in bottom of the tube. According to the directions, that meant the test was positive. Positive, as in the rabbit died.
So the woman really was pregnant. He hadn’t counted on that, but it meant nothing to him.
Or did it?
The baby wasn’t his, that was for sure, but it didn’t mean someone hadn’t tried to use her to get to him. Well, maybe. Maybe this really was a scheme she’d come up with on her own. No kidnappers. No being held hostage for three months. Just her plot to get him to pay up. Or Markham’s plot to ruin him.
Except, she did look surprised by that little ring. Stunned, really. And maybe just a little scared. There was something in those gray eyes of hers that made him want to comfort her.
He resisted. Of course.
It would be stupid to comfort her.
“I don’t know why you look so shocked,” he said, when she sank back onto the chair. “Just two days ago you broke into my suite and told me you were pregnant. Now you’re acting like this is some big surprise.”
“It is.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. “Seeing the proof. It’s true. My God, it’s true. There’s really a baby.”
She put her arms on the table and leaned forward to cushion her face on them. She reminded Jake of a schoolgirl who was being punished. He only hoped she didn’t start to cry. The tears would be fake, no doubt, but he didn’t want to handle even fake crying right now.
He had to admit Jessie did seem genuinely upset, though. Maybe because he had discovered her lie. Yes, that was it. Or maybe because the pregnancy was unplanned, and that created a lot of personal problems for her. Without the blackmail money, her resources no doubt were limited, and she was probably trying to figure out a way to pay for her slip-up.
“Guess you’ll have to call the father and let him know about that little blue ring,” he calmly suggested.
Jessie raised her head slowly and gave him a look that could have frozen molten lava. “Don’t you have somewhere else to go?”
“Not at the moment.” He scraped his thumbnail over a strip of loose varnish on the nightstand. For some reason, he couldn’t stop looking at the test tube. Such a little thing to deliver what was, apparently, a bombshell. He hadn’t remembered his late wife, Anne, taking such a test. But of course, her pregnancy had been closely monitored by doctors right from the beginning.
For all the good it had done.
That’s why this scheme bothered him so much. If Abel Markham had put this together, he certainly knew the right buttons to push. A pregnancy. A child. Nothing could have stirred up old wounds as much as this did. It had been nearly four years to the day since Anne died trying to give birth to their child. To their son. Four years of hell. Four years of blaming himself.
Yes, somebody knew exactly which buttons to push. If it wasn’t Markham, then it was this woman. Either way, Jake wouldn’t let them get away with it.
“Tell me about the baby’s father,” he insisted, forcing himself away from the memories of Anne and his son. “Was he in on this scheme, too?”
He hadn’t thought the lava-freezing look could get worse, but it did. Significantly worse. She glared at him. Her jaw tightened, and her voice got louder with each word. “Yes, I think he’s in on it up to his proverbial eyeballs. He’s a bottom-feeding, pompous, smart-mouth jerk. My greatest wish is that at this very minute a bolt of lightning will come streaking down on him and fry him to a crispy critter.”
“Careful. One might think you’re talking about me.”
She opened her mouth as if to add more to her name-calling litany, but then wearily shook her head. “Just go away.”
“I will, after you look me in the eye and answer two questions. What’s the name of the baby’s father, and is Abel Markham the one who hired you?”
She slowly met his gaze again. “You don’t want answers, McClendon. What you want is for me to lie. You want me to deny everything, so you can go home to your nice big ranch and put all of this behind you. Well, I can’t do that.”
“Because you think I’ll call the cops. I won’t. All I want is the truth.”
“You mean the truth according to Jake McClendon.”
“The truth. Is Markham behind this?”
“I don’t know.” She repeated it, but then her tone changed. No longer confrontational. No easily flung insults. Jessie stared at the floor and ran her fingers over her temple. “Maybe. Maybe that’s why they said your name, so I would suspect you. I hadn’t considered that until now.”
He groaned. “Now we’re back to kidnapping and vials?”
“Look, why don’t you just go—”
“Not until you tell me who got you pregnant.”
“All right, I’ll tell you.” Jessie grabbed his arm and shoved him into the tiny bathroom. She jabbed a finger at the filmy mirror and his reflection. “That’s him. That’s the father of this baby. Now I know you don’t want that to be true. Believe me, neither do I, but I can’t change things. I can’t go back three months and stop myself from being kidnapped. I can’t stop them from violating me and using me as some pawn in their sick game.”
The burst of emotion left as quickly as it came. She sagged against the wall. “Will you please just go?”
“Not yet.” He roughly cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Give me one good reason why I should believe anything you’ve said. I know who you are, remember? I know you worked at some sleazy joint where you probably turned tricks on the side or danced naked on tables for money.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I was a cocktail waitress. Look at me, for heaven’s sake. Do I look like a hooker or exotic dancer?” Jake did look at her. She was still sickly pale, and it seemed as if she’d cut her hair with a dull weed whacker. Far from sexy. Still, there was something appealing about her. The mouth, he figured. It was full and sensuous. That mouth would attract some men. And her eyes. When she wasn’t ready to spit bullets at him, her eyes mellowed to a soft platinum color.
His gaze traveled downward. Voluptuous, she wasn’t. Not by anybody’s standards. Her breasts were small, well-shaped, and because she obviously wasn’t wearing a bra, he could see her nipples pressed against the stretchy fabric of her top. After feeling his body clench, he decided it wasn’t good to look at her breasts. Jessie Barrett might be a natural-born liar, and pregnant, but for reasons he didn’t want to explore, his body seemed to respond to her.
Her waist was small, as well. A flat stomach that made him wonder just how many weeks’ pregnant she really was. The jeans she wore gapped at the waist and barely skimmed over her hips. Her legs, like the rest of her, were slender. And long. She was easily five feet eight inches tall. He was just over six feet and didn’t have to drop his gaze too much to look her in the eye.
Not that he especially wanted to look into her eyes.
“Well?” she demanded.
Jake realized she was still waiting for an answer. Somehow, he’d forgotten
