Secret Surrogate. Delores Fossen. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Delores Fossen
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежные детективы
Год издания: 0
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      It didn’t.

      But then, nothing would.

      It didn’t seem…fair.

      There. He’d let the thought fully materialize in his head. Yeah, it was petty. Beyond petty, really. It was spiteful. But it put a rock-hard knot in his gut to know that the woman responsible for the deaths of his wife and unborn child was having a child of her own.

      What’s wrong with this picture? he wanted to shout to the powers that be.

      “Are you okay?” he heard Kylie ask. Definitely not a shout. Practically a whisper.

      Lucas laughed. But it wasn’t from humor. Damn the irony of this. And damn the flashbacks and the nightmarish memories of that day when his world had come crashing down around him.

      “I’m fine,” he lied.

      “Hmm.” She paused. “You know, if I were wearing a BS meter, it’d be going nuts about right now. Because you don’t look fine.”

      He shot her a glance over his shoulder to let her know it wasn’t a good time to push this. But then, it was never a good time to push this particular subject.

      What he should do was just leave. He should get the heck out of there. Off Kylie’s porch. Off her property. Away from her. Miles away. Unfortunately, his legs wouldn’t cooperate. They’d seemingly turned to dust. So he stood there and pretended to do a routine surveillance of the yard and the surrounding woods.

      However, it was anything but routine.

      Seeing Kylie again, especially a pregnant Kylie, was like ripping open all the old wounds. Wounds that would never heal. Even though, until tonight, he would have sworn that he was getting on with his life.

      And he was.

      Well, for the most part.

      He would probably never be able to fully recover from the deaths of his wife and unborn baby. Lucas considered that a moment and took out the probably. No full recovery for him. He wasn’t coming back from that.

      But he had a future now. Heck, in four and a half months he’d even get to experience fatherhood. Finally.

      No thanks to Kylie.

      That thanks belonged to the anonymous surrogate he’d hired through an agency in San Antonio. Only because of her would he get a second chance at having a life.

      Hugging her faded blue bathrobe tightly to her body, Kylie stepped out on the frost-scabbed porch. She kept a safe distance, but somehow it still felt too close.

      “You’re upset because I’m pregnant,” she said.

      Leave it to Kylie to lay it all out there. That was one of the things he’d always admired about her—her frankness. Oh, and her honesty. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in the mood for either tonight.

      “How am I supposed to feel?” Lucas replied. And he actually hoped she had the answer. Because he was having a heck of a time sorting it all out.

      “Confused. Hurt,” she promptly supplied. Her warm breath mixed with the cold air and created a misty haze when she spoke. Against her pale ivory skin, it had an almost otherworldly effect. As if this were all just a dream. He wished to hell it was. “And you’re probably mad at yourself for feeling those things since you’re not a mean-spirited man.”

      Lucas scowled. “You’re sure about that last part? Because I don’t think it’s my imagination that I’m feeling a little mean-spirited here.”

      The scowl obviously didn’t put her off. The right corner of her mouth temporarily lifted before it eased back down.

      “Lucas, you’re stubborn, inflexible and prone to bouts of misguided stoicism. I blame that last part on your cowboy roots. You can’t help yourself.” Kylie shook her head, sending a lock of her honey-blond hair slipping onto her forehead. “But you don’t have the heart to be mean-spirited.”

      Probably because it was too close to the truth and because he didn’t want this weird intimacy and understanding between them, Lucas decided to end this little personality evaluation. “You have no idea what’s in my heart.”

      “Touché.” Kylie waited a moment while the wind howled around them. She shifted her feet. No shoes. Just a pair of grayed weathered socks that were sagging around her ankles. There was a tiny hole just over her right pinkie. “Still, I’m sorry. Being around me like this can’t be easy for you.”

      No.

      It never would be.

      “The rumor mill in Fall Creek is pretty good,” he said, testing the waters. Why, he didn’t know. Her pregnancy was none of his business.

      And he mentally repeated that to himself.

      It didn’t help.

      He still wanted to know, which made him some kind of sick glutton for punishment.

      Her body language changed. Gone was the semi-cocky demeanor that was part of Kylie’s trademark personality, and her shoulders slumped. “I don’t think the rumor mill knew about the baby.”

      It didn’t, or the word would have certainly made it back to him. He wished it had, and then he wouldn’t have been blindsided by this 911 call. And it was that 911 aspect of this visit that he needed to concentrate on.

      Lucas swept his gaze around the woods. Like the other times, he saw nothing to indicate the hunters, trespassers, or God knows who or what were still around. Maybe he’d scared them off, and if so, that meant his job here was done.

      Almost.

      “Is there someone you can call to stay with you tonight?” Lucas asked. It was procedure. Something he would have asked of any woman who’d just been frightened enough to phone the sheriff’s office.

      “Sure,” she said without hesitation.

      Now, it was his turn to pause. He angled his head, stared at her. “If I were wearing a BS meter, it’d be going nuts about right now. You don’t have anyone to call, do you?”

      Her chin came up, but that little display of bravado didn’t quite make it to her slightly narrowed indigo-blue eyes. “If you mean my baby’s father, no. He’s not in the picture. But despite what you think of me, I’m not totally friendless. I have people who can come over.”

      However, that didn’t mean she would rely on those people. In fact, he was about a hundred percent certain that she’d make no such calls tonight. No. Not the independent, my-way-or-no-way Kylie. Once he was gone, she’d lock the doors, turn out the lights and sit there in the darkness. Holding her gun. All night. Terrified. And completely alone.

      Hell.

      The image of her doing that brought out all kinds of protective instincts in him. After all, she was pregnant. Out in the middle of the woods.

      Where anything could go wrong.

      “This isn’t your problem,” Kylie informed him, as if reading his mind. “I’m a big girl. Trust me, I can take care of myself.”

      “And that’s the reason you made the 911 call,” Lucas commented.

      That earned him another glare. She hiked up her chin again, and she cupped her hands around her mouth. “If anyone is stupid enough to be out there, hear this,” she shouted. “I’m freezing my butt off, and I’m in a really pissy mood. I also have a loaded .357 Magnum that I know how to use. My advice? Go home now!”

      With that, Kylie turned toward him, making sure that he understood that the go home now! suggestion applied to him, as well.

      She swiped that lock of hair from her forehead. An angry, indignant swipe. With trembling fingers. Her bottom lip started to tremble, as well. That shot some holes in the steely resolve she was trying to project. It also tested yet more of his protective instincts.

      Still, that was