with all of his lovers. He’d wanted to avoid building any expectation of a permanent relationship.

  But more and more that looked like it had been a waste of time where Katrina was concerned.

  Because, if the baby did turn out to be his, then the future he’d envisaged would be well and truly blown to smithereens.

  Alex was trying and failing to process an inbox full of emails when Royce called at eight that night. Once again, the other man got straight to the point. ‘I don’t have a lot to report. One of my people has been watching the apartment since just before you arrived at two-oh-three.’

  Alex was impressed they’d moved so quickly. ‘And…?’

  ‘And nothing. Katrina came out with a pram around three-thirty and walked to the local park and back. Other than that she hasn’t been out. A number of people have come and gone from the apartment building, but it’s been difficult to ascertain whether any of them have visited her. There’s been no sign of the guy who owns the apartment.’

  Alex stiffened. ‘What guy?’

  ‘Let me see.’ Alex heard the tapping of computer keys. ‘The apartment is owned by a guy called Peter Strauss.’

  Something shifted in his chest. ‘She’s living with a man?’

  ‘That’s not clear. We’re still looking into it. Katrina’s name doesn’t appear on any official lease or documentation. At least none that we’ve found so far. She’s either living with the guy or she has a private arrangement with him.’

  ‘I see,’ Alex said, not seeing at all, and wishing to hell that he did. ‘What else do you know about the guy?’

  ‘Nothing. We’re doing a background check now. I should have an answer for you tomorrow or the day after.’

  ‘Make it tomorrow. I want to know everything. When they met. What their relationship is. Everything.’

  Alex wasn’t sure why he was so interested.

  He tried to tell himself it was because the Strauss chap could be the baby’s father, but he knew he was just fooling himself.

  He was a great believer in the saying ‘actions speak louder than words’ and Katrina’s behaviour suggested she was telling the truth.

  The scales were now firmly tipped in favour of him being the child’s father.

  So why should he care who this guy was?

  Frankly he shouldn’t give a flying fig, but he did.

  Alex sat stiffly in his chair, body so tense he expected his joints to creak when he moved. A restless sensation attacked the bottom of his spine.

  He wanted to storm over to the apartment and demand some answers.

  Instead, he cursed under his breath and headed for his bedroom. He pulled on a pair of black running shorts, a white singlet top and a pair of trainers. Leaving the apartment by his private elevator, he headed for the nearby park.

  He jogged for an hour most days.

  Tonight, he didn’t jog.

  Tonight, he pounded the pavement as if his very life depended on it.

  Sweat dripped from his body.

  His lungs burned and his heart raced.

  On his twelfth lap, Alex decided to call it quits. He could run until he cut a groove in the cement and it still wouldn’t ease his frustration.

  He ground to a sudden halt, gasped in a breath and swore viciously.

  Jogging at a less frantic pace, he headed back to his apartment.

  Then, sweaty, tired and so wired he expected to emit sparks at any moment, he snatched up his car keys.

  CHAPTER THREE

  KATRINA was cleaning the kitchen sink—gleaming stainless-steel was almost as satisfying as glowing white ceramic—when someone pounded on the door as if they were trying to smash it down.

  Worried the racket might wake Samantha, she removed her rubber gloves and hurried to the door.

  ‘Who is it?’ she called softly, trying to keep her voice down.

  ‘It’s Alex. Open up!’

  ‘Alex?’ she asked in surprise, blonde eyebrows shooting towards her hairline.

  What was Alex doing here?

  ‘Yes. Alex. Open the door!’

  Startled by his forceful order, Katrina slid the door chain along its protective channel and then turned her attention to the lock. In her nervous haste, and hindered by the oversized rubber gloves, her fingers fumbled with the latch and it took her two attempts to get the door open.

  ‘What do you want, Alex?’ she asked.

  Although she hadn’t invited him in, Alex swept past her into the apartment.

  As he did, she noticed what he was wearing.

  Or, rather, what he wasn’t wearing.

  All he had on was running gear. Skimpy running-gear that left very little to the imagination.

  A white singlet top bared the steely strength of his broad, bronzed shoulders, and short shorts left the hair-roughened length of his powerful legs free for her hungry gaze to feast upon.

  In an instant, her mouth was parchment dry and her heart was beating ninety-to-the-dozen. ‘Alex?’ she prompted when he failed to answer her.

  Suddenly she realised that while she’d been staring at Alex he’d been staring just as hard at her.

  In her eagerness to open the door before Samantha was disturbed, Katrina had forgotten she was wearing her oldest tracksuit. It was tatty and worn, and the black was no longer sharp but faded. She’d taken the jacket off a while ago; scrubbing was hot work. Beneath it she was wearing a black stretchy top with spaghetti-thin straps.

  If her outfit wasn’t bad enough, her hair had fallen out of the clip she’d used to fasten it to the top of her head. It was now half up and half down, with several strands sticking to her cheeks. To top everything else off, she wasn’t wearing a touch of make-up—not even mascara.

  Katrina cringed inside at her dowdy appearance and then immediately reprimanded herself.

  Who cared what Alex thought?

  It wasn’t as though he meant anything to her any more.

  ‘What are you doing here, Alex?’

  Alex stared at her with hooded eyes, then said abruptly, ‘I thought you lived alone.’

  Katrina blinked at the comment, which had come out of left field. ‘I do. Apart from Sam, of course,’ she said, trying to ignore how primal and potently make Alex looked.

  ‘Really?’ He raised a brow. ‘What about Peter Strauss?’

  Katrina blinked again. How did he know about Peter? And why was he asked about him?

  ‘Peter is my landlord,’ she said automatically.

  �
��You don’t have a lease.’

  It was a statement not a question, and it was fired at her as fast as a bullet from a gun.

  An uneasy feeling settled at the base of her spine. ‘How do you know that?’

  He waved a hand. ‘Just answer the question.’

  ‘Have you had me investigated?’ she asked, still preoccupied with how he’d come across the information.

  ‘Of course.’

  Shock ratcheted up her spine, vertebra by vertebra. ‘How dare you?’

  ‘Oh, I dare a lot of things. Why should you care, anyway?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Unless you’ve got something to hide?’

  ‘I’ve got nothing to hide.’

  ‘Then why won’t you answer the question?’

  Katrina folded her arms. ‘Because it’s none of your business, that’s why! As far as I’m concerned, you have no right to question me—unless it relates to Sam.’

  His eyes flashed with an emotion she couldn’t quite define. Suddenly, he was right there in front of her, hand cupping her throat. ‘Answer the question!’

  The smell of heated male flesh mixed with sweat folded around her like an invisible cloak. As she inhaled, it was as if she were absorbing little particles of Alex that circulated in her bloodstream like a potent drug.

  Swallowing against the warmth of his palm, she managed to say huskily, ‘What’s this all about, Alex?’

  What’s this all about?

  That was a good question, Alex decided.

  It was just a shame he didn’t have an answer.

  At least not one he wanted to share.

  He didn’t want to admit—even to himself—that jealousy had sent him rushing over here like a man possessed. But there was no other explanation.

  And the little green monster was having a field day, eating away at him like acid burning through metal.

  Katrina looked unbelievably sexy in an entirely natural way. She might not be wearing any make-up, and her outfit was one that most of his previous lovers would have consigned to the rubbish bin, but all Alex could see was the shapely contours of her body, skin that was glowing with good health and hair that was shining with vitality.

 

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