Peekaboo Baby

Good. And her reaction would have probably stayed that way while she made her exit.

If he hadn’t continued.

“Just how much money did your father ask you to extort from me?”

Delaney took a step, retraced it and glared at McCall over her shoulder. Part of her knew she should just let it go, but the man had successfully pushed another of her buttons. “Not a cent. And if you think my father would send me here to get anything from you, then you obviously know nothing about either of us.”

This time, she actually made it out the door and into the massive hall outside his office.

“Your reaction to my son’s picture was a nice touch,” he taunted. “The little fluttery breath. The oh, God. You must have figured if you could convince me that you had given birth to my son, then I’d hand over everything I own to get him back. The ultimate blackmail scheme. You father would get his revenge, and you’d both be filthy rich. Emphasis on the filthy.”

The accusation stung, because there was no way she’d use her son to get back at him. Or anyone. But the wrongful accusation wouldn’t stop her from leaving. Delaney hurried toward the stairs.

“Was I supposed to believe that you recognized something in my son’s photo?” he called out. “Or maybe a better question would be—what did you pretend to see?”

He was wrong.

That wasn’t the better question.

The better question was why had that tiny face seemed familiar? So familiar that it’d made her body respond in the most basic maternal way. She’d felt the slight contraction of her breasts and then the letdown of her milk. A preparation for nursing.

A normal response…as if she’d been looking at the face of her own son.

“HELL,” Ryan grumbled.

From the top of the stairs, he watched Delaney Nash race out the front door. Even in heels and a skirt, she was fast. Not exactly the behavior of a lying, scheming woman who had extortion or other unsavory acts on her mind. In fact, it seemed as if his accusations had genuinely upset her.

And that upset him.

Despite his cutthroat reputation and “iceman” moniker that his business cohorts had dubbed him with, he didn’t get off by hurting people.

Cursing himself and her visit, Ryan barreled down the stairs after her. He didn’t know whether to hope she’d already driven away, or that she was still there.

Fate settled it for him.

She was still there.

Delaney had made it back to her car, which was parked under the portico of the circular driveway. She was definitely trying to leave, but her car wasn’t cooperating. With each turn of the key, the engine made a clicking moan. A dead battery maybe.

She tried again. And again. Before she finally smacked her hand, hard, against the steering wheel. Her shoulders slumped, and her head dropped back onto the headrest of the seat. Then she glanced up at the ceiling as if begging for divine assistance.

Ryan walked down the flagstone steps. He knew his movement had drawn her attention because her eyes flew in his direction. For a split second he saw her sheer frustration before she replaced it with a scowl.

He deserved that scowl.

Ryan went to the driver’s side of her vehicle, and when she didn’t open the door, he reached for the handle. She in turn reached for the lock, but he was slightly quicker than she was. Before she could lock him out, he eased open the door and faced a seriously riled woman.

“You know, most people would have gotten mad and called me a name or two if I’d accused them of attempted extortion,” he commented.

Her scowl got worse. “Believe me, I considered a little name-calling.”

“It’s not too late.” He suppressed a wince when lightning zigzagged across the sky. The thunder followed, so loud that it vibrated the roof of the portico. “A lot of people go for jackass, but it’s a little overused. How about SOB? It’s short and to the point.”

She stared at him. “If you’re trying to be funny, or charming, you’re failing.”

“What I’m trying to do…” He had to stop because he had no idea what the heck he was trying to do. Yes, he did owe her a semiapology, but he was going beyond that. He was now somewhere in the uncomfortable realm of attempting to soothe her ruffled feathers.

But she was right.

He was failing.

Huffing, he looked at his household manager, Lena, who was standing in the gaping doorway of the estate. “Have a car brought to the front,” Ryan instructed. And because of the storm, he really hated this next part, but after what he’d just put his visitor through, it was something he felt he had to do. “I’ll drive Ms. Nash home.”

“No, thanks,” he heard Delaney say. “I’ll call a taxi.” Her statement wasn’t a suggestion.

Ryan reached across her and placed his hand over hers when she went for the phone nestled between the seats. Not the brightest move he’d ever made. The close confines of the car were, well, close.

Her breath met his.

And Ryan took in more of her than he’d intended. Nothing minty fresh but surprisingly appealing. There it was again. Attraction.

No, wait.

Lust.

He preferred that term. Good old basic lust. It kept things on a purely physical level.

“We’re over twenty miles from San Antonio,” he explained. “On a country road, no less. It’s dark and storming. It’ll take a taxi a half hour or more just to get here. I could have you home by then.”

He waited for her to debate that.

He also pulled back his hand, and the rest of his body, since being so close really didn’t seem like a good idea. Even if it sort of felt right.

Strange.

Why did he have this sudden need to comfort the woman? All she’d done was bring turmoil to his life.

As if he needed more.

Ryan didn’t believe her speculation about what had gone on at the fertility clinic. Not that he thought she’d made up the whole thing. No, she was experiencing too much distress for that. The person he doubted was this Dr. Keyes, and before the night was over, Ryan would find out any- and everything he could about the man.

“Well?” Ryan pressed when one of the servants drove a car beneath the portico and parked directly behind Delaney. “You can have a ride, or you can wait. Your choice. My advice is to put aside your resentment and take the ride. That way, you can get home to your son as soon as possible.”

That defused the argument he saw in all those shades of green in her eyes, and for the first time since he’d made the offer to take her home, Ryan knew she truly was considering it.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

And then she looked directly at him and repeated the words in a sincere voice.