He looked hard and masculine and dangerous, an outlaw of the Old West reincarnated on a hot June night on the Maryland shore.
Terror beat its heavy wings inside her breast as she slipped into the booth opposite him. She told herself to show nothing, say nothing. Let Slade do all the talking. It was her only plan.
One of the waitresses materialized beside the booth, with a mug and a pot of coffee.
"The gentleman said you'd want some."
Lara noticed the mug of black liquid in front of S1ade
She nodded. "Yes, that's fine."
"Anything else? Some pie? The cherry is home-"
"Nothing," Slade said, his eyes riveted to Lara's face.
The waitress left in a rush. Lara didn't blame her. Slade was like a tightly wound spring. One touch, and he'd snap.
She wrapped her hands around the mug, letting the heat of the liquid warm her suddenly frigid hands.
"Did you really think you could fool me, Lara?"
His voice was soft and menacing. It made her want to race for the door but she looked up from her coffee and met his cold look with a little smile. "Honestly, Slade, you'd think a woman had never turned you down before. Your ego must be awfully fragile for you to-"
He slammed his fist against the table. Lara's heart jumped along with the coffee.
"Don't play games with me, dammit." "I'm not. I'm simply saying-"
"There's nothing `simple' about you, baby." He leaned toward her, his eyes dark and burning in his face. "Michael is my son."
Lara laughed. She tried to, anyway, but the sound she made was a pathetic bleat.
"Michael? Your son? Where did you get such a crazy-" Her breath caught as Slade grabbed her wrist. "You're hurting me."
"You're lucky I'm not beating you senseless." His hand tightened on hers. "No games, I said. He's mine. I want to hear you admit it."
"I'm not going to tell you something that's not true."
She was good. Very good. Her gaze was unflinching, her chin determined. But he could feel the telltale race of her pulse under his fingers. He eased his grip but his eyes never left hers.
"Listen to me," he said softly. "We can do this whatever way you like. The truth would be the easy way."
"I told you the truth. Michael isn't-"
"Or we can do it the hard way. Lawyers. Judges. DNA tests." He let go of her wrist. He saw the marks of his fingers before she dropped her hand into her lap and he got a funny feeling, as if he wanted to grab her hand and press his lips to the bruises but then he thought, what the hell was wrong with him? Let her feel a little of the kind of pain he was feeling. "Your choice, baby."
"Slade, listen to me. Michael isn't yours. I don't know why you'd think-"
"I don't think, I know! My son was born nine months to the day-to the damned day, Lara-after we slept together."
Her face paled. "You can't possibly know when Michael was born!"
"September 19." His words fell like stones between them. "Can you count backward to that night we were together, or shall I do it for you? He was born at 7:05 in the evening. He weighed seven pounds five ounces." His mouth twisted. "And when they asked the name of his father, to enter on his birth certificate, you told them to write `Father Unknown."' His voice roughened. "`Father Unknown,' Lara. How could you do such a thing to my son?"
Lara clasped her hands together. Her fingers were colder than ice.
"For the last time, Michael isn't your son. I told you. My husband-"
"If you had a husband, and he was the boy's father, how come his name isn't on that certificate?"
Oh, God! She stared at Slade, feeling the cold spread through her blood. Think, she told herself, think!
"It was-it was because we were in the middle of getting divorced. And-and my husband..."
"You don't have a husband. You've never had a husband. When you want a man you just go someplace and pick one up. Why limit yourself to one guy if you can screw the brains out of as many as you like?"
The crude words made her blanch but she kept her head up. "I don't have to defend my morality to you."
"No. You don't. All I give a damn about is that your story's a lie. You were never married. That ring on your finger's strictly for show."
"You can't possibly know-"
"I know everything except why you wanted to let my son grow up thinking he had no father."
"For the last time, Slade. He's not-"
"Stop lying to me!" His eyes burned into hers. "When you knew you were carrying my child, why didn't you tell me? Did you think I'd tell you to take a hike? You knew my first name, my profession, where I lived... you could have found me if you really wanted to try but okay, I'll grant that maybe you didn't know how to go about it." He took a harsh breath. "Then Dobbs handed you that file, and it was all there. Everything you needed. My address. My phone number."
"What is this, Slade? Something you lifted out of a cheap soap opera, with lots of dramatic twists and turns, and me as the villain? It's fiction. Fiction, do you understand? None of it ever happened."
"And when I showed up," he said, ignoring her protests, "you did everything you could to make me disappear."
Lara stared at him. Every instinct told her to leap to her feet and run. But she knew it would be a mistake, that the only way to face down a predator was to show no weakness.
Carefully she took a napkin from the dispenser on the table. She blotted her lips, put the napkin on the table and slid across the banquette.
"This has been very interesting," she said calmly, and wondered if he could see the pulse beating in her throat. "I mean, listening to someone's fantasies is fascinating. But it's late, and I have to get home." She rose to her feet. "Good night, Slade. With any luck at all, we'll never have the misfortune of seeing each other again."
She turned and walked toward the door, every sense attuned to the scene she'd left behind. The hard-faced man, still sitting in the booth. The cold eyes, boring holes into her spine. She waited for the sound of him coming after her but there was only silence and, gradually, her steps quickened until she was running...
He caught her just as she reached the parking lot behind the diner. Her car keys were in her hand; she heard the pound of his feet and tried, desperately tried, to force the key into the door lock but his hands fell on her shoulders and he spun her toward him.
"Don't you want to ask me how I know so much, Sugar?" His teeth shone in a malice-filled smile. "The lies you spun about being married. The details of my son's birth."
"Let go of me! Let go, you bastard, or-"
"Michael's the bastard," Slade growled, "thanks to your deceit."
"What do you want?" The cry tore from her throat. She pulled loose from his grasp and fell back against the car.
"The truth, damn you! I have a son to claim."
She felt the blood roaring in her ears. "No. He's not "
Slade slapped a hand against her car on either side of her, trapping her with his body. His chest, rock-hard, brushed hers. She could almost feel the waves of hot anger coming off him.
"I've already arranged for DNA tests," he said softly. "Considerin' the circumstances surroundin' his conception, and the lies you've woven ever since, I don't think I'd have any trouble suin' for-and gettin'-custody."
He'd fallen into his Texas drawl. It softened the cruel words but it emphasized his determination. He'd do it, Lara thought frantically. He'd take the matter to court, if he had to, and what chance would she have then?
The world had been reduced to this moment. To the implacable will of Slade Baron, who didn't give a damn for anybody but himself.
"What happened, baby?" He bared his teeth in a terrifying parody of a smile. "Did you forget to take your pill? Did you chicken out about getting rid of your mistake, when you realized you'd gotten yourself knocked up?"
"My son isn't a mistake. He's the love of my life, you..you son of a bitch! I wanted him. You hear that? I wanted my baby. It's the only reason
I went with you that day, the only reason I let you touch me." She saw the shock in his eyes and it gave her the courage to continue. "I wanted to get pregnant, Slade. I'd thought about it for a long, long time, and I'd come up with a million ways to do it, but nothing seemed right." She drew a breath. "And then fate and a snowstorm dropped you in my path."
"Bull! You slept with me because you were as hot for me as I was for you."
It was true. She'd slept with him-made love with him because Slade was the first man, the only man, who'd made her forget everything she knew about right and wrong. Somewhere during that long, incredible night, she'd admitted the truth to herself, that she was in his bed because of what he made her feel, not for what he could give her.
But she would never admit that to him. Not now. Not ever. It would make her far too vulnerable-and he would never believe it.
"You came along when I was at the right point in my cycle." Her voice shook, but she forced the words out so that they were cool and clear. "You were healthy, you seemed intelligent. Your looks were acceptable. And I knew, from the way you talked, that you'd be able to-to perform.
She saw what the effect her words had. He stiffened, his face hardening until it seemed all shadows and angles. He lifted his hand, curled it around her throat and she knew he was close to forgetting everything he knew about civilized behavior.
"A stud?" he said softly. "Is that what I was?" "You're hurting me, Slade."
"Lara Stevens's private stud service." "I wanted a baby."
"You wanted." He laughed, and it sent a chill down her spine. "You wanted a baby."
"Yes. I know you may not think it but I'm a good moth-
She gasped and rose on her toes as his hand pressed harder, his thumb just in the hollow of her throat.
"And what I might have wanted didn't matter."
"It had nothing to do with you."
"Do you hear what you're saying, woman? You used me to get pregnant, gave birth to my kid and it had nothing to do with me?"
For the first time since that night, Lara felt a whisper of uncertainty. It had all seemed so right. So pragmatic. No, she thought, no, this wasn't a time to question what she'd done.
"It's not as if I wanted anything from you," she said quickly. "I still don't. Michael is mine. I carried him for nine months. I gave birth to him, I'm raising him-"
"Do you have any idea how I felt when I looked in that crib Friday night and saw my son? My son, Lara, only I was never supposed to know him, and he was never going to know me. He was going to grow up thinking his old man was some no good bastard that ran out on his mother, that left him to grow up without a father..."
"He has me," Lara said sharply. "He doesn't need a father."
"I never figured on being a father. I'd seen my family's mistakes in the marriage wars-"
"This has nothing to do with marriage. A woman doesn't have to have a husband to be a good mother."
"-I'd seen them, Lara. And I told myself, no way would I make the same mess of my life." He drew a shuddering breath. "But I thought about it sometimes, about what it might be like, to have a family. And I promised myself that if I ever did make a dumb move, get married, have kids, I'd be a good father, one my kid could love instead of-"
Bright lights lit the parking lot. Slade swung around, shading his eyes from the glare. A police car pulled up alongside them.
"Hell," he muttered, and jammed his hands into his pockets.
"Everything okay here?" An officer stepped from the car, flashlight in hand, and shone the light on Lara. "Lady? You okay?"
She swallowed dryly. "Yes. Yes, thank you, I'm fine."
"We got a call from the diner. Somebody said you didn't look too happy when you left and that this guy went after you." He swung the light and Slade blinked under its merciless glare. "You got some ID, pal?"
Slade took out his wallet and handed it over. "There's no problem, Officer. The lady and I, ah, we had a difference of opinion."
"She your wife?"
"No. She's my fiancée. We, ah, we were discussing the plans for our wedding." The policeman gave him back his wallet and Slade flashed a man-to-man grin as he pocketed it. "You know how it is. She wants all the trimmings and I just want to stand up in front of a J.P."
"Is that right, ma'am?"
Lara looked at Slade. He was smiling at her but she could see the warning in his eyes.
"Yes. It was-it was something like that."
The officer chuckled as he got back into his cruiser. "Take my advice, pal, and keep at it. Nobody in his right mind needs to go through the hoopla of a formal wedding."
"Absolutely," Slade said, and smiled--but his smile faded when he turned to Lara again as the patrol car's taillights winked, then faded into the night. "Picking me for your stud service was a bad idea."
"Look." She exhaled sharply and tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "Maybe I-maybe I shouldn't have made such a-a unilateral decision..."
Color rose in her face at his bark of harsh laughter.
"Do the words `right' and `wrong' have any meaning in your world, Sugar?"
"I wanted a child, Slade. And I promise you, I'll raise him with love. You don't have to worry about that. About anything. I told you, I don't want anything from you."
"You already have it. My donation to your own private sperm bank." A muscle knotted in his jaw. "That was all you wanted from me that day. Isn't that what you said?"
"I-yes. Yes, that's right."
He moved toward her. She took a step back but with the car behind her, there was no place to go.
"Why me?" She flinched as he reached out and ran the back of his hand along her cheek but though his voice was rough, his touch was gentle. "You wanted a man in your bed, you could have had your choice. How come I was the lucky sap?"
"I told you." His hand was in her hair, his fingers warm against her scalp. His breath was warm, too, almost a caress against her skin. "You were-you had the right attributes. And you were there at the right time."
He looked into her eyes. "You trembled in my arms."
"I-I don't see what this has to do with anything. Slade, please-"
"That's what you said to me when I kissed you, the first time. Please, you said, Slade, please..."
He lowered his head, slowly, slowly, even as his brain asked him what in hell he was doing. He didn't want her. She'd used him. Lied to him. She'd have gone on lying, she'd have kept him from the truth, if it hadn't been for a quirk of fate.
He paused, a whisper from her lips. Her eyes were wide and fixed on his. His thumb lay in the hollow of her throat again and he could feel the race of her heart.
"Tell me the truth," he said huskily. "That you wanted me, not just a substitute for a test tube."
He gathered her close. She was rigid but a little sound escaped her, a soft moan that filled him with triumph. He slid his hands down the length of her back, cupped her bottom and lifted her into the V of his legs, into the hardness of his arousal.
She moaned again, lifted her hands to push him away.
Instead she curled her fingers into his shirt, teetered on the brink of lunacy...
With a cry, she tore herself from his arms.
"All right:" She shuddered with the enormity of the admission. "It's true. Michael is your son."
Slade bowed his head. For one heart-stopping instant, she almost reached out to touch him but she caught herself before she could do anything so foolish.
"And-I admit, I might have made a couple of poor decisions."
He looked up, his expression unreadable, his eyes cool and watchful.
"I'll see to it the birth certificate is changed." She waited for him to speak but he just went on looking at her. The silence grew unnerving. "And-and I'll tell him about you, when he's old enough to understand."
Still, Slade said nothing.
"Dammit," she said, "what more do you want?"
"You don't pay attention, Sugar, or you wouldn't need t
o ask. I already told you. I intend to be a father to my boy.
A good father."
Lara ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. Her world was falling apart, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
"All right," she said unsteadily. "We'll arrange for-for visiting privileges. You can come to see him, I don't know, one Saturday a month-"
"Wow."
The softly spoken word oozed sarcasm. Her head came up; she balled her hands into fists. "You think it's going to be easy, giving him up to you for a Saturday?"
"I don't much care what it is, for you." He spoke calmly, which amazed him, because his heart was beating like a drum. "It's Michael who counts. I don't want our son to spend Saturdays with a man who'd basically be a stranger."
Our son. An ominous portent clung to the words but, in her desperation, Lara ignored it.
"What would you suggest, then?" Her heart skipped a beat. "I'm not going to let you take him away from me, Slade. I swear, if you try-"
"Marriage."
She stared up at him, into those unreadable eyes.
"What?"
"We're going to be married. Tomorrow." His words were clipped. She thought, crazily, that he might have been arranging a dental appointment. "At noon."
She waited for him to laugh. When he didn't, she gave one bark of hysterical laughter for the both of them.
"You're crazy."
He grabbed her arm as she turned away and spun her toward him.
"It's the only solution," he said coldly. "My son is going to have two parents. A father, and a mother."
"No! I'd never agree to-"
"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you." His hand tightened on her. "And you'll be a good mother to him and a faithful wife to me or so help me, I'll take him from you." His eyes burned into hers. "If it comes to that, if he's only going to have one of us, it's going to be me. I can do it, Sugar. Don't make the mistake of thinking I can't."
Sandra Marton - Slade Baron’s Bride Page 10