Sandra Marton - Claiming His Love-Child

“But you’re not going to find out. I told you, I don’t have to—Hey. Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

Cullen was tugging her toward the door. Marissa tried to dig in her heels, but he paid no attention.

“Stop it!” she said in a frantic whisper. “Are you crazy? You’ll cost me my job!”

“Tell her you’re taking a break to talk to an old friend,” he growled when Blondie hurried toward them.

“Marissa? You okay? You want me to call the cops?”

And turn this bad dream into a full-fledged nightmare? “No,” Marissa said quickly, “No, I’m fine. I’m just—I’m taking a break…”

The next thing she knew, she was tucked in the passenger seat of Cullen’s car and they were pulling away from the curb and into traffic.

MARISSA swung toward Cullen.

“Are you insane?” Her voice rose until it was a shriek. “Take me back! Turn this car around and take me—”

“Buckle your seat belt.”

“You son of a bitch! Did you hear what I said?” She lunged toward him and slammed her fist into his shoulder. “Take-me-back!”

Cullen took one hand from the steering wheel and wrapped it around hers.

“You want to hit me, wait until we stop moving. For now, keep your hands to yourself. And put on that belt.”

She stared at him. His profile looked as if it had been chiseled from stone. He was driving fast, weaving in and out of traffic, and she knew she had about as much chance of getting him to take her back to the Chiliburger as she had of changing what happened the weekend they’d met.

You couldn’t turn back time.

Marissa lay a hand protectively over her belly. Then she clipped the ends of her seat belt together.

Given the chance, she wasn’t even sure she would turn it back. At first, oh God, at first, she’d have given anything to erase that night but now—now, things had changed. She’d faced what had happened, gone from hating the changes in her life to hating only herself for her weakness and stupidity, for making the same mistakes her mother had made…

No.

She took a deep breath.

She wasn’t going there. All that was behind her and, anyway, it had nothing to do with the man sitting beside her except in the most fundamental way. Besides, why was she wasting time on this nonsense? She had more immediate concerns. Her job. She’d come in late again, and two minutes later, Cullen had dragged her away. Would Tony take her back? He would. He had to. She’d beg. She’d grovel, if that was what it took. She needed the money desperately.

How would a man like Cullen O’Connell, born to wealth and power, ever understand that?

She’d tell Tony that Cullen was an old boyfriend. That he’d just gotten in from out of town. She’d laugh, make it seem as if it was all about being macho. That was true enough. Cullen did have a macho quality. Tony thought he had one, too, but it wasn’t the same. Cullen’s was the kind some women found attractive.

All right. She’d found it attractive, but that didn’t give him the right to swagger into her life and take over. As for telling him why she’d quit school, changed all her plans…that wasn’t going to happen.

The only way to handle him would be to play on that machismo. Make him think she saw his high-handed interference as gallantry, and that she appreciated it even if it had been misplaced.

Marissa cleared her throat.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but—”

“What street?”

“What?”

“I said, what street do you live on? I’m taking you home.”

“No,” she said quickly, “you’re not. You’re taking me back to the Chiliburger.”

“You want to give me your address, or you want to drive in circles until we run out of gas?” He looked at her as they stopped at a red light. “Your choice, lady.”

Lady. The way he said it turned the word into something vaguely impolite. So much for finding a way to handle him.

“I don’t think you understand,” she said, trying to stay calm. “I need that job.”

“You have a bachelor’s degree and three years of law school.” He smiled sardonically as he stepped on the gas. “Oh yeah. Right. I’ll just bet you sure as hell need a job serving burgers and fries.”

“How readily you jump to conclusions, Mr. O’Connell. I have a degree in political science. Do you see anybody clamoring for my services? As for three years of law school…‘Sorry, Miss Perez,"’ she said in a high-pitched voice, “‘but we really don’t have any openings in our office for paralegals."’ She looked at Cullen, eyes flashing dangerously. “Translation. ‘Are you kidding? Why would our attorneys want to work with a clerk who probably thinks she knows everything?”’

“Okay. So getting a good job would be tough.”

Marissa sank back in her seat and folded her arms. “Something like that,” she said tonelessly.

“What about your scholarship money?”

“What scholarship money?”

“Ian Hutchins says—”

“I had a scholarship. You have to attend school full-time to keep it.”

“And?”

Look how he’d drawn her into this discussion! Marissa blew back the hair that had fallen over her forehead.

“And,” she said coolly, “this conversation is over.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds. Then Cullen looked at her.

“I’m still waiting. Where do you live?”

“None of your business. How many times do I have to tell you that? Take me back to the Chiliburger.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet your boss would like that. What’s he do, work you twelve hours a day?”

“Tony agreed to give me extra hours, yes.”

“What a prince,” Cullen said sarcastically. “Hasn’t he noticed you look like you’re going to fall on your face any minute?”

Marissa almost laughed. Tony probably had no idea what she looked like. She was a waitress, a commodity about as invisible in a place like the Chiliburger as the film of old grease on the griddle.

But she wasn’t going to tell that to Cullen. She wasn’t going to tell him anything. She’d made that decision months ago.

She could take care of herself. She always had…except for that night. How could it have happened? Hadn’t she learned anything, growing up?

Some girls’ mothers taught them to cook or sew.

Hers had taught her the truth about men, and life.

The day she got her first period, her mother handed her a box of tampons and a bucket of advice.

“You’re a woman now, Mari,” she’d said. “Men will look at you, but don’t you let ’em come near you. They’re all like the son of a bitch planted you inside me, gruntin’ between your legs, then zippin’ up their pants and walkin’ away. The rest is your problem. You remember that, girl. Nothin’ lasts, especially if you’re dumb enough to hope it will.”

She always had remembered, until Cullen. How come? Was it because her mother had omitted one salient bit of advice, that when a man took your breath away, he took away your ability to think?

That’s what had happened to her. Cullen had taken her breath away. One look, and she’d been lost. He was so ruggedly handsome, so funny, so smart…and each time their hands accidentally brushed, it seemed as if a bolt of electricity sizzled straight through her bones.

No matter. She wasn’t her mother, despite what had happened. She wouldn’t confront a man who was little more than a stranger with a truth he wouldn’t want to hear. She wouldn’t beg him to believe her. She knew how things would go if a woman named Perez tried to tell a man like Cullen O’Connell that he’d played a role in a sad little tragedy that was really of her own making.

Her fault, all of it.