Daddy's Double Due Date

Chapter Two

“What was going on between you and Hunter Morgan?”

Ashley’s fingers tightened around the envelope she had sealed. She glanced up to find her boss leaning against her office door frame, his gaze watchful.

What she wouldn’t give to wring the neck of the man who had caused her current predicament—the assistant district attorney in question. Of course, she would have to get a stepladder to reach that high, but the very thought of doing just that helped her remain calm. She even managed an almost genuine smile. “Mr. Morgan mistakenly thought he might have left a file here last Friday when you two met to discuss the Smither’s case.”

Her boss scratched his chin, his expression skeptical. “Is that all? I could have sworn you two were arguing.”

“Arguing? Us? No. He mentioned that new restaurant over by the courthouse and asked if I could recommend something. Only he didn’t like my idea of soup and salad bar.” Ashley chastised herself for coming up with such a lame excuse. Every attorney and secretary within walking distance had already made the new café a lunchtime habit. She even went once a week. But she hadn’t seen the prosecutor there and could only hope the same held true for her boss.

Mr. Williams didn’t look as if he believed her, and Ashley decided she had better leave before he asked anything else. Not that she would be able to answer. The lie she’d just told stuck in her throat like a runaway peppermint lodged sideways, one more thing she blamed on Hunter Morgan.

Ashley pushed to her feet and retrieved her coat. “If you don’t need anything else, I’ll be going home,” she said, lifting her purse and making her way past her boss.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She wanted nothing more than to run, but forced herself to turn back. “What’s that?”

He lifted a stack of envelopes from the corner of her desk and handed them to her. “The mail.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Sticking the outgoing mail under her arm, Ashley hurried down the hall and around the corner. She needed to get away before her remaining composure shattered.

Steps sounded behind her as she reached the front door. “Let me remind you of our confidentiality policy. Getting involved with Hunter Morgan or anyone from another law firm would be a breach of office policy and reason for immediate dismissal.”

Ashley drew a steadying breath and faced him. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’ve never seen Mr. Morgan outside this office.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” With that Williams spun and marched toward his office.

When he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, Ashley leaned against the door for support. As much as she hated facing Hunter Morgan, it couldn’t be put off. Another unexpected visit like today’s and she might lose her job.

Already two hours late for their meeting, Ashley hurried outside into the drizzling rain. Enclosed in darkness, she skirted the deepest puddles as she crossed the parking lot where a lone streetlight cast enough glow for her to unlock her compact car. Hunter Morgan had probably given up hours earlier. But this couldn’t wait. If she could find his home number in the phone book, she would call him and put an end to any notions he had of being a father to her child.

Pulling from the lot, she couldn’t help but wonder about his plans. Not that she wanted any part of them…or him for that matter. Been there. Done that. After six years of marriage during which she’d been unable to conceive, including one in vitro attempt, her husband had divorced her for the secretary he’d gotten pregnant. This same man who’d sworn to uphold justice had used his connection with the judge to make sure Ashley left town with only a small settlement, custody of her frozen ovum, and not much of her heart or pride left intact.

Since moving to Hale, she’d found a job and wanted to make a new life for herself and maybe one day a child. Now, having been added to the firm’s health insurance, she had decided the time was right. Her eggs weren’t getting any younger, and neither was she. The first installment of the meager divorce settlement had been enough to have her eggs fertilized with donor sperm and implanted. Unless her financial status changed drastically, this could well be her last chance.

She cupped one palm over her infant, safe and sound inside her still-flat stomach. No one—neither man nor lawyer—would take advantage of her again. She had let it happen once.

Now a child was involved. An innocent baby. Her baby.

If Hunter Morgan wanted a fight, she would give him one.

“You’re two hours late,” Hunter snapped, cursing himself the minute he growled the accusation.

With a startled gasp, Ashley looked up. Her hand gripped the apartment railing as if to steady herself. She frowned, then continued climbing the few remaining steps to the second floor landing.

“Good to see you, too,” she said, moving toward her door. “Sorry I’m late. Mr. Williams didn’t mention until after five o’clock that he needed me to stay to get something out. I tried calling your office as soon as I knew, but no one answered.”

Hunter wasn’t sure he believed her. She’d made it perfectly clear she didn’t want to be around him. Not that he could blame her. At their meeting this afternoon he had all but threatened her, treated her as if she were no better than the accused felons he dealt with. Afterward, he had felt lower than a snake and had promised himself he would remember she was a woman—a pregnant woman. A pregnant woman carrying his child. That meant he had to get a firm hold on his temper and treat her like a lady. If their exchange thus far was any indication, he had forgotten how to do both.

Pushing off the steps where he had waited the past two hours, Hunter held out a sack containing two cold cheese-burgers and fries. “I came on kind of strong this afternoon and brought a peace offering,” he said, giving her what he hoped was a sincere smile. It had been so long since he’d had a reason to grin, the movement seemed rusty, forced, and totally wrong. It probably looked as dumb as it felt.

She walked toward her apartment and revealed her surprise at his token apology only in the slight widening of her brown eyes lined with dark smudges of fatigue.

Knowing what he had to do didn’t make him feel any better. Going up against a criminal represented by legal counsel was something Hunter did every day, something at which he excelled, something he loved. But taking on a slip of a woman didn’t sit well with him. And something about this particular woman bothered him more than it should. It had to be her innocent vulnerability. Or maybe the way she had placed her hand over her stomach as if to protect his child…from him.

Her attempt to keep him from his child—same as his father had done fifteen years ago by forcing him to sign relinquishment papers—had frustrated him. But her gesture to safeguard their baby had also endeared her to him, making him question whether suing for custody was really best.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

She shook her head, wariness clearly visible in the way her hand trembled as she tried to put her key in the lock. “No, I came straight from work.”

“I know it’s late, but I’d like to resolve this tonight.”

After her two unsuccessful attempts to open the door, Hunter reached over her shoulder. Her cold fingers convulsed beneath his, but she finally surrendered her keys.

Hunter unlocked and opened the door, already worrying about how she would respond to his demands. He didn’t want to upset her but couldn’t stand the pain of losing another child.

The chronic self-doubts that had plagued him since meeting Ashley earlier that day made no more sense than the other things he had observed about her. Things he had no business noticing. She wasn’t a criminal, and he wasn’t acting in an official capacity. She was only a woman who had become a victim of circumstance. And he was only a man. Maybe that was the problem. When had he last been Hunter Morgan, the man and not the assistant district attorney? When had he last been with a woman who smelled so good, someone who made him realize how long it had been? Obviously, too damned long.

Ashley stepped inside and flipped on the light. “Come in.”

In the cramped entryway a miniature flute-shaped vase filled with tiny pink flowers sat on a small half-moon table. Prim and proper. Delicate. Like the woman.

He noticed the way she arched her back as if easing the kinks from sitting long hours at a computer. “You look beat.”

“I am, but I don’t want to put this off.”

“I won’t take long, maybe thirty minutes. I’ll heat the burgers and we’ll talk while you eat.” He refused to acknowledge the connection he’d felt with her when she’d earlier tried to guard his child. He hadn’t felt anything like that…ever. He tried to push the thought from his mind. Thinking about it might convince him to go away, leave her in peace, forget he was going to be a father, something he couldn’t do. He dreaded what he was about to say to her, because it would be irrefutable evidence that he truly was the ruthless bastard everyone believed.

She tried to hide a yawn behind her hand, then glanced once more at the sack. “We were so busy, I didn’t get lunch either and, even cold, food of any kind sounds beyond great. Thank you, Mr. Morgan, for bringing dinner.”

“Hunter,” he said. “Call me Hunter.”

Ashley studied his face a long moment as if trying to read him. “All right, Hunter. Let’s eat. You can have your say, then I’ve got something I need to tell you.”

Her willingness, even eagerness to talk, came as a surprise. He would do his best to get this over with fast, because she looked as if she was about to collapse. He might be hard-nosed, but he wasn’t totally without feelings. Odd that it should be this woman who reminded him of that.

Her obvious exhaustion made him wonder if maybe he should let her off the hook tonight and reschedule their meeting. But something he couldn’t grasp pushed him to settle things. If he didn’t know better, he would think it was fear. Fear that even though he had legal rights, she would turn this into a nasty, prolonged custody battle that would keep him from his child. Fear that she might disappear without a trace or miscarry as had happened before.

Ashley directed him to a too-small kitchen decorated with bright sunflowers while she pulled her arms from her coat and tossed it over a chair. “How much do I owe you for dinner?”

He found the microwave in a corner and popped the bag and all inside. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ashley dug in her purse, then stuffed a five-dollar bill into his jacket pocket. “That should cover it.” She turned on her heel and opened an overhead cabinet.

When she stretched on tiptoe to reach the glasses, Hunter moved behind her. “Here, let me get those for you.”

She spun around and pressed against him in all the wrong places. Damned if it didn’t feel right.

He lowered his arms on either side of her, watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest as he settled the glasses on the counter behind her. Her scent, a unique blend of sensuality and wholesomeness, swirled around him. She smelled damned good.

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him with luminous eyes which mirrored her perception and wariness.

Realizing she had said something, he asked, “What?”

“The microwave,” she said, her voice unsteady, little more than a whisper. When he continued to stare at her, she pointed behind him. “It dinged.”

“Yes, I heard it.” He hadn’t, but wasn’t about to tell her. In fact, he had been so engrossed in her mouth Hunter doubted he would have heard the civil defense sirens. With one last glance at her enticing lips, he forced himself to step away.

“I hope water is okay,” Ashley said. Without waiting for his answer, she opened the refrigerator and leaned forward to fill two glasses from a plastic jug.

“Water’s fine.” He tried to ignore the way her skirt hugged her slender hips and backside, but failed. Miserably. Yes, he needed water. Lots of water to put out the still-smoldering flames of desire she had ignited earlier when he’d held her in his arms. Again he wondered what it was that attracted him to this particular woman? What aroused him, had him acting like an awkward teenager on his first date? Hell, she wasn’t even his type. At six feet two inches, he preferred tall, leggy blondes who reached his shoulders. Ashley didn’t come close. And her hair was auburn, not blond. Not that it mattered.

Her shoulder-length hair and wraithlike stature had nothing to do with why he had waited two hours on the steps, sheltered from the pouring rain. He had come for one reason—to claim his child. It was time he put his libido under lock and key and got down to business. Too much was at stake to be distracted by a pretty face. Yeah, Ashley Morgen was pretty, more than pretty. He’d spent a lot of time with beautiful women, but he had no idea what to do with one pregnant with his baby.

Calling on every ounce of discipline, he withdrew the sack from the microwave and followed Ashley to a flowered couch in a cracker-box living room that fit her perfectly. It made him feel clumsy and out of place.

When she arched her back again, he asked, “Rough day?”

“You could say that,” she muttered, putting their drinks on the coffee table. “My boss suspects something is going on between you and me. When I tried to leave, he reminded me having anything to do with you is a breach of confidentiality. He’s right, you know.”

“It’s only a breach if we talk about cases. Since that’s not why I came, there’s no problem. If you’re concerned about appearances, we could go somewhere else.”

“No. I can’t afford for us to be seen together at night.”

He fought the urge to smile, knowing it would probably earn him another of her frowns. “Because people would assume we were seeing each other.”

“Exactly,” she said, eyes flashing. “And I’d be fired.”

“Not unless Williams can prove you divulged client secrets.”

“You’re a defense firm’s sworn enemy.”

Hunter grimaced as he dug a burger from the sack and put it on the paper plate she handed him. “Enemy, huh?” If only he could see her as his enemy. Maybe then he would stop noticing things about her, things like the way her whiskey-colored eyes reflected her every thought, her every emotion. Somehow the idea of spending time with her didn’t seem all that wrong to him.

She bit into a fry, closed her eyes and moaned, then licked the salt from her lips. “I didn’t realize I was this hungry.”

Tearing his gaze from her mouth, Hunter’s thoughts scattered as he stared at the contours of one shapely leg revealed below the hem of her navy blue skirt. “You can’t worry about what other people think,” he said. “Once word gets out you’re having my baby, everyone will assume…”

“Assume?” she asked, watching him intently.

“That we’ve been lovers,” he said, wondering why he found the thought of them making love so intriguing.

She stopped in midchew. “That’s absurd.”

He did smile then. It was her panicked expression. “Is it? How do you intend to convince the entire town that we didn’t—That we haven’t—”

“No one is going to know who fathered my baby.” She settled her plate on the coffee table and turned to face him. “I called the clinic after your visit today. They refused to identify the sperm donor. So, you can see how futile it would be to continue to claim that you’re the father.”

Hunter withdrew the lone page from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her. “The clinic manager called me after discovering how the mix-up occurred. It seems the initial collection container is labeled with a computer-generated number. But afterward, when the sperm goes to the lab techs for storage, they are responsible for transferring the identifying numbers onto the individual vials. One of their lab techs transposed two numbers. Since they must sign off on every step of the entire process, they were able to identify which worker did it. I’ve been assured that he has been fired.”

“I don’t understand why they didn’t tell me all this.”

“Initially, I imagine they were scrambling to discover how this all happened. When the clinic manager called me to explain what they’d found, I told her I was on my way to see you and would tell you myself. She may call you anyway to cover the clinic in case you decide to bring charges.”

“Are you going to sue?”

He had intended to, but now he wasn’t sure about a lot of things, including why he suddenly felt suing for custody wasn’t best. “I haven’t decided. The clinic has implemented a new system where they will print additional labels to remain with the initial collection and be used on the storage vials.”

“I’m glad they took steps to keep it from happening again.” Ashley unfolded the paper and read, pausing once to glance at him. “Where did you get this?”

He heard the tremor in her voice and knew how difficult this had to be for her. Still, this was his child, too. “I took it from your chart yesterday. I figured you would demand proof.”

She looked once more from him to the single sheet and back again, visibly shaken. “Then it’s true.” She swallowed hard. “You really are my baby’s…my baby’s…”

“Father,” he said, wishing she would say the word.

Dropping the paper, Ashley rose and crossed to a set of double doors opening onto a balcony.

Hunter retrieved the sheet and tucked it inside his pocket before following her outside into the crisp March night. She stood at the railing, rubbing her arms. The rain had finally stopped. The air smelled fresh and clean as it cloaked them in a bone-chilling dampness, and Hunter found himself wanting to hold her. “Should you be outside in the cold?”

When she didn’t respond, he took her hand and turned her. “I’m sure what you’re imagining is horrible. I’m not entirely heartless, despite popular opinion.”

She lifted her eyes to meet his. The heartache and fear he saw there made him long to pull her in his arms and protect her. Which was stupid, because he would be shielding her from himself.

“This morning you mentioned wanting custody.”

He knew he had, but now found himself unable to bear the thought of hurting her. “Yes, but I’ve had a chance to think since then and wondered if we might reach a compromise. I want to help raise this child, Ashley. I would be willing to give you money each month to help out.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, stepping back, away from his touch.

“Hear me out,” he said, holding up a hand.

He tried to gauge her reaction to what he had said so far. She didn’t say anything more, but didn’t move either, so he took that as a good sign. “Joint custody.”

Ashley crossed her arms over her midsection in a defensive gesture, the same way she had done earlier. “No.”

He doubted her spine could get any more rigid and hated upsetting her like this. Still, he couldn’t back down. “The baby would live with you for six months and with me six.”

“No.” Her eyes bore into him. “I won’t give up my child.”

The tremor in Ashley’s voice revealed her slipping control, and he hated himself for what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the child he had lost. “I’m not asking you to give up the child exactly. I want to spend time with my baby. I want a chance to be a father.”

She lifted her chin in a defiant gesture. “I’ll tell the baby about you when it’s older.”

“When would that be?”

“I don’t know. Later.” She watched Hunter as if trying to read him, but he schooled his features, unwilling to let her see how much she affected him.

Before she had miscarried, the mother of his first child had been coerced by their parents into deciding it would be best to give the baby up for adoption. Yet Ashley stood firm, ready to fight to protect her child. Their child.

“Can’t you understand? This baby means more to me than anything. I’m sorry, Hunter, but I can’t do what you’re asking.”

“Can’t or won’t?” He didn’t understand the sudden heaviness in his chest or his need to touch her, comfort her. When he saw her shiver, he moved closer to encourage Ashley back through the double doors. With his hand at her spine, he steered her to the sofa. What he really wanted was to pull her into his arms and hold her, and that didn’t make any sense. “I didn’t come here to argue or upset you. Being a single woman, I’m sure you realize having a child will be financially draining. I want to make it easier on you. I’m offering to help.”

“I’m not stupid, Hunter. You and I both know you’re not thinking of me. You want to buy this child, but you can’t,” she said, lowering herself onto the couch. “I won’t let you.”

“Why? Isn’t that exactly what you did?”

She flinched.

Hunter cursed himself.

“It isn’t the same,” she said, jutting her chin out, “and you know it. These are precisely the kind of problems I had hoped to avoid by requesting an anonymous donor.”