was quiet for a moment, as if assessing her and her answer. “Did you love him?” he finally asked.
“I love Emma,” she answered quickly, perhaps too quickly. “That’s all that matters now. She and I are very happy with the way things are.”
She followed his gaze as he looked around the room. “Things appear to be very good, Miss Roberts. Do you have a...roommate?”
Savannah bristled at the implication in his sarcastic tone. She realized an expensive town house like this one would be difficult for most single women to maintain. Lord knew, she never would have been able to afford it on her teacher’s salary, but for Angela it had been no problem. The lease was paid up for another four months; then Savannah knew she’d have to move to a smaller place.
“No, Mr. Stone, I don’t have a roommate. I don’t need or want one.”
He raised one brow, and when his gaze settled on the hairbrush she’d left lying on the armchair, his eyes narrowed. “And Emma,” he said, staring thoughtfully at the brush, “what about her?”
Savannah gritted her teeth at Jake’s question, but if answering a few questions would get rid of the man, then she was happy to oblige. “She attends a prestigious private girl’s school, has piano lessons every Tuesday and soccer on Saturdays. Other than an occasional argument over eating spinach or picking up her dirty clothes, the two of us get along beautifully.”
Jake rested his arms across the back of the couch. His gaze dropped to her left hand. “So you never married.”
“No.”
“And Emma doesn’t know who her father is.”
Savannah’s jaw tightened. “It wasn’t necessary.”
“Is that your answer or Emma’s?”
Savannah felt as if a band were cinching around her chest, squeezing the breath from her. “I asked you before what you want with us, Mr. Stone. I’ll ask you that again.”
“And I’ll answer you again. I’m here to meet Emma.”
“And if I agree, then what?”
“She’s my sister. The Stone family never walks away from one of their own.”
Panic filled Savannah at Jake’s comment. What was he saying? That he wanted to take Emma? She’d never let that happen. Never. She’d run so far the Stone family would never find her or Emma.
Shoulders stiff, Savannah stood and faced Jake. “Why you think you have the right to waltz in here and make demands is beyond me, but as far as I’m concerned, this conversation is through. I think you better leave, Mr. Stone.”
He didn’t budge. Instead, he slowly let his gaze scan her, starting at her legs, hesitating at her breasts, then finally resting on her face. The perusal was long and detailed, and as furious as it made her, Savannah also felt a hot swirl low in her stomach. Clenching her fists, she started to turn toward the front door.
“How old are you, Miss Roberts?”
She went still at his question, then slowly turned back to face him. “Excuse me?’
“I said—” Jake stood “—how old are you?”
Savannah nervously brushed her hair back from her face. “What business is that of yours?”
“I would guess you’re around twenty-five or -six.”
She said nothing, just stared at him.
“And that would make you about sixteen or seventeen when you had an affair with my father.”
Dammit, dammit! There’d been too many years separating her and Angela. Savannah had tried to look older. Conservative clothes and extra makeup. Obviously she’d underestimated Jake Stone.
“I look younger than I am,” she said truthfully. She was twenty-seven.
He kept his eyes on her. “What was my father’s first name?”
Savannah felt her throat go dry. “J.T., of course.”
Impatience twitched at the corner of his mouth. “What was his first name?”
How could she possibly know that? Angela had never wanted anyone to know who Emma’s father was. If the private investigator hadn’t called, Savannah never would have known his name at all. “He didn’t tell me.”
Jake stared sharply down at her. “You supposedly slept with my father and had his child, but you don’t know his first name?”
It was only there for a split second, but Jake saw the fear in the woman’s eyes. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by icy indifference. Lifting her shoulders, she turned stiffly away from him.
“I’ll show you out, Mr. Stone.”
His hand snaked out, catching her by the elbow and holding her fast. “What the hell kind of a game are you playing?”
She stared down coolly at his hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you don’t let go of me and leave right now, I’m going to scream.”
He held fast. “Go ahead and scream. Then if I have to bring in a lawyer, we can find out who you really are and why you’re lying.”
At the mention of a lawyer, she went still. Her frightened gaze darted to his, then, with a long sigh, she closed her eyes. “You don’t understand,” she said quietly.
“You’re damn right I don’t understand. But if you think you can put me off while you figure out a way to get your hands on the land, then you’re sadly mistaken. There’s no way I’m going to stand around and watch while you or anyone else sells off even one foot of Stone Creek.”
She looked genuinely confused. “Land? What are you—”
Jake wasn’t sure what suddenly caught his attention, a soft cry, or a movement at the hall doorway, but he turned then and saw her. A little girl. Her long hair shone dark as a Texas night, and her eyes, filled now with tears, were as blue as cornflowers.
His heart lurched. He stared at the child and knew without a doubt it was Emma. And he also knew without a doubt that she was J.T.’s daughter. The resemblance was uncanny. The little girl was Jessica’s clone, right down to the slight cleft in the chin and pert nose. Amazed, he loosened his grip on the woman, but didn’t let go. She turned then and saw the child.
“Emma!” She jerked out of his hold and moved across the room to the little girl. “I told you to stay in your room.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Savannah, but I heard somebody yell,” Emma said in a tiny shaky voice.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry if we scared you,” Savannah said softly, and took hold of Emma’s hand. “We really didn’t mean to speak so loud.” She turned and sent Jake a piercing look. “Did we, Mr. Stone?”
Jake felt an instant pang of guilt. He was the only one who had
