plan had succeeded—except for the fact that she might have been wrong. Judging from that emotion-filled groan, Houston could be innocent. But Gabrielle wasn’t ready to buy that just yet. He was the only one with a motive for making this pregnancy happen. Her only motive was that she’d desperately wanted a child and hadn’t been able to have one of her own.
“Are you all right? “ the sheriff asked him.
She couldn’t hear what Houston mumbled, but if it was “yes,” then it was a lie. Either he’d just learned for the first time that he was a father, or else he’d learned that his devious plan had been uncovered.
Gabrielle got moving again with her escape, because either scenario spelled trouble for her.
Houston glanced over his shoulder, and Gabrielle ducked down behind the stall door so he wouldn’t see her. He didn’t look around the stables for her. Instead, he turned his attention back to the sheriff.
“I need some time to think about this,” Houston said, suddenly sounding more alert. “Don’t say anything to my dad, just yet. But could you tell my foreman, Dale, what you told me, and let him know I’ll be in the stables for a while? ”
Gabrielle waited, with her pulse thick and throbbing. Was Houston really going to send the sheriff away? Or was this some kind of trick?
She cursed the fog in her head. If her thoughts were clearer, she might be able to figure out all of this, but she hadn’t slept more than three hours straight in the past six weeks. Before that, there had been the delivery, immediately followed by the hostage situation. She was exhausted, spent and beyond punchy. Still, this might finally all come to a head. She might finally learn what was going on. If Houston would finally come clean.
Of course, that was a big if.
Houston waited until the sheriff walked away before he entered the stables. He shut the doors. And Gabrielle cursed again. Had she made yet another mistake by staying so she could get his side of the story? Or rather his side of the lie?
“Is it true?” Houston asked.
Gabrielle eased up so she could see him from over the top of the stall—and was stunned by the raw feelings she saw there in his eyes. If Houston had indeed put all of this together, then he was a good actor.
She walked out of the hay-strewn stall so she could face him. But Gabrielle didn’t get close. She didn’t want him trying to kill her to cover up his plan. However, he didn’t seem a man with murder on his mind.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.
Even though he looked like an average cowboy, with his jeans, worn black leather vest and denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he also wore his privileged bloodline. It was there. In his glacier-blue eyes, and saddle-brown hair that was a little too long and messy for the boardroom, but perfect for a man who worked with both his hands and his mind.
Houston Sadler was a wealthy man. A billionaire. And he was accustomed to getting exactly what he wanted.
“Is it true?” he repeated.
Gabrielle hiked up her chin and forced herself to answer. “I did get pregnant through in vitro, but I didn’t steal an embryo. I didn’t steal anything.”
“Except a baby from the nursery at the San Antonio Maternity Hospital,” he quickly pointed out.
“My baby,” she insisted.
In the same moment, Houston said, “I want to see him. I want to see my son.”
Oh, God. This was exactly what she feared most. “Lucas is not your son. I gave birth to him.”
He rammed his thumb against his chest. “With my late wife’s embryo that you stole.” He groaned again and shook his head. “I have a son.”
She wasn’t totally immune to that painful reaction. Gabrielle almost went closer. Almost. But she forced herself to stop and think, even though her head felt foggier than it had when she’d started all of this.
“Because I’m infertile, I asked for a donor embryo from the Cryogen Clinic in San Antonio,” Gabrielle explained. “I certainly never intended to have your child. But you, on the other hand, might have wanted exactly that. Did you set all of this up so I’d be your surrogate?”
He just stared at her for several long moments. “How the hell could you think that?”
“Well, it’s one of the few theories that makes sense. Maybe, like me, you desperately wanted a baby, and you decided this was the way to go about it. You might have figured that, once I gave birth, you could step in and challenge me for custody. And then you’d have the child you always wanted with your wife.”
Houston cursed, and it seemed to take him a moment to rein in his own fit of temper. “First of all, I’d forgotten about the embryos. I thought Lizzy and I had used them all on our last try at in vitro. And if I’d wanted a surrogate, I would have hired one—the best money could buy. I wouldn’t have tricked you into it.”
Gabrielle let that sink in. Slowly. And she repeated it to herself. It sounded … reasonable but it didn’t explain everything.
“Someone’s been following me since the hostage incident,” she admitted. “I keep losing him, but then he pops up again. The last time, three days ago, the person used a dark green Range Rover.”
Houston threw up his hands. “Maybe the gunmen from the hospital had an accomplice after all. Then again, it could be your imagination running wild. You seem to have a tendency to do that.” He pointed his index finger at her. “Look, I don’t care. Right now, I only want you to take me to my son.”
“He’s not yours!” she yelled. “Lucas is mine!”
The horse whinnied and pranced around, moving even farther toward the back of the stables.
Gabrielle immediately hated the outburst. She didn’t want the sheriff and the foreman to hear her and come in after her. She didn’t want to go to jail, because heaven knows how long it would take all of this to be settled. And in the meantime, the courts would no doubt give temporary and then permanent custody to Houston.
He had both biology and money on his side. Even though she hadn’t stolen the embryo or manipulated the situation in any way, she might not be able to prove her innocence.
“Where is he?” Houston demanded.
“Someplace safe.”
That was all she intended to tell him. She might not be able to keep Lucas from him forever, but she would try.
“Three days ago, I saw the license plates of the person who followed me,” she explained. “The person driving that dark green Range Rover. And I took a picture of the plates with the camera on my cell phone. I had a friend run them through the database, and I learned the vehicle belongs to you.”
“Me?” he challenged.
“You. And that’s why I believe you’re behind this. Why else would you follow me? The cops didn’t have the latest DNA results until yesterday.” That’s when they’d called and left her a message on her work cell
