Rebecca Winters: His Very Own Baby

Full of rage, Alik leaped to his feet, kicking a couple of geology journals out of the way with the tip of his boot. Did Blaire take him for a complete fool, one who would lie down and die for her? Is that what she really thought?

No doubt her latest fiancé was the man who’d made her pregnant, the one for whom she’d dumped Alik while he’d been out of town giving a geological seminar in Kentucky.

Now that the baby was born, the bastard didn’t want anything to do with it. He’d probably threatened to withhold financial support, so she’d decided to fob it off as Alik’s love child, hoping he would kick in with the funds.

Like hell!

He reached for the uncapped bottle and made his way through the cluttered trailer to his bedroom. But he couldn’t get away from her last salvo reverberating in his head.

I’m staying at the Bluebird Inn in Warwick until checkout time at eleven tomorrow morning. If you want to see your little boy, I’ll wait for you that long.

His bitterness had reached its zenith. He lifted the bottle to his lips. “You can wait until hell freezes over, my beloved,” he ground out before draining what was left.

Oblivion meant you never had to wake up. Unfortunately Alik’s respite from pain lasted only as long as the phone didn’t ring.

Disoriented because it was so dark in the room, he ran a hand over the stubble on his jaw and tried to sit up. The room spun. He felt like the devil, but the damn phone continued to jar his nerves.

Through bleary eyes he checked his watch. It was quarter to eight? He fell back against the pillow from dizziness. That meant he’d been passed out for ten hours.

What did he expect after drinking a bottle of scotch on an empty stomach!

His cell phone was in the other room. Who in the hell would let it ring twenty times?

Blaire. That’s who. She was desperate for money. Too bad she hadn’t figured out which side her bread was buttered on before she’d betrayed him with another man.

They’d only slept together once—the night before he’d had to leave to give that emergency seminar. From the beginning, he’d held off making love to her until after their marriage because he knew she was a virgin.

But something about his going away on that last unexpected trip had made her so insecure, she’d begged him to take her to bed, assuring him that her OB had put her on the pill at her premarital checkup. It had never occurred to him not to believe her.

At that point in time he’d been too seduced by her warmth and beauty, too deeply in love, too filled with desire for her to see what was coming.

The night they’d made love was the last time he would ever see her again.

Until this morning…

If she’d lied to him about the pill, then the baby could be anybody’s. As far as Alik was concerned, if he had fathered her child, then he wanted DNA proof of his paternity!

Staggering off the bed, he groped his way to the shower and let the water pour over his head until it cleared enough that he could make it to the kitchen without falling down.

The thought of a meal sounded repulsive, but he toasted a slice of bread to put something substantial in his stomach. Two cups of coffee later, he realized that if he didn’t bite the bait, he would always have a question in his mind about the real reason for her unprecedented visit.

Much as he dreaded the idea of seeing her again, of being in the same room with the only woman who’d ever held such fatal appeal for him, he couldn’t live with this thing left unresolved. Not if he wanted to survive the rest of his life.

Obviously he’d never known the real Blaire. It seemed she’d been a bewitching liar all along, deceitfully drawing him down to hell with silken cords fashioned expressly for him. But his instincts told him she wasn’t lying about the existence of a baby.

All that remained was to call her bluff. Then he could write Finished to the end of the script and toss it in the trash along with every bittersweet memory.

After brushing his teeth, he dressed in clean trousers and a polo shirt, then left the trailer.

“Dr. Jarman? Wait up!”

His head swam as he turned it. He held on to the door handle to regain his equilibrium. “Hello, Ms. Call. What can I do for you?” The attractive blond graduate student was starting to make a nuisance of herself.

“I’ve been trying to reach you on the phone. It’s Friday night. A whole bunch of us are getting together in Peter’s trailer for a party. They elected me to invite you.”

“That’s very nice of everyone but I’m afraid I have other plans.”

Not to be daunted she said, “The party will probably go all night. You’ll be welcome whenever you get back.”

“Don’t think I’m not appreciative of the invitation, but I haven’t partied in years and have no intention of starting now. Good night, Ms. Call.”

She followed him to his truck. “Why won’t you call me Sandy?”

“I never address female students by their first names on the job.” He got inside and shut the door.

“What about off the job?” she asked in a surprisingly brazen manner through the open window.

“There is no ‘off the job’ when it comes to students.”

The only time he’d broken that rule had been with Blaire. It had turned out to be the greatest mistake of his life. He had an idea he would spend the rest of eternity paying for it. Tonight was a case in point.

He backed away, then floored the accelerator, almost hoping the dust flew in the aggressive Ms. Call’s face so she would get the point. With Blaire it had been the other way around. He’d done all the running. Until she’d let him catch her…

She’d missed his first test and had called his office with an excuse that she’d gotten the flu and didn’t feel well enough to take the exam. Used to the wiles of some of the female students who traded on their good looks for favors, he didn’t believe her and told her to come into his office. He’d give her the exam orally if she couldn’t write.

The breathtaking, auburn-haired student ten to twelve years his junior who’d shown up for the appointment did indeed have the flu. She appeared unsteady on her feet and the red stains on her cheeks were due to a fever.

Without conscious thought he put the back of his hand to the skin of her cheek where her shoulder-length hair had been swept aside. It was hot to the touch. At the slight contact, surprised dove-gray eyes fringed by black lashes fused with his. In that moment he felt a quickening pass through both their bodies.

“Forgive me for not believing you,” he whispered, lowering his hand. “When did you notice the flu coming on?”

“This morning.”

He sucked in his breath. “You must feel wretched and should be home in bed. How did you drive here in this condition?”

“I took the bus.”

Scandalized by his insensitive treatment of her over the phone earlier, he said, “This is my fault. I’m through lecturing for today and will drive you home.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “That’s very kind of you, but it won’t be necessary. As long as I’m here, please let me take the test, then I’ll go.”

Though he could sense her reservations about being alone with him, he knew a fire had been lit inside her. The same fire had been ignited inside him when he’d touched her skin. An invisible energy crackled between them.

Her breathing had grown shallow. A tiny pulse in the scented hollow of her throat throbbed out of control. He had an irresistible urge to press his mouth to it.

“Forget the test. I’ll drive you home.”

“My parents’ house is twelve miles away from campus. That’s too far. I couldn’t let you do it.”

The more she retreated, the more determined he was to have his way.