it wasn’t natural.
Now she was going to have to tell her father she wasn’t even carrying B.J.’s child! She was carrying a stranger’s child, and this stranger wanted to take her child away from her—or at the very least, share custody with her.
Tears she’d been holding at bay for more than twenty-four hours sprang to the surface. There was no way she could hide them. Yet she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself in front of all these people.
Pushing away from the table so fast her chair tipped over, she fled the conference room. She heard Rafe’s voice but didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop…not until she’d rushed through the waiting room, pushed open the door and fled around the corner of the building to the parking lot. There under the shade of a live oak, she let the tears freely fall while she covered her face with her hands, wishing against all odds that this was a nightmare and she’d soon awaken.
When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she took a breath, choked back a sob and looked up, expecting to see Rafe. But it wasn’t Rafe who stood there. It was Blake Winston, the man who wanted her baby for his own, the man who’d replaced B.J. in her dreams last night.
She turned away from him, trying to hide her tears, trying to hide feelings she didn’t understand.
Chapter Two
Blake hadn’t chased after a woman since he was eighteen. That escapade had ended in disaster with a sense of betrayal that yawned so wide he hadn’t been interested in a serious relationship since. Yet when Jenna Winton had run out of that conference room, he’d known he was the reason. What he’d seen on her face was genuine distress.
Now, for the first time since his meeting with the director of the clinic yesterday, he tried to put himself in her shoes. She’d loved her husband—so much so that she wanted to carry his child even when he was gone. The news that she wasn’t carrying B.J. Winton’s child must have been devastating. Another woman might have wanted nothing to do with the baby. That’s fully what Blake had expected. Compensating Jenna Winton for her pregnancy and her services as a surrogate had seemed a reasonable and perfect solution to him.
Yet apparently she’d formed a bond with this child already and didn’t want to let go. If she was that kind of woman, she would make a wonderful mother.
“Jenna,” he murmured, using her given name as if it was his right. She was still turned away from him, and he realized she didn’t want him to see her tears.
Women used tears to manipulate. They used tears to bring a man to his knees, didn’t they?
Watching the sunlight play on the blond strands in Jenna’s light brown hair, seeing the tension in her small shoulders as she tried to keep her turmoil from him, compassion he hadn’t felt in a very long time stirred in his heart along with something else…something else he didn’t want to identify or examine.
Clasping her shoulder, he nudged her around. Still she kept her head bent, and he couldn’t keep from lifting her chin so she’d meet his gaze.
Her skin was soft, a creamy ivory under his tanned thumb. The few freckles on her nose attested to the fact that she wasn’t wearing makeup. Her lips were a bit pinker than natural and he suspected she’d applied lipstick. Not that sticky, shiny concoction that made women’s lips look like they were painted, but a creamy soft pink that suited her well. It was her dark brown eyes that made his chest tighten. They were swimming with tears and anguish, testifying to the fact that this wasn’t a performance for his benefit.
“I’m sorry if I upset you,” he said gently, realizing he meant it.
When she tried to blink away her tears, they rolled down her cheeks and she swiped at them self-consciously. “After B.J. died, I felt lost. Then I became pregnant and life seemed to have meaning again. Now you’re threatening to take away my baby and—”
The urge to take this woman into his arms was so strong Blake had to fight it with every ounce of his self-control. She had to look up a good six inches to meet his gaze, and although she was pregnant, she still looked slender and fragile. Yet from the way she’d stood up to him already, he suspected she wasn’t fragile at all.
“I do want this child, and I imagined I’d go about it just as I have everything else over the past twenty years,” he found himself explaining. “I’ve always set goals and reached for them, not letting anything alter my course.”
A tear she hadn’t managed to wipe away stole down her cheek. Before he thought better of it, he caught it and let his finger glide over her skin. This time her eyes didn’t waver from his, and he found himself aroused by simply touching her. The space around them seemed to be charged with a current that could shake the leaves from the trees.
“I can see now,” he went on hoarsely, “having a baby is quite different from opening a branch of my firm in another city, finding the best people to work with me, or topping last year’s revenue.”
The hum of cars on the street in front of the clinic was a backdrop to the most important conversation of his life.
Jenna’s gaze was troubled as she asked, “How can we settle this if we both want the same thing and neither of us will let go? You just learned about this child yesterday. I’ve been nourishing this baby and talking to it and playing music for it for the past six months. This is my child, Mr. Winston.”
“Blake,” he corrected her. “It’s Blake,” he said again. “Do you mind if I call you Jenna? Formality will only get in the way of whatever decisions we have to make.”
“That’s just it, Mr….” She stopped herself. “Blake. What decisions can we make if we both want to be parents?”
“I don’t know. I do know I think you and I have to talk about this without our lawyers. We need to spend some time together and discuss what all of this means to our lives.”
“I wouldn’t advise that, Jenna,” Rafe said from behind Blake’s shoulder. “Mr. Winston has had a lot more practice than you persuading other people to do his bidding.”
Stepping back, Jenna made space to include Rafe in the discussion. “I can listen to him, Rafe. Mr….” she stopped herself once more. “Blake isn’t going to convince me to do anything I shouldn’t.”
Then she gave her lawyer a weak smile. “I have to persuade twenty-five children every day to do exactly what they’re supposed to do. My persuasive skills might be on par with Mr. Winston’s.” She looked up at him almost apologetically for forgetting to use his first name again.
No matter how upset Jenna Winton was, she had spirit and a determination of her own that would give him a run for his money…or his child. “Let’s go for a drive,” Blake suggested.
She looked surprised. “Now?”
“Yes, right now. We can stop and get something for an early supper.”
“Jenna…” Rafe warned.
Moving closer to her lawyer, she put her hand on his arm. “It’s all right, Rafe. Really. I’m sure Mr…. Blake doesn’t have anything underhanded up his sleeve. After all, you’re a witness that he’s asking me to supper. I promise I won’t sign or agree to anything without consulting you.”
Looking unhappy with
