Delores Fossen - Confiscated Conception

Jared touched her arm with his fingers and rubbed softly. More of the pretense. It was a gesture meant to comfort and reassure.

It didn’t work.

He felt her muscles tighten even more.

“Could you give us some time alone?” Jared asked the detectives. He didn’t look back at Miller and Smith, nor did he take his attention off the obviously irritated woman in front of him. “Rachel’s going in the Witness Protection Program after she testifies against Clarence Esterman this afternoon, so this is my last chance to be with her.”

Detective Miller practically marched across the room and joined them. “Sorry, but I’m not allowed to let Rachel out of my sight. Especially not today.”

Jared gave her his best wise-guy glare. “Then, you’d better brace yourself for one helluva peep show, Detective, because I intend to take my wife in the bedroom and do my best to talk her out of this divorce.”

Rachel opened her mouth and then closed it just as quickly. She pulled her eyebrows together. Jared gave her arm a gentle squeeze, hoping it would buy him a little more cooperation. It bought him a scowl.

“I have orders from the captain—”

“I’m a cop,” Jared reminded Miller. “Head of Special Investigations and your superior officer. The captain’s order is that Rachel be guarded at all times. She will be—by me—and it’ll happen in the bedroom.”

Jared didn’t wait to see if Rachel or Miller would call his bluff. He latched onto Rachel and got her moving toward the back of the house.

“What’s this all about?” Rachel demanded in an angry whisper.

Jared didn’t answer. Not with the detectives right behind them in the hallway. He’d studied the floor plan of the house so he knew where her living quarters were. He maneuvered Rachel into the makeshift suite and slammed the door before Miller could invite herself in.

“I don’t have time to explain everything,” Jared informed her. “I have to get you out of here—now.”

Surprise and then outrage raced through her eyes. It was an understandable reaction. He was feeling plenty of outrage himself.

Jared clamped his hand over her mouth before she could voice her emotions. “Just listen.”

But she didn’t. Rachel shoved his hand away. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I want no part of it, understand? Just give me the divorce papers, damn it, and I’ll sign them.”

“There are no divorce papers.”

Other than a somewhat shocked look, Rachel didn’t have time to react to that news flash.

“Rachel?” Detective Miller called out. “Are you sure you’re all right in there?”

Jared moved quickly when he heard the door open, and he cursed himself for not locking it. It was time to beef up the charade, since Miller obviously wasn’t backing off.

He snapped Rachel to him and kissed her as if they hadn’t been separated for the past fourteen months. In the same motion, he slid his hand beneath her T-shirt. With everything else going on, he sure as hell shouldn’t have noticed that she was wearing only a tiny, silky swatch of a bra.

Lace, at that.

Miller cleared her throat. “If you need me, Rachel, just yell. I’ll be right outside.”

The moment Miller shut the door, Rachel pushed Jared away from her. “What the heck is wrong with you?”

“Plenty.” Jared hurried to the door and locked it. “It’s been a really bad night, and the morning hasn’t gotten any better.”

Not wasting any time, he went to the closet. It was in perfect order. As he’d known it would be. Rachel arranged and organized things when she was nervous. And when she was really nervous, she paced. He figured she’d be pacing and organizing a lot before this was over.

Jared grabbed a pair of running shoes and jeans from the closet and thrust them into her hands. “I don’t have time to soothe your doubts or convince you that I’m doing the right thing. I have to get you out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Rachel dropped the shoes on the floor, but with incensed tugs and jerks, she did put on the jeans over her workout shorts. “In a little less than three hours, I’m leaving to testify against Clarence Esterman, and the officers outside will be the ones driving me. Not you.”

“You can’t testify,” Jared said. “Not today, anyway.”

“Judas Priest!” Rachel propped her hands on her hips and stared at him. “Are you saying there’s been another trial delay? Because if there has been—”

She stopped, and just like that, the color drained from her face. She slowly sank onto the edge of the bed. “My God, did Esterman get to you? Did he send you here to try to talk me out of testifying?”

Jared cursed. Hell. She obviously thought he was lower than slime to have suggested something like that. It meant there was nothing he could say that would make her change her mind about leaving with him.

Instead, he’d have to show her.

Jared finished putting on her shoes, tied the laces with far more force than required and then reached inside his jacket. He yanked out the envelope.

“I told you earlier on the phone that I’d sign the divorce papers,” she continued, her voice getting more indignant with each word. “There’s no reason for us to go through this—whatever the heck this is. You can have the town house. The car. Everything. I’ll need to start fresh anyway, once they give me a new identity.”

Jared ignored her, opened the envelope and extracted the photo of the newborn baby. When she refused to take it, he dropped it on the bed next to her.

Rachel glanced at it and shrugged. “So? What does that have to do with our divorce or with me testifying against my former boss?”

He had to unclench his jaw so he could speak. “I’ve been told that the baby in that photo is my son.”

Her head whipped up, her eyes narrowed and accusing. He could almost see her process that bit of startling information. She didn’t process it well. With reason. Before they’d gone their separate ways, Rachel and he had spent two long years trying to conceive a child.

They’d failed.

And so had their marriage.

Rachel swallowed hard. “You have a son?”

Jared wasn’t immune to the hurt he saw on her face. But that hurt was nothing compared to what he’d no doubt see when he told her the rest.

“It seems that way. He’s six days old.” Jared hadn’t meant his explanation to grind to a halt, but then, he hadn’t counted on his mouth turning to dust either. Hell. He hated the people who’d set all of this in motion.

Rachel shook a head, a nervous shudder. Obviously she didn’t understand. But how could she possibly understand this? He’d had hours to try to absorb it and still didn’t understand.

She reached for the picture, but instead her fingers curled into a tight fist. “My God, you didn’t waste any time. So, who’s the baby’s mother? Is she someone I know?”

Jared caught her shoulders. Their gazes locked. “You’re the mother, Rachel. According to the DNA report, he’s our son. Ours.”

THE ONLY THING that saved Rachel from losing it then and there was that Jared was obviously lying. He had to be. But what she couldn’t figure out was why he was doing something so intentionally cruel.

“Why are you telling me this?” She got up from the bed, snatched up the photograph and shoved it back into the pocket of his black leather jacket. She didn’t want even another glimpse of that image of the newborn. “You want to upset me? To get back at me for all the things that went on between us? Then, fine. You’ve upset me. Now, get out of here.”

He caught her hand when she started to pace. “It’s the truth, Rachel.”

That stopped her in her tracks. There wasn’t any hesitation in his voice. Not even a hint. And it was that sheer conviction that had Rachel studying him. What she saw in the depths of those whiskey-colored eyes sent her stomach plummeting to her knees.