“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 the whole idea, Rafe asked, “Do you have your cell phone?”
She blushed. “No. It wasn’t charged so I left it in the apartment.”
“I do have a cell phone.” Blake dislodged it from his belt and handed it to Jenna. “You take this. Apparently Mr. Pierson thinks you may have to send out a mayday.”
With a shake of her head, Jenna returned the phone to him. “I’m pregnant, gentlemen—not incapable of looking after myself or using my common sense.”
Blake almost smiled and knew he was right about Jenna not being fragile.
Rafe plowed his hand through his hair. “I can’t talk you out of this?”
“No, but just to make you feel better, I’ll call you when I get back.”
“I understand she’s pregnant, Pierson,” Blake assured her attorney. “I won’t take any chances with her or with my baby.”
“All right,” Rafe finally decided. “But there’s just one more thing before you go. Jenna, can I see you privately for a few minutes?”
Seeing that Pierson was obviously Jenna’s friend as well as her lawyer, Blake knew when to let well enough alone. “I’ll tell Schlessinger and the others that the meeting is concluded for today. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Fifteen minutes later, Jenna sat beside Blake in his Lexus feeling nervous and unsettled. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. There was something about Blake Winston that made her feel electrified. When he’d touched her in the parking lot…
Blake hadn’t spoken much but instead switched on the CD player. She supposed the music was supposed to relax her. It was instrumental—piano, violins and guitar that at any other time she might have enjoyed. But as the man beside her glanced over at her, she knew she had to make conversation. She knew she had to figure out what she was doing here with him.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I’m heading for the Delta. My boat’s there.”
“Your boat?”
“It’s a cabin cruiser. I thought we might take it out.”
“I’ve never been on a boat before. What if I get seasick?”
He smiled at her. “If you do, I’ll bring it back to the marina. Nothing else on earth is as relaxing as being out on the water.”
“You think being relaxed is going to help us?”
“It won’t hurt. Don’t you think better when you’re relaxed?”
She didn’t know if he was teasing or not. “I’ve never considered it.”
He laughed at that and she liked the sound. It was rich and deep, like his voice.
“What was the last-minute advice Pierson gave you?”
She could see no harm in passing on Rafe’s warning. “He warned me not to tell you too much about anything. He doesn’t want me to inadvertently help you make your position stronger.”
Blake’s mouth tightened and his jaw set. As he pulled up to a red light, he turned to look at her. “How long have you and Pierson been friends?”
“About three years. His wife, Shannon, is a psychologist. I consulted with her about one of my students.”
“He seems to be as much of a friend as a lawyer.”
“He is. He and Shannon were both terrific through everything…everything that happened.” Although Shannon had children to care for—Janine, Rafe’s