Chapter 3 3

His heart slammed into his chest as he bent to pick up a doll. He rubbed his thumb over the belly, the little gingham dress, and tried to imagine his child playing with it.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"She's sleeping."

He met her gaze. "I want to see her."

"I'm not waking her to see a stranger, Stefan."

"I'm not a stranger."

"But to her you are."

"I won't wake her up. I just want to look at her."

"In a few minutes, okay?"

As long as she knew he wasn't leaving without a look at his baby. "So what did you tell your parents?"

"Nothing more than they needed to know." And once Juliana arrived they were the grandparents any child could hope for.

His temper quick-started like an engine. "Dammit. So they think I'm some sort of jerk that would let their daughter have a baby without helping?"

"No. They don't think that. They understood."

In truth, her father had been the hardest to handle, and given a moment of free rein, Dad would have turned over mountains to find Stefan, punched his lights out, then make him marry her. Which was the last thing Alana wanted.

She didn't want a husband because of a child. But Stefan was honorable, a real hero type, and though he hadn't gotten to it, Alana suspected there was a bigger battle coming.

He folded his arms over his chest and widened his stance. "So, enlighten me. How did this happen?"

She sent him an innocent blinking look. "Gee, sailor, think maybe we forgot protection one of those times?"

"Don't get cute. That I figured. It happens. I was as willing as you were. I have no regrets." He arched a brow, the question unsaid.

She felt the heat of that night spin through her and light her from the inside out. She could almost fall into his arms again if he wasn't looking at her like a new target to assault. "Neither do I, Stefan."

His stance softened. "Then if you accept that, why couldn't you accept that I would want to know, to help?"

"Other than I couldn't contact you," she reminded him. "I didn't need it."

"And that makes it right?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

She moved to the kitchen and started preparing a pot of coffee. Maybe by giving up on hunting him down she thought she was doing him a favor. A man like him, with a dangerous job, he didn't need to be worrying about her and a child when he was supposed to be concentrating on keeping his head down and staying alive. Just the thought of him being distracted by her when he was in the line of fire gave her nightmares. Then she just got used to thinking alone, doing alone. But all she'd wanted then, when she was round with his baby and wondering what he'd think, was to hear his voice.

Stefan followed her and said, "What about what I needed, Alana?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "And you needed a daughter?"

"How the heck should I know? I've never had one. And if it was up to you, I never would have known about her."

Alana glanced toward the hallway. "Keep your voice down." She flipped the switch on the coffee-maker.

Stefan moved to her, gripped her arms and stared down at her. "Talk to me, Alana."

He was hurt, she could see. More deeply than she'd thought.

"You kept my baby from me," he went on. "That's not easily forgivable."

"I did what I had to do, with the resources I had. You were unreachable. They wouldn't even tell me if you were in this country."

He hadn't been, but he couldn't tell her that. "Did you even once think of me?"

She blinked, hurt and insulted, and pushed off his touch, stepping back.

"How can you say that? I had your baby growing inside me, Stefan. All I thought about was you. When I was screaming in pain delivering her, I thought about you and I wanted to beat you senseless, by the way."

She looked down, her throat tight. She'd been angry with him then, she remembered. Angry because he wasn't there to see his daughter being born, that he wasn't there sharing the responsibility thrust on her. But he was off on missions, being the hero, a higher purpose maybe, she'd finally reasoned. And she'd just…accepted. Oh, she knew she should have never let this man touch her. Not because of Juliana, but because his touch left an imprint that went clear down to her soul.

"If I'd known, I would have let you."

"I know, but it is no big deal. I knew that the first chance Emily blabbed, you'd be here."

"And now that I am, we're getting married."

"Oh, so now it's ride-to-the-rescue? Do I look like a damsel in distress?"

"You look like the mother of my child, and that child needs my name."

"Mine's been doing quiet well for me for twenty-nine years. It's good enough for her."

"Why are you being so stubborn?"

"I don't want a husband who would marry me for the sake of a child."

"Why? Is that so archaic to you?"

"Yes."

And it's full of doubts to start with, she thought. She couldn't go through life, through a marriage, with him, a man she barely knew. And she didn't want to live with the constant uncertainty of does he want me for myself, or me because I'm the mother of his child? Or because it's the right and honorable thing to do? And Stefan was up to his eyeballs in honor and duty.

Stefan let her go, dragging his hand over his head, then his face. "You are about the strangest woman I know."

"Isn't that why we jumped into bed in the first place? Because I wasn't falling all over you like the other women?"

"No, it's not, and if you can't see that, then it's probably good that I wasn't around when you learned you were pregnant with my child."

"Why?"

"Because I would have made certain you knew the truth of my feelings for you, Alana."

"You don't love me, Stefan, so don't say it."

"I won't. It's not true."

Her heart fractured. Well, that was honest, anyway.

''But whatever it is I feel for you is strong enough that thoughts of you have been dogging me for months." He headed to the hallway and Alana was still reeling in reaction to that.