The footsteps behind her grew louder, and her pulse skyrocketed.
A hand clamped down on her shoulder.
Rhianna spun, raised the gun and pointed. “Don’t touch me!”
“And hello to…”
Rafe Sutton’s words died in his throat as he stared at her, wide-eyed. Not from fear of the gun she’d pointed at his heart, but at the sight of her swollen belly. “You’re pregnant?”
“Duh.” Rhianna put the gun away in her pocket. “Why the hell are you following me?”
“You’re having a baby?”
Rafe sounded so surprised Rhianna instinctively knew he couldn’t be her stalker. But she kept her mental defenses up—unsure why she felt as if she still needed to protect herself.
Damn him. He looked as handsome as ever, tall, dark haired and gray eyed like all the Suttons. But unlike his brothers, Rafe moved like a cat, with a natural grace and balance that most bronc busters would trade their best boots for.
He was whipcord lean, while she was as fat as a cow. His quicksilver eyes darkened with shadows. She didn’t like him seeing her like this. And then she remembered how he’d treated her. Not even one phone call in eight and half months. He hadn’t cared enough about her when she’d been thin to even pen a note. Even worse, he’d proved he had no feelings for her—so she had no time for him now.
She gestured with her hand, determined not to let a speck of pain or uncertainty or anger flicker in her eyes. “Go away.”
Passersby walked around them. No one seemed to notice her panic. Rafe ignored her request for him to leave. He stood mute on the sidewalk, counting on his fingers. Counting months? With her stomach so large, she looked ready to deliver and he could easily guess she was nine months pregnant.
His eyes turned to smoke. “The baby’s mine,” he drawled in a nonthreatening manner, as if he feared she would refuse to confirm his words.
She had to give him credit. They’d used a condom. He could have salvaged his conscience, done the easy thing and walked away. Just assumed the baby wasn’t his. Assumed the child was another man’s. Her heart softened toward him because he hadn’t even asked.
But Rafe Sutton didn’t take the easy way out. He might be shocked by her condition, he might be livid that she’d kept the baby, but he would know the truth.
She held his gaze. “I was going to tell you—”
“When?” He snapped the word like a whip, his voice turning to flint. He looked dark, dangerous and threateningly male.
“After he or she was born.”
“I’m supposed to believe you?”
At the distrust in his tone, her heart turned hard as granite. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you believe. But I would have told you. Not for your sake, but for our baby’s.”
“You need money?”
She wanted to slap him, but knew she’d only hurt her hand on those chiseled cheeks. Ignoring his insult, she kept her tone even, knowing the effort would cost her tears in her pillow tonight. “I think a child has the right to know who his father is.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He sounded sincere, but she was in no mood to forgive him. Not when her feet hurt. Not when she had to pee every twenty minutes. Not when her hormones were raging in fear for her life.
As if sensing her need to rest, he led her to a sidewalk bench, and she sat, grateful to take the weight off her swollen feet, but apprehensive about the coming conversation. All around them the world moved on. A squirrel stashed an acorn in its cheek. Traffic rushed by and mothers pushed baby strollers down the sidewalk.
Rhianna’s world had just turned upside down. She’d dreaded this moment for months. And now that it had arrived, she wanted to say the right thing, make Rafe understand the choices she’d made, so he could go on with his life and she could do the same.
She had the impression Rafe had already adjusted to the fact that he would be a daddy, and didn’t mind too much. But she couldn’t be sure. Maybe he was in shock. Rafe had always been hard to read, hiding his emotions behind an easygoing personality. The fact that he’d snapped at her revealed how shaken he really was.
Rafe looked at her stomach and then away. “Why didn’t you call as soon as you knew?” he asked, sounding puzzled and almost hurt.
Hurt? How could he be hurt? And why couldn’t he figure out the obvious for himself?
She blew a strand of hair out of her face in exasperation. “Why didn’t I tell you? Because I was hoping you would come back, despite our argument the next morning.”
Rhianna would never forget their parting words. He’d tried to leave without her knowing, but she’d awakened. She’d been angry that he’d tried to sneak out without saying goodbye. Hurt that he hadn’t realized just how special the night had been, and hurt that he was willing to throw it all away in exchange for his precious freedom. Hurt and upset and not quite awake, she’d sarcastically asked if he’d spent the entire night with her trying to soften her up so she’d sell him the foal. At her accusation, he’d been insulted and had stalked out. And she hadn’t heard from him since.
She’d known this confrontation was coming, and she’d hoped to put it off longer. But she’d tell him the truth—even if she knew he didn’t really want to hear it. “I was hoping you’d come back for me—not out of duty to our child.” He flinched at her direct reply, but she didn’t care if he felt guilty. “When I learned I was pregnant, I was shocked but happy. My first impulse was to call you and tell you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I was reluctant for several reasons.”
“What reasons could you have to hide your pregnancy from me? Don’t you think I had a right to know?” His voice remained soft, but the unmistakable edge of steel beneath told her that although he might listen to her side, he disagreed with her decision.
Of course she’d thought he had a right to know. But she’d been fearful on many levels. She still was. “I was afraid you might think I planned the pregnancy to force you into marriage.”
He looked genuinely puzzled. “We used protection. How could I blame you?”
She shrugged. “I was even more worried you’d try and take the baby away from me. My family can’t afford a court battle and high legal fees.”
“You think I’d separate a mother and her child?”
“Would you?” She searched his eyes, and he was the first to look away.
“I don’t know.”
At his reply, fear spiked down her spine. She’d always known Rafe sure as hell didn’t want to get married. But it wasn’t his way to be cruel. Nor did she believe he would deliberately try to make things harder for her than they already were.
The baby kicked, and absently she massaged her swollen belly.
Rafe’s eyes widened. “Are you having contractions?”
“Not yet. I’m not due for another two weeks. That was just a kick.”
Rafe watched her rub the spot, then glanced away as if embarrassed to have been caught looking.
Without thinking, Rhianna took his hand and placed it on her belly. “Feel.”
As the baby kicked, Rafe looked proud and very male, and Rhianna realized that she’d made a mistake. She didn’t want Rafe to think about being a father. She didn’t want him to think of this baby as his.
But it was too late. He had a smug gleam in his eyes, and his lips had softened. “She’s strong.”
“She?”
“You’re carrying high. She’s a girl.”
“That’s an old wives’ tale.”
“How do you think old wives’ tales get passed down from one generation to another? Because they’re based on fact.” Rafe kept Rhianna’s hand and turned to face her more directly. “I don’t take my responsibilities lightly. I know what it’s like to grow up with only one parent. My mother died when I was just a kid.” He said the words without feeling, and that lack of emotion revealed just how much pain the loss had caused him. “I don’t want that for my child—”
&n
bsp; “Your child?” Fear clutched her heart. The Suttons were a powerful, wealthy family. If it came down to a custody fight, her parents would do everything in their power to support her. But they were already two months behind on the foal’s feed bill, and her truck was in desperate need of repairs that they couldn’t afford.
“Our child. And you had no right to make that decision for her by yourself.”
“I’d hoped…”
“Hoped what?”
“That we could work things out somehow.” She twisted her hands in her lap, knowing that despite her anger toward Rafe for abandoning her the last eight and a half months, she had to rein in her temper and work this out like an adult. “I’ve never regretted the night we spent together. I made love to you with my eyes wide-open. I knew you didn’t want commitments.”
She couldn’t disguise the cutting pain in her voice, and realized she was being too honest with him. But that was her way. Rhianna was always honest about her feelings, and if that made him feel even more guilty, too damn bad.
She’d hoped for more from him now. Rhianna reminded herself she’d had months and months to think things through. Rafe had had less than an hour. She’d thrown so many surprises at him that he needed time to digest the news.
Yet she wanted him gone, the issue settled. Just looking at him caused anxiety and longings and stress that couldn’t be good for the baby.
She raised her chin and looked him square in the eyes. “I don’t need you, Rafe. Not your money. Not your name. I’ll manage. The baby will be well cared for.”
“That’s not the point.”
She scratched her neck. “Am I missing something? You didn’t want me. You don’t want our baby, so I’ll take care of it.” She shooed him away. “Go back to your ranch and your horses. We’ll be fine. I can support the baby myself. My mother is more than willing to provide child care while I work. Dad can give the baby a stable male influence in its life. Our baby will have plenty of love. You can walk away with a clear conscience.”
His face hardened to stone. “Sure. I’ll just walk away. Abandon a woman who’s pregnant with my child. A woman who thinks nothing of putting that baby’s life in danger. You weren’t going to tell me about the stalker?”
She bit her lip to keep back her gasp of dismay. Now that his protective instincts were on alert, she knew he’d never walk away. He’d feel obligated to help her, become accustomed to the idea of being a father, grow to love the child. And take it away from her. Her heart pounded, wild with worry. She mustn’t let her fears run away with her. She had to stay in control.
She fought to keep her tone calm. “How did you hear?”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “Daniel called me. He’s worried about your safety—even if you aren’t.”
“I’ve taken precautions.”
“Really?”
She patted the gun in her pocket. “We’ll be fine. Right now I’m more worried about finding a bathroom than avoiding the stalker.”
He took her arm and gently helped her to her feet. “That shows you have no judgment.”
She sighed. “You wouldn’t say that if the baby’s head was pressing against your bladder.”
RAFE WAS GOING TO BE a father. In two weeks. If Daniel McCloud hadn’t called, he might not have found out about the baby in time to help Rhianna.
As Rafe waited at a restaurant table for Rhianna to use the rest room, he made a few arrangements on his cell phone while he tried to wrap his mind around the idea of fatherhood. He should think about dirty diapers, the terrible twos, Friday and Saturday night activities curtailed. But Rafe had had the joy of baby-sitting his nephew Keith, and Cameron’s twins. He knew the warmth of little ones’ smiles, the sunshine of their laughter, the way an adult suddenly saw the world through the wondrous new eyes of a child.
Although he would make sure Rhianna had no money worries, could he walk away and allow her to raise his offspring? He had no doubt she would be an excellent mother. She had a good head on her shoulders. A good heart. A loving family.
She’d given him a way out. Why couldn’t he take it? Why did his conscience nag him like a stubborn mule? Perhaps it was merely her safety that concerned him, but he refused to use such an easy excuse. His feelings were way more complex than that.
No closer to resolving the issue by the time Rhianna returned, he watched her walk toward him. He didn’t see the glowing skin or shining happiness in her eyes that he remembered with his sister-in-law’s second pregnancy. Rhianna looked wary, guarded. Dusky circles under her eyes revealed she hadn’t been sleeping well. Yet to Rafe she looked beautiful. Her huge belly carried his child, and he couldn’t suppress the swell of pride that rose in his chest.
Rhianna took the seat opposite him. “Have you ordered yet?”
“Just coffee. Are you hungry?”
“I’m always hungry.” She picked up a menu with the first genuine grin he’d seen that morning. Her entire face lit up, and his heart clenched at the strain she’d been carrying alone.
She licked her lush bottom lip as she looked over the menu. He recalled those lips on his, on his throat, teasing his ear. What the hell was wrong with him? For God’s sake, the woman was eight and a half months pregnant and he was lusting after her like a man starved for sex—which wasn’t far from the truth. Rhianna had spoiled other women for him. And now he would pay the price. Luckily the tabletop hid his jeans, which had grown uncomfortably tight.
“Order whatever you like.”
She grinned again. “You shouldn’t have said that.” The waitress approached and Rhianna ordered. “I’d like the Belgian waffles with whipped cream and strawberries, two eggs over easy, two slices of bacon—crisp please—two English muffins lightly toasted. A large glass of orange juice and another glass of ice. Oh, and a glass of milk, too.”
“Coming right up.” The waitress turned away.
Rhianna called her back. “Miss.”
“Yes?”
“Aren’t you going to ask what he’d like?”
“Sorry, ma’am. I just assumed you’d ordered for both of you.”
Rhianna patted her stomach. “I did. For me and the baby.”
Rafe gave the waitress his order and then gazed at Rhianna. “Tell me about the stalker.”
Rhianna frowned. “You sure know how to spoil a meal. What did Dad tell you?”
“He said it would be better if you explained.”
“And you came because…”
Rafe hesitated. “I came because I was worried.”
If Rhianna was in danger, then his child was in danger.
Suttons protected their own.
Luckily, the waitress delivered her orange juice and English muffins, distracting Rhianna. She slathered butter and then jelly on the muffins, and Rafe marveled that she hadn’t gained fifty pounds. Her stomach might be enormous, but her face and arms remained thin as fence rails. Obviously the baby needed whatever she was feeding it.
She poured half the orange juice into the glass filled with ice. “You get more juice this way,” she explained. “Otherwise the ice takes up half the glass.”
Talking between sips of juice and delicate bites of the muffin, she told him her troubles. “It started with a car that followed me around town. And it’s happened several times. The car never comes close enough for me to see the license plates or the driver. When I spotted you in my rearview mirror, I drove to the police station. Why were you following me?”
“To see if anyone was following you. I never dreamed you’d think I was the stalker.” Rafe frowned, recalling the police station two blocks away. “Why’d you park so far away?”
She shrugged sheepishly. “I ran out of gas.”
“Go on.”
“I reported the stalker to the police. They thought I was delusional—due to my pregnancy. But I know what I saw.”
“The car never comes close to you?”
“Nope.”
“What make and color was it?”
“It
changed almost every time.”
Rafe scratched his head, wondering if the police were correct about her state of mind. But he knew Rhianna better than that. She wasn’t prone to panic. He’d once seen her calm a horse that had gone ballistic after a bee sting. She’d kept her head, kept the horse from injuring himself.
“Then what happened?”
“Six months ago someone let the air out of all four of my truck’s tires. I thought it might be a kid’s prank.”
The waitress delivered her bacon and eggs and his omelette. “I’m saving your waffles for dessert, hon. I wouldn’t want them to get cold.”
“Thanks.” Rhianna held out her empty glass. “More milk, please.”
Rafe wondered where she put it all, but even a bachelor like him knew better than to comment about a hungry, pregnant woman and her food. “When did you start carrying the gun?”
Rhianna paused between bites, her eyes haunted by the memory. “My bedroom’s in the back of the house. I have my own entrance. While I was at work, someone entered my room, and…they moved things.”
“Nothing was taken?”
She shook her head.
“You’re sure things were moved.”
“Very.” She licked a dab of butter off the tip of her thumb. A very delectable thumb that he’d like to explore with his own tongue.
Down, boy. He had to force his thoughts to stay on her story.
“My underwear was laid out on the bed, where it would have been if I’d been lying there, wearing it.”
At her reluctance to speak, he sensed there was more. “Go on.”
“A knife stuck out of my bloody pillow.”
“Bloody?”
“The police said he used chicken blood.”
A chill went down Rafe’s spine. This was the work of a sick mind. “I’m sorry. Did the police—”
“—check for prints?” She stopped eating for another moment. “They dusted the entire room. Didn’t find a thing. Said the perpetrator must have worn gloves. The lock wasn’t even forced.”
“So why don’t the police believe you?”
“They think I did it for attention. Who would want that kind of attention?”
Lullaby and Goodnight Page 3