Branded. Annette BroadrickЧитать онлайн книгу.
he reached the house and parked, Jake noticed a black limousine sitting in the shadows beneath the trees. That would be Tiffany, all right, always traveling in style.
With an irritated sigh, Jake got out of the cab of the truck, slammed the door with a satisfying sound and strode toward a side entrance. The sharp sound of his boots on the patio echoed his impatience. He stepped inside the door that opened into the kitchen.
He stopped just inside the doorway. Tiffany sat at the kitchen bar, calmly sipping a glass of iced tea. She’d cut her hair since he’d last seen her and she had on slacks and an open-necked shirt, looking as though she were waiting for a modeling shoot, her hair and makeup impeccable.
As soon as she saw him, Tiffany slipped off the stool and faced him, smiling brilliantly. He recognized—only because he knew her so well—that she was nervous.
Smart woman.
It took a lot of nerve for her to walk into his house when he wasn’t there and make herself at home.
He leaned against the doorjamb, folded his arms and waited, his eyes shaded by his hat.
Her smile dimmed.
“Hello, Jake,” she said in her sultry voice.
There had been a time when that voice had done all kinds of things to him. He was considerably older and a great deal wiser now.
“What’re you doing here?”
A tiny frown appeared between her brows as she fluttered her lashes in simulated surprise. “Is that any way to greet me?” she finally replied, her bottom lip sliding out enough to form a provocative pout. “Ed brought me all the way out here to see you. You could at least be polite.”
“I’m not feeling particularly polite at the moment. Who’s Ed?”
“Edward James Littlefield Jr.”
“Never heard of him.”
She made a face. “Of course not. He and his family are quite well known in the Dallas area…banking, you know.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
She clasped her hands together and attempted another smile, her nervousness more obvious as her bracelets jangled around her wrists.
“I brought you something.”
He straightened and started toward her. “Cut out the games, Tiffany. They don’t work any more. I don’t want anything from you. So if that’s why you’re here—”
She turned and hurried across the room toward the hallway and said, “But you haven’t seen what I brought you, yet,” she said over her shoulder.
He strode after her. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asked once he reached the front foyer.
“You’ll see,” she replied lightly as she ran up the wide, curving staircase toward the second floor. She didn’t look back.
Damn, but she was irritating! Always playing games, never saying what she actually meant. He shook his head in disgust and followed her. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, she was hurrying toward his wing of the house as if she knew he would stop her if he caught up with her.
He wanted to shake her silly. Once he reached her, he would haul her butt out of his house, but by the time he was close enough, she was already entering one of the bedrooms. Surely she didn’t actually think he’d hop in bed with her, did she? He reached the bedroom door and peered inside. She stood beside the bed, her finger to her lips. A night-light that wasn’t there earlier gave the room a soft glow.
When she remained silent, he walked over to where she stood and glanced at the bed.
He froze when he saw what was there. Or rather, who was there. A little girl, clutching a faded pink stuffed rabbit with an ear missing, lay there sound asleep, the covers pulled to her shoulders.
He glanced at Tiffany, wondering what she was up to now.
The child had blond curly hair and delicate features. He had no idea how old she was or why she was there.
He shook his head wearily and walked out of the room. He didn’t stop until he reached the kitchen. Once there, he went to the refrigerator and reached for a beer. When Tiffany followed him into the room, he turned to face her. “What in the hell is going on, Tiffany?”
“She’s your daughter. Her name is Heather and I’m leaving her here with you.”
Two
Jake looked at her in silence for several moments before he shook his head in disgust. “Very funny, Tiffany. You’ll notice that I’m not laughing, however. Need I remind you that we never had children? As I recall, once we were married, you informed me that you didn’t want children because pregnancy would ruin your figure.”
He drank a swallow of beer and struggled to hang on to his temper. “What game do you think you’re playing here? I haven’t seen you in years. Did you suddenly decide that I’m an easier touch than the father of that little girl? Sorry, but that kite won’t fly. I’m not paying you child support, Tiffany. You can’t hang that one on me. I want you to go upstairs, get your daughter and get the hell out of my home.”
It wasn’t the child’s fault her mother had no integrity, he reminded himself. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for the little girl, given her circumstances.
He rolled the bottle he held across his forehead to cool off. What he needed was to stick his head into one of the horse troughs outside. If he stayed in the same room with Tiffany much longer, he might forget that his mama had taught him always to be a gentleman, regardless of the provocation.
Without a word, Jake walked outside and sat down at one of the patio tables.
He stared into the night. The moon was high in the sky, almost full, giving enough light to see the rolling hills beyond his home. The vista usually had a calming effect on him. He hoped it would work this time.
There was no reason to let her get under his skin like that. Getting him to react had probably been her plan all along, wanting to see what he would say and do. Well, she had her answer.
The door opened behind him. He turned his head and watched Tiffany come outside empty-handed. His jaw tightened as she walked in and out of the shadows to the table where he sat. She sat across from him, the light from the kitchen window falling across her face.
He waited for her to speak and when she didn’t, he said, “Didn’t you forget something? I want you and your little girl gone. Now.”
Tiffany lifted her chin and stared back at him. He knew that look. She was ready to fight him if she didn’t get her own way. Well, too bad. She could throw as many temper tantrums as she wanted to throw, but they wouldn’t work. He wasn’t going to take her child and pretend it was his.
“Do you remember the night before I moved out of here?”
“Are you talking about the night you crawled into my bed after I was asleep?” he asked grimly.
She smiled at him and nodded. “Yes. I wanted to show you that you might deny me other things, but you never denied me sex.”
“You made your point. Making love to you was the only thing I seemed to do that you approved of. So what?”
“Well, as things turned out, I was a little too eager that night and since you were more than half asleep, we didn’t use protection. Imagine my surprise when I discovered I was pregnant.” She looked down at her clasped hands, resting on the table. “Mother Nature’s little joke on me.” Her voice had flattened by the time she’d stopped speaking.
“And I’m supposed to believe that?”
She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his. “I really don’t care what you believe. She was born nine months after that night. Do the math.”