He was every bit the rough-and-ready Texas cowboy tonight

Just over six feet tall. Long and lean. Intense and imposing. With a fierce don’t-mess-with-me demeanor. He was the kind of man who could stop a heart in midbeat. Or send one racing.

He seemed to be doing both on Kylie right now.

The past three years had obviously been hard on him. She could see the stress etched on his rugged, naturally tanned face and in the depth of his eyes. Stress that she was responsible for.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” Lucas mumbled in a rough whisper.

She knew what he meant. He had to come inside, look around. He’d need to put that on the report. Lucas wouldn’t want anyone to question his procedure or accuse him of cutting corners because of the bad blood between them. But he also wanted to do this as quickly as possible so he could get the heck out of there.

Something she totally understood.

Secret Surrogate

Delores Fossen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Mickey, Stacy, Selena, Scott,

Trent, Miranda and Hunter

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Imagine a family tree that includes Texas cowboys, Choctaw and Cherokee Indians, a Louisiana pirate and a Scottish rebel who battled side by side with William Wallace. With ancestors like that, it’s easy to understand why Texas author and former air force captain Delores Fossen feels as if she was genetically predisposed to writing romances. Along the way to fulfilling her DNA destiny, Delores married an air force top gun who just happens to be of Viking descent. With all those romantic bases covered, she doesn’t have to look too far for inspiration.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Kylie Monroe—She has no idea that her surrogacy will put hers and Lucas’s lives—not to mention their hearts—at risk.

Sheriff Lucas Creed—Since his wife’s brutal murder, he’s vowed never to love again. But with Kylie carrying his child, he’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep her and the baby safe. Now he has to figure out a way to safeguard his heart, as well.

Cordelia Landrum—She blames Kylie for her sister’s death, but does Cordelia also want Kylie permanently out of the picture?

Kendrick Windham—The director of the surrogacy clinic who holds Kylie and Lucas responsible for an impending investigation of suspicious business practices.

Dr. Finn McGrath—Lucas’s best friend. Or is he?

Isaac Dupont—To keep his unscrupulous activities from coming to light, would this ruthless attorney resort to murdering Kylie, Lucas and their unborn child?

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter One

Fall Creek, Texas

Kylie Monroe tightened her grip on the .357 Magnum and kept her index finger on the trigger.

She waited in the dark. Deep in the corner where she hoped the shadows hid her.

Listening.

Praying.

Mercy, was she ever praying.

Maybe those footsteps that she’d heard outside belonged to one of the deputies from the Fall Creek Sheriff’s Office. Heck, she was even hoping it was a neighbor who’d dropped by. Fat chance of that, though. Her nearest neighbor was nearly two miles away, and it was close to midnight. Hardly the time for visitors.

Besides, she’d seen no car lights. No sound of an engine. Or any other indication that whoever was out there had neighborly intentions. The footsteps likely belonged to the shadowy figures she’d seen in the woods on the east side of her property.

She made a quick check of the clock on the mantel. Sweet heaven. Where was the deputy? She’d made that 911 call well over a half hour ago.

Of course, it seemed more like an eternity.

Because her legs were trembling, Kylie leaned against the wall of the tiny foyer and tried not to make a sound. That included humming. Several times, she’d caught herself humming a little louder than was probably safe. Of course, maybe no sound was safe right now.

The baby she carried inside her kicked and squirmed as if he or she knew something was terribly wrong. That didn’t surprise her. After all, her entire body was tense—every muscle knotted, her breath thin.

It only got worse when she heard another sound that she’d anticipated.

And dreaded.

There was a sharp groan of wood. No doubt from one of the creaky floorboards on the porch. Someone was just outside her door. Mere inches away.

Her heartbeat began to race out of control, but she tried to stay calm. For the sake of the baby. And for her own sake. So she could respond accordingly.

Unfortunately, respond accordingly might mean she’d have to use deadly force.

She was a trained law enforcement officer, Kylie reminded herself. Except she hadn’t carried a badge or even held a gun for nearly three years. Maybe she wouldn’t even remember her firearms’ training. But it didn’t matter. She would do whatever it took to protect the baby and herself.

“Kylie?” a man called out. “It’s me—Lucas Creed.”

Oh, mercy.

That didn’t do much to steady her heart rate or her breathing.

However, Kylie did lower her gun, and she eased her finger off the trigger. Sheriff Lucas Creed wasn’t exactly the threat her body had prepared itself for.

But he was a threat of a totally different kind.

“I didn’t hear you drive up,” she informed him.

Lucas didn’t answer right away, but she thought she heard him mumble something. A not-so-pleased kind of mumbling. One she understood. Because, after all, her comment probably had seemed like some kind of accusation.

“I parked at the end of the road,” he responded. “You told the dispatcher you thought there might be trespassers on your property. I looked around. Didn’t see anyone.”

That was the good news.

The bad news was that Lucas Creed was standing on her porch.

Kylie eased her gun onto the foyer table and inched closer to the door until her ear was pressed right against it. “I asked the dispatcher to send out a deputy.” She tried to keep her voice level. Failed miserably. She had to clear her throat and repeat it so that it was more than an incoherent squeaky grumble.

Another pause. A long one. “One of my deputies is transferring a prisoner to Houston. He won’t be back till morning. The other’s out sick with the flu. I was the only one on call.”

Ah. So that explained it. Lucas had no choice but to respond to her 911. That meant he wasn’t any happier about this late-night visit than she was. No surprise there.

He despised her.

Worse, he had a reason to despise her.

“You plan to open the door and tell me what this is all about?” Lucas demanded.

That sent her pulse pounding. If she refused to let him in, it would make him suspicious. If she did comply, the same might happen.

And the one thing she didn’t want was Lucas getting suspicious.

“You know the drill,” he continued, sounding even more impatient. “I have to do a visual check to make sure you’re not being held against your will.”

Yes. It was standard procedure. Something Lucas wouldn’t violate. Even if she was absolutely the last person on Earth he wanted to see.

Kylie glanced down at her stomach. The darkness hid a lot of things but not the second trimester tummy bulge. Almost frantically, she loosened the tie of her flannel robe and fluffed up the fabric. It helped. Well, hopefully it did. Just in case, though, she angled her body behind the door when she opened it.

And she came face-to-face with a man who’d sworn never to see her again.

“Lucas,” she said, her throat closing up.

He didn’t acknowledge her greeting and didn’t make eye contact with her. Instead, he kept a firm grip on his lethal-looking Glock and swept an equally lethal-looking gaze around the yard.

“Is your porch light working?” he asked.

He didn’t say it as if it were a request, either. More like procedure. He had to make sure she wasn’t injured. Or that someone wasn’t lurking behind her, threatening her. To do that, he needed light.

Kylie reached over, hesitantly, and flicked the light switch on. If she thought it was tough to cope with Lucas in the dark, it was nothing compared to being able to see him.

He was every bit the rough-and-ready Texas cowboy tonight.

Just over six feet tall. Long and lean. Intense and imposing, with a fierce don’t-mess-with-me demeanor. He was the kind of man who could stop a heart in midbeat. Or send one racing.

He seemed to be doing both to her right now.

The past three years had been hard on him. She could see the stress etched on his rugged, naturally tanned face and in the depths of his eyes. Stress that she was responsible for.

Okay. That made her ache. Made her feel guilty. Worse, it made her want to do something to ease what he was going through. She wanted to reach out to him, to tell him how sorry she was. For everything. But Kylie knew Lucas wouldn’t appreciate the gesture or the words. And while they might make her feel marginally better, gestures and words wouldn’t do anything to help him.

The wind howled, stirring through his slightly-too-long mahogany-brown hair. His firm jaw muscles stirred, too. Moving against each other, as if he were in the middle of a battle about what to say.

Or, more likely, what not to say.

“Don’t make this any harder than it already is,” he mumbled in a rough whisper.

She knew what he meant. He had to come inside, look around. He’d need to put that on the report. Especially this report. Lucas wouldn’t want anyone to question his procedure or accuse him of cutting corners because of the bad blood between them. But he also wanted to do this as quickly as possible so he could get the heck out of there.

Something she totally understood.

Kylie moved back, still using the door as cover. Lucas didn’t say a word. He stepped inside, bringing with him the scents of his well-worn buckskin jacket, the winter frost and the fragrant cedars that he’d no doubt brushed up against to get to her house. His unique scent was there, as well. Something dark and masculine. Something that reminded her that she was a woman.

Oh, no.

That little mental realization shocked her. All right, more than shocked her. It stunned her. Because it had been a long time—years, in fact—since she’d been aware of something like that. This was obviously some by-product of pregnancy hormones. Yes, that had to be it. Because there was no other option. She couldn’t be physically attracted to the one man on the planet who would never be attracted to her.

Stupid pregnancy hormones.

They didn’t have a clue.

“What happened?” Lucas asked, using his cop’s voice to go with the cop’s surveillance of her living room and foyer. “Why the 911?”

Kylie quickly tried to gather her thoughts. And not the ones set off by the hormones, either. Those she pushed aside, and she got down to business.

“Around 11:30, I went to the kitchen to get a drink of water.” Even though she was trying to hurry this along, she stopped when she heard how shaky her voice was and took a deep breath. This wussiness had to stop. “I looked out the window and saw two men dressed in dark clothes in the woods out near that cluster of hack-berries.”

He nodded. “I saw the fresh tracks. Could be hunters.”

“Could be.” And that’s what Kylie desperately wanted to believe. That the men were deer or rabbit hunters who’d accidentally strayed onto her property. Nothing more. “But they weren’t carrying flashlights, or if they were, they didn’t have them turned on.”

Lucas made a throaty sound of contemplation and walked across the living room. His scarred boots echoed softly on the hardwood floor. “It’s a full moon. Maybe they didn’t need flashlights.”

“Maybe, but they weren’t carrying hunting rifles, and they ducked out of sight when they spotted me at the window.”

While he no doubt processed that, Lucas looked around. At the rough stone fireplace. At her seriously outdated furniture. And at her spartan computer desk tucked between two corner windows. He flexed his eyebrows when he noticed an old-fashioned turntable and the stack of equally old-fashioned Bob Dylan vinyl albums.

Lucas gave a you-still-listen-to-that? grunt and walked on through to the kitchen.

Kylie gave a corresponding yeah-I-do grumble and followed him. She hunched her shoulders, hoping he wouldn’t turn that scrutinizing gaze on her.

“Any idea who the two men might have been?” With his back to her, Lucas bracketed his hands on the multi-colored mosaic-tiled counter near the sink, leaned closer to the window and stared out into the darkness. The gesture looked effortless. Casual, even. But she knew differently. Lucas Creed was a dedicated, thorough lawman. He was examining every inch of the woods.

And every word of her account.

“No. I don’t know.” Kylie shook her head. “I mean, not really. But I had an, uh, appointment in San Antonio late this afternoon. Then, I did some shopping at the mall on the Riverwalk. It was already well past nine o’clock before I started the drive back home, and I thought someone might have followed me. Dark blue car. Nondescript. There was dirt or something on the license plate so I couldn’t see it, but I’m pretty sure there were two men inside.”

Sheesh. No being a wuss that time. But her story did have a tinge of paranoia to it. His deep male sound of reflection made her think that Lucas might feel the same way. Hopefully, he didn’t believe this was some kind of ploy for attention. If she’d been the sort to seek attention—and she wasn’t—she wouldn’t have been seeking it from him.

“Have you gotten any suspicious phone calls lately?” he asked, moving from the sink to the back door.

“No.” She wouldn’t tell him about the eerie feeling, though, that something just wasn’t right. While she trusted her instincts and intuition, she didn’t think Lucas would. He was a man who required proof and facts, and she was seriously short of those.

He turned on the back porch light. While keeping his Glock ready and aimed in his right hand, he opened the door slightly, and eased out a few inches so he could take a look outside. The badge clipped to the waist of his well-worn jeans scraped against the wooden jamb. “You think this might be connected to one of the articles you wrote?”

That improved her posture. Kylie automatically stiffened, and her back went ramrod straight. She hadn’t realized that he knew she was a journalist. But then, why wouldn’t he? She had a degree in journalism and had worked briefly for a San Antonio newspaper before becoming a deputy. She hadn’t exactly kept that a secret.

Unlike other things in her life.

For the past three years since she’d resigned as Lucas’s deputy, she’d yet to step foot inside the city limits of Fall Creek, the town she’d once called home. Instead, she’d moved to the tiny country house where her late grandmother had raised her. Added to that self-imposed isolation, she’d been making trips into San Antonio for anything from groceries to doctor’s appointments. That minimized her chances of running into Lucas. And it’d worked. She hadn’t seen him.

Until tonight.

“The last article I wrote did cause some waves,” Kylie admitted.

“Yeah.” And Lucas let that simple acknowledgment hum between them for several long moments. “The one about illegal and unethical surrogacy activity.”

So, he’d read it. Or at least he was familiar with it. Maybe he was also familiar with the fact that she’d alluded to a powerful San Antonio attorney, Isaac Dupont, and the surrogacy clinic director, Kendrick Windham, who might have participated in those illegal activities.

“I didn’t name names,” Kylie quickly pointed out. Why, she didn’t know. However, she suddenly felt the need to defend herself and her approach to journalism.

“But along with the San Antonio Police Department, hundreds, if not thousands, of readers figured out that you were referring to Isaac Dupont,” Lucas countered just as quickly.

Kylie was sure she blinked. “San Antonio PD? What do you mean?”

He shut the back door and locked it. Then with that same quiet, almost graceful confidence, he strolled toward the laundry room. “On the way over, I made some calls, talked to a friend in SAPD. They might open an investigation based on the info in your article.”

The blood rushed to her head, so fast that she became dizzy. Kylie dropped back a step and pressed her hand to her chest. “I didn’t know.”

“Nothing’s official.” He didn’t even spare her a glance. He continued his investigation by examining the garage just off the laundry room. “Besides, it might not even happen. The police are just looking into it.”

She nodded and tried not to show any emotion. But inside that was an entirely different matter. Oh, mercy. She’d speculated that Isaac Dupont might be up to his lily-white neck in illegal activity, but she hadn’t thought that article would cause him to try to intimidate her.

If that’s what he’d indeed tried to do.

Had he hired those men to follow her? To scare her? If so, it’d worked.

She was scared.

“I’ll have another look around outside,” Lucas said, coming out of the laundry room. He engaged the lock on the door that blocked off the garage from the rest of the house. “If I see anything suspicious, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.” She stepped back, clearing the way so he could go around her. “And thank you for coming.”

It was an automatic, polite response. Something drilled into her by her upbringing. A goodbye meant to get him moving out the door.

It didn’t have quite the intended effect on Lucas.

He stopped, practically in mid-step, and his gaze slid to hers. Those jaw muscles went to work again, and it seemed as if he’d changed his mind a dozen times about what to say. “This is my job.”

A short, efficient, arctic comeback. His version of an automatic response. It was his way of letting her know that even though they were enemies—and sweet heaven, they were enemies—he wouldn’t lower himself to shirking his duties because of her.

“Yes, this is your job,” she acknowledged. “But I don’t think anyone in Fall Creek would have criticized you if you hadn’t come.”

His teeth came together, and the battle began. Not with just his jaw muscles, but with his composure. His eyes. His entire body. “I don’t intend to discuss this with you.”

No. But it was always there. An unspoken conversation. And it always would be, since he would never be able to forgive her for what she’d done.

But then, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself, either.

That didn’t make them even.

She would always owe him. Because of the promise she’d made to a dying woman. Because of the promise she’d made to herself. Kylie would always feel the need to make things right with Lucas.

“If I could undo everything that happened,” she said to him, “I would.”

He turned. An agile shift of his body. His gaze rifled to hers, a little maneuver that robbed her of what breath she’d managed to recoup. There it was, in the depths of his saddle-brown eyes. The accusations.

The pain.

God, the pain.

Lucas combed his hostile gaze over her face, hardly more than a split-second glance. Then he took that methodical scrutinization lower, to her body.

Kylie trembled.

Waited.

She didn’t have to wait too long. Lucas actually did a double take when he noticed her stomach.

Not that it helped, but Kylie adjusted her robe again. Seconds passed slowly, crawling by, until the silence settled uncomfortably around them.

“Are you…” But he obviously couldn’t even finish the question. Instead, he swallowed hard.

Since it would be absurd to lie, Kylie had no choice but to admit the obvious. “Yes. I’m pregnant.”

He fired a few more of those nervy glances around the house. “I didn’t know,” he finally said.

The words were void of any emotion. He’d done a better job of that than she ever could have. Because down deep, below the words, even deeper than his eerily calm demeanor, she figured this discovery had to be killing him.

Or maybe he wasn’t affected at all because, perhaps, he truly didn’t care. Maybe she was a nonentity to him. Nothing more than a 911 call on a frosty January night.

She shook her head, moistened her lips. “Not many people know about the pregnancy.” And because she feared other questions, both those spoken aloud and left unsaid, Kylie went on the offensive. “I doubt those men are still out there. But just in case, I’ll lock all the doors, keep my weapon nearby. I’ll call you if I see anything else suspicious.”

He nodded, turned and headed for the door. Lucas didn’t even look back, which shot to heck her nonentity theory. She wasn’t a nonentity to him, definitely not, because he still hated her.

However, as deep and as potent as that hatred was, Kylie knew that Lucas would hate her even more if he learned the truth—

That the baby she was carrying was his.

Chapter Two

Lucas couldn’t get out of Kylie’s house fast enough. It took every ounce of his willpower not to break into a run, and he was certainly thankful when he made it outside onto the porch.

He immediately pulled in a long, hard breath. Since it was just below freezing and the ice crystals seemed to burn his lungs, it should have cleared his head, as well.

It didn’t.

But then, nothing would.

It didn’t seem…fair.

There. He’d let the thought fully materialize in his head. Yeah, it was petty. Beyond petty, really. It was spiteful. But it put a rock-hard knot in his gut to know that the woman responsible for the deaths of his wife and unborn child was having a child of her own.

What’s wrong with this picture? he wanted to shout to the powers that be.

“Are you okay?” he heard Kylie ask. Definitely not a shout. Practically a whisper.

Lucas laughed. But it wasn’t from humor. Damn the irony of this. And damn the flashbacks and the nightmarish memories of that day when his world had come crashing down around him.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

“Hmm.” She paused. “You know, if I were wearing a BS meter, it’d be going nuts about right now. Because you don’t look fine.”

He shot her a glance over his shoulder to let her know it wasn’t a good time to push this. But then, it was never a good time to push this particular subject.

What he should do was just leave. He should get the heck out of there. Off Kylie’s porch. Off her property. Away from her. Miles away. Unfortunately, his legs wouldn’t cooperate. They’d seemingly turned to dust. So he stood there and pretended to do a routine surveillance of the yard and the surrounding woods.

However, it was anything but routine.

Seeing Kylie again, especially a pregnant Kylie, was like ripping open all the old wounds. Wounds that would never heal. Even though, until tonight, he would have sworn that he was getting on with his life.

And he was.

Well, for the most part.

He would probably never be able to fully recover from the deaths of his wife and unborn baby. Lucas considered that a moment and took out the probably. No full recovery for him. He wasn’t coming back from that.

But he had a future now. Heck, in four and a half months he’d even get to experience fatherhood. Finally.

No thanks to Kylie.

That thanks belonged to the anonymous surrogate he’d hired through an agency in San Antonio. Only because of her would he get a second chance at having a life.

Hugging her faded blue bathrobe tightly to her body, Kylie stepped out on the frost-scabbed porch. She kept a safe distance, but somehow it still felt too close.

“You’re upset because I’m pregnant,” she said.

Leave it to Kylie to lay it all out there. That was one of the things he’d always admired about her—her frankness. Oh, and her honesty. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in the mood for either tonight.

“How am I supposed to feel?” Lucas replied. And he actually hoped she had the answer. Because he was having a heck of a time sorting it all out.

“Confused. Hurt,” she promptly supplied. Her warm breath mixed with the cold air and created a misty haze when she spoke. Against her pale ivory skin, it had an almost otherworldly effect. As if this were all just a dream. He wished to hell it was. “And you’re probably mad at yourself for feeling those things since you’re not a mean-spirited man.”

Lucas scowled. “You’re sure about that last part? Because I don’t think it’s my imagination that I’m feeling a little mean-spirited here.”

The scowl obviously didn’t put her off. The right corner of her mouth temporarily lifted before it eased back down.

“Lucas, you’re stubborn, inflexible and prone to bouts of misguided stoicism. I blame that last part on your cowboy roots. You can’t help yourself.” Kylie shook her head, sending a lock of her honey-blond hair slipping onto her forehead. “But you don’t have the heart to be mean-spirited.”

Probably because it was too close to the truth and because he didn’t want this weird intimacy and understanding between them, Lucas decided to end this little personality evaluation. “You have no idea what’s in my heart.”

“Touché.” Kylie waited a moment while the wind howled around them. She shifted her feet. No shoes. Just a pair of grayed weathered socks that were sagging around her ankles. There was a tiny hole just over her right pinkie. “Still, I’m sorry. Being around me like this can’t be easy for you.”

No.

It never would be.

“The rumor mill in Fall Creek is pretty good,” he said, testing the waters. Why, he didn’t know. Her pregnancy was none of his business.

And he mentally repeated that to himself.

It didn’t help.

He still wanted to know, which made him some kind of sick glutton for punishment.

Her body language changed. Gone was the semi-cocky demeanor that was part of Kylie’s trademark personality, and her shoulders slumped. “I don’t think the rumor mill knew about the baby.”

It didn’t, or the word would have certainly made it back to him. He wished it had, and then he wouldn’t have been blindsided by this 911 call. And it was that 911 aspect of this visit that he needed to concentrate on.

Lucas swept his gaze around the woods. Like the other times, he saw nothing to indicate the hunters, trespassers, or God knows who or what were still around. Maybe he’d scared them off, and if so, that meant his job here was done.

Almost.

“Is there someone you can call to stay with you tonight?” Lucas asked. It was procedure. Something he would have asked of any woman who’d just been frightened enough to phone the sheriff’s office.

“Sure,” she said without hesitation.

Now, it was his turn to pause. He angled his head, stared at her. “If I were wearing a BS meter, it’d be going nuts about right now. You don’t have anyone to call, do you?”

Her chin came up, but that little display of bravado didn’t quite make it to her slightly narrowed indigo-blue eyes. “If you mean my baby’s father, no. He’s not in the picture. But despite what you think of me, I’m not totally friendless. I have people who can come over.”

However, that didn’t mean she would rely on those people. In fact, he was about a hundred percent certain that she’d make no such calls tonight. No. Not the independent, my-way-or-no-way Kylie. Once he was gone, she’d lock the doors, turn out the lights and sit there in the darkness. Holding her gun. All night. Terrified. And completely alone.

Hell.

The image of her doing that brought out all kinds of protective instincts in him. After all, she was pregnant. Out in the middle of the woods.

Where anything could go wrong.

“This isn’t your problem,” Kylie informed him, as if reading his mind. “I’m a big girl. Trust me, I can take care of myself.”

“And that’s the reason you made the 911 call,” Lucas commented.

That earned him another glare. She hiked up her chin again, and she cupped her hands around her mouth. “If anyone is stupid enough to be out there, hear this,” she shouted. “I’m freezing my butt off, and I’m in a really pissy mood. I also have a loaded .357 Magnum that I know how to use. My advice? Go home now!”

With that, Kylie turned toward him, making sure that he understood that the go home now! suggestion applied to him, as well.

She swiped that lock of hair from her forehead. An angry, indignant swipe. With trembling fingers. Her bottom lip started to tremble, as well. That shot some holes in the steely resolve she was trying to project. It also tested yet more of his protective instincts.

Still, that was his cue to end this visit. After all, she’d practically demanded that he leave, and now that he’d checked off all the squares for this official visit, there was no reason for him to stay.

“I’ll be at my house if you need to get in touch with me,” Lucas advised. Not exactly standard procedure, but it was a courtesy he would have extended to anyone in his jurisdiction. “Since there’s no one at the office, don’t call dispatch or 911. Just ring straight through to the house. I can be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks.” It had a definite goodbye kind of tone to it. She turned, her bathrobe swishing like a gunslinger’s duster, and went back inside.

Only after she’d closed the door did Lucas realize that at some point he’d stopped breathing. He slowly released the air from his lungs and forced himself to get moving. No easy feat. He felt raw and drained from their encounter.

He stayed on the narrow gravel and dirt road that led from her house to the highway. Walking fast. Trying not to think.

It didn’t work.

Not that he thought it would.

The cold darkness closed in around him, smothering him, and with it came the flood of memories. Because he had no choice, he stopped and leaned against a sprawling oak. Thankfully, Kylie’s house was no longer in sight, and that meant she wouldn’t be able to see him if he disgraced himself by completely falling apart.

And it certainly felt as if that were about to happen.

The adrenaline and the nausea crashed through him. As if the events of that day were happening now, at this moment, and not three years ago. However, three years wasn’t nearly enough time to diminish all the brutal details that’d stayed with him. Heck, a million years wouldn’t make him forget.

Deputy Kylie Monroe had been on patrol that day when the call came in. A robbery at the convenience store on the edge of town. She’d responded and gone in pursuit of two unidentified armed suspects who were on foot. Even though Kylie had called for backup, she hadn’t waited. Instead, she’d begun a dangerous, unauthorized foot chase through the streets of Fall Creek.

That had set off a deadly chain of events.

One of the robbery suspects must have panicked because he stopped and fired at Kylie. He missed. Well, he missed Kylie, anyway. Instead, he’d hit Lucas’s pregnant wife, Marissa, who at that moment had stepped out of the grocery store.

The one shot had been fatal.

In the blink of an eye, Kylie had lost her best friend. And Lucas had lost his wife and the baby she had been carrying. Marissa had been only two months pregnant, barely enough time for him to come to terms with the concept of fatherhood. And it’d been snatched away.

Everything had been snatched away.

He’d known that the moment he had rounded the corner and had seen his wife lying on the sidewalk. Kylie, kneeling next to her. Marissa, nearly lifeless and bleeding, whispering the last words she’d ever say. Not to him. But to Kylie. Marissa hadn’t been able to say anything to him because she’d died before he could get to her.

Another irony.

Marissa, the woman he loved, hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to him. Yet, the person responsible for her death—Kylie—had been the beneficiary of those final precious seconds of Marissa’s life. Her last breath. Her final words. Lucas hadn’t heard those words firsthand, but in the minutes following Marissa’s death, while Kylie still had his wife’s blood on her hands, Kylie had repeated them like a mantra.

Don’t let my death kill Lucas, Marissa had told Kylie. Look after him. Help him heal. Make sure he’s happy.

Make sure he’s happy.

Right.

As if that could ever happen. Marissa had used her last breath to ask the impossible. Even if Kylie had ever had a desire to fulfill her best friend’s dying wish, he wouldn’t have let her try. There was no way he wanted Kylie Monroe to have any part in his healing.

Lucas couldn’t bear the pain any longer, so he forced himself to think of his future. His baby. Being a father wasn’t a cure-all. It wouldn’t rid him of the gaping hole in his heart. But it would get him moving in the right direction. And he couldn’t wait for that to begin. Four and a half months, and he’d be able to hold his child.

The sound snapped him out his daydream, and Lucas automatically aimed his weapon and turned in the direction of the noise he’d heard.

A soft rustle of leaves, not made by a stir of wind, either. No. This was much more substantial. As if someone were walking through the woods. But not walking in just any direction.

Directly toward Kylie’s house.

That gave him another hefty shot of adrenaline. Not that he needed it. His body had already shifted into combat mode.

Lucas stepped back into the dense underbrush and trees. He started retracing his steps, following the road. Quietly, so that he wouldn’t be detected and so that he could listen.

He didn’t like what he heard.

Definitely footsteps.

Probably not just one set, either. At least two. Both heavy enough to belong to men. Big men.

And that brought him back to the two possible suspects that Kylie had spotted in the woods.

The trespassing duo had apparently returned for round two. But what did they want? Was this simply a case of trespassing, or was it something more?

Did it have to do with that controversial article she’d written? If so, if they’d been sent there to intimidate her, it could turn ugly. Because he knew that Kylie wouldn’t intimidate easily. Even pregnant, she would make a formidable foe.

Lucas eased deeper into the woods as he approached the house. No sign of the men, but the porch light was off again. Maybe because Kylie had also heard them and wanted the shelter of the darkness. If so, that meant she was probably terrified. Worse, she didn’t know he was still outside, still keeping watch.

He stopped at a clearing and tried to pick through the sounds and the scents to determine what he was up against. There was a rattle of motion, the sound of a scuffle. Not good. So, he hurried forward, still searching.

He didn’t have to search long.

The side door to Kylie’s garage flew open. Milky, yellow light speared into the darkness.

So did two armed men. Both were dressed from head to toe in dark clothes and were wearing ski masks.

And they weren’t alone.

They were dragging Kylie out of the house.

Chapter Three

Kylie had no time to react.

The two men came at her—fast. Rushing across the kitchen straight toward her.

Her only warning had been the soft click of her laundry room door. That was it. The lone indication that the two masked armed men had somehow picked the lock and had gotten inside her house.

She turned to run to try to get her gun, which she’d left on the table in the foyer.

She didn’t get far.

One of them latched onto her, using his beefy hand to stop her. He curved his arm like a vise around her neck. Her throat snapped shut, clamping off all but a shallow scream. But that didn’t stop her from reacting.

Her instincts cried out for her to escape. And she tried. She really tried. Kylie rammed her elbow into the man’s muscled stomach. He staggered back, just slightly, but not nearly enough for her to break free of his fierce grip.

Refusing to give up, she pivoted and went for his eyes using the heel of her hand.

It didn’t work.

The man was huge, well over six feet tall and heavily muscled. Literally overpowering her, he grabbed her and shoved her forward into the waiting arms of the other man.

“Remember, don’t hurt her or the kid,” the first guy snarled. “We’re to deliver her safe and sound to the boss. So they can talk.” His gaze slashed to hers. His frosty gray eyes were the only part of him she could see because he was dressed from head to toe in black, including a ski mask. His partner wore a similar outfit. “Well, unless she gives us no choice about that safe and sound part. I’m sure the boss will understand if she doesn’t cooperate.”

Terror and a sickening dread quickly replaced the surge of adrenaline. Oh, God.

They might hurt her baby.

She stopped struggling. But they didn’t stop. Kylie caught just a glimpse of the white cloth before one of the men shoved it against her face.

Chloroform, maybe.

They were obviously trying to knock her out. But at what cost?

She shoved the cloth away. “You said you wouldn’t hurt my baby,” she managed to say.

The man put the cloth right back in place, over her nose. “This stuff won’t hurt you or the kid,” he grumbled. But it wasn’t much reassurance coming from a would-be kidnapper.

If that’s what he was.

Was this a kidnapping? If so, why did they want her?

Kylie didn’t like the first thought that came to mind. Mercy. Was this related to that article she’d written about illegal surrogacy? But it didn’t matter if it were about that. If she didn’t do something, these men would likely succeed in taking her.

Forcing her breathing to stay shallow so the drug wouldn’t incapacitate her, Kylie tried to stay calm. She reminded herself that she had to stay alive and alert for the sake of the baby. It worked. Well, a little. She steadied herself enough so she could glance around the kitchen and laundry room for anything that she could use to escape.

But the men didn’t give her a chance to escape. They got her moving outside into the freezing cold night. Away from her weapon. Away from the phone that she’d hoped to use to call Lucas. They hauled her through the garage and out the side door.

Kylie struggled against the drug-laced cloth and managed to bat it away again. But it was already too late. Everything was becoming hazy, slightly out of focus. It probably wouldn’t be long before she completely lost consciousness.

She closed her eyes and decided to play along with that scenario. It was a long shot, but if her kidnappers thought she’d passed out, maybe they’d let down their guard long enough for her to escape.

Continuing the act, she let her legs and body go limp and would have fallen if her captor hadn’t caught her. As if she weighed nothing, he scooped her up in his arms and kept on walking through the dense woods.

Seconds crawled by.

Each one pounded in cadence with the syrupy pulse drumming in her ears. Kylie fixed the image in her head of Lucas holding his baby, and she used that as motivation to stay awake. She had to stay awake, to survive.

And she would.

For Lucas. For his baby. For the life that he deserved to have and for the life that she’d promised Marissa that she would give him.

She silently cursed the stupid things she’d said to Lucas so that he’d leave. I’m a big girl. Trust me, I can take care of myself.

But she obviously couldn’t.

Not only had she allowed two kidnappers to break into her home, she hadn’t even been armed at the time. Instead, she’d been fighting back tears over Lucas’s visit. Crying instead of grabbing her gun. And that was despite every primitive alarm going off in her head that something wasn’t right. So much for listening to her gut. She’d be lucky to get the baby and herself out of this alive.

She lifted her left eyelid a fraction and saw where they were taking her. In the direction of the lake. Probably to the road that circled it so they could escape. Or else they planned to drown her. But Kylie pushed that frightening thought aside. If they’d wanted her dead, they probably already would have killed her. And they certainly wouldn’t have come prepared to chloroform her.

Of course, she couldn’t rule out that they were taking her to a secondary crime scene, a place where they could finish her off and dispose of her body without leaving any forensic evidence behind.

She added some mental groans to her mental profanity. She couldn’t give in to these what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. If she did, she’d likely die.

Instead, she focused on the lake, on what she knew about it. After all, it was as familiar to her as her own home. It was where she took daily walks and did most of her writing. She figured that the men had parked off the road. If she got a break, one little distraction, she could dive into the water, and, uh…

Probably drown.

Yes. Drown.

Another mental groan. She was already so dizzy that she couldn’t stay focused. Heaven only knew what would happen to her in the water.

Okay. Plan A was discarded. She moved on to Plan B. Too bad she couldn’t think of one. Sweet heaven, her head was spinning and she felt on the verge of throwing up. Still, she fought through that haze and forced herself to think. She had to come up with something.

The thudding noise and the howl of pain jarred open her eyes. Not that she could see much. But she was able to determine that the other man was no longer in front of them. He was on the ground, writhing and groaning.

“What the hell?” the one holding her growled, a split second before he let go of her.

Kylie managed to protect her stomach and break the fall with her hands. She immediately got to her knees so that she could get away and scurried behind a tree. It wasn’t easy but, dragging her way through the underbrush and soggy dead leaves, she somehow got there. It took her a few seconds to realize that her captor wasn’t coming after her.

It took a few more to realize why.

One of the men was still on the ground. And he was the one who was moaning and holding on to his leg. However, the other guy aimed his gun at a shadowy figure that appeared between two trees.

Lucas.

He’d come back.

“Lucas!” she called out to warn him. It wasn’t her best effort. More breath than voice. She sounded drunk and, worse, felt that way, too.

Still, he reacted. Lucas darted to her side just as the guy fired at him. The shot blasted through the woods, clipping a tree and spraying splinters and bark. The sound was deafening and shook her to the core. Not just because it drilled home the danger for herself and the baby, but because Lucas was now in danger, as well.

Oh, God.

And she was responsible for him being here.

If he were hurt, or worse, it would be her fault. Kylie wasn’t sure she could live with that. She’d already caused enough devastation in his life.

Frantically, she searched the ground, looking for anything she could use to defend them. The dizziness and nausea didn’t help. Still, she kept searching, raking aside the leaves, and finally came up with a thick, long tree limb. It wouldn’t be much protection against a semiautomatic, but if she got close enough, she could do some damage.

Well, maybe.

With her focus fading in and out, she probably wouldn’t be much of a threat even if she’d had a loaded gun.

She peeked out from behind the tree. Neither of the kidnappers was anywhere in sight. Great. Just great. They could come at her and Lucas from any direction and, considering that she could only move slowly, she’d be a sitting duck.

“Shhh.” The sound was barely audible, but it was the only warning she got before Kylie felt a rough hand clamp over her mouth.

She automatically struggled, trying to defend herself with the tree branch, but the man—and it was definitely a man—pulled her to him. Right against his solid, rock-hard body. Her face landed against a buckskin coat. A familiar coat.

With an equally familiar scent.

“It’s me,” Lucas whispered. Without making a sound, he eased forward and positioned himself in front of her, using his body as a shield to protect her.

Kylie quietly laid down the branch and checked to make sure he wasn’t injured. Even with the full hunter’s moon, she couldn’t see much. Well, not much except the stalwart, determined expression on Lucas’s face.

Lucas didn’t take his vigilant gaze off their surroundings. He reached over, the fingertips of his left hand skimming over her stomach.

The baby kicked.

Right on the spot where Lucas was touching her.

If Lucas had noticed it, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he readjusted her robe. Putting it back in place. Most likely so that she’d stay warm. In all the chaos, she hadn’t realized that the only thing between her stomach and the cold night air was a thin white cotton gown.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

She hadn’t been injured in the fall, but every muscle in her body was already aching and stiff from the fight and the adrenaline. Then, there was the chloroform or whatever had been on that cloth. It might be hours, or days, before she knew what effect that would have on her. And the baby. Especially the baby.

“I’m okay.”

And she prayed that was true.

Her reassurance didn’t do a thing to ease his vigilance. He kept his Glock aimed and ready. And she knew for a fact that he had a lethal aim. She only hoped that it was enough to get them out of this alive.

Kylie pulled in her breath and waited. She listened carefully, but all she could hear was the wind rattling through the towering oak trees. Reality quickly began to sink in. Yes, Lucas was there, and he was armed. And he was good. But sometimes good just wasn’t good enough.

Frowning, scowling really, Lucas brushed his knuckles over her lips. Barely a touch. Kylie flinched at the contact. However, she welcomed it in a weird, surreal sort of way. Human contact, even if it happened to be from Lucas, felt pretty comforting.

“You’re humming,” he whispered. “Out loud.”

Kylie stopped, considered that. “Am I?” she whispered back.

A crisp nod. “‘Jingle Bells.’”

No surprise there. Humming perky, out-of-season tunes was her way of dealing with stress. And right now, she was dealing with a lot of stress.

“Sorry,” she offered, and she clamped her teeth over her lip to make sure it didn’t happen again.

But her stress level soared when she heard someone moving through the woods.

Her heart began to pound even harder than before. She forced herself to breathe normally so that she wouldn’t hyperventilate.

Beside her, Lucas didn’t react, didn’t move a muscle. Definitely no threat of hyperventilation for him. Everything in him seemed to still, like a jungle cat waiting to move in for the kill.

The sounds continued. They were closer now. Definitely footsteps. Despite the roar in her ears, she could measure the pace of whoever was walking. Slow, methodical steps. Not from the side, but from behind them.

God, from behind them.

They were about to be ambushed.

Lucas whipped around and fired a shot. “I’m Sheriff Lucas Creed,” he called out, his voice even more of a warning than the bullet he’d just fired. “I know your partner’s injured because he’s got my knife in his leg. My advice? Surrender. He needs medical attention now.”

The footsteps stopped.

And the silence returned.

Long, agonizing moments.

She waited. Trying to stay conscious and to still her body as Lucas had done his. Of course, the baby chose that moment to kick like an NFL punter. Kylie slid her hand over her stomach and rubbed gently.

Lucas’s gaze came to hers. He didn’t speak, but his left eyebrow slid up. It was a question. Are you truly okay? That unsaid question touched her.

Until she made the connection.

His concern wasn’t for her per se. This was some kind of transference because of his own impending fatherhood. Of course, he had no way of knowing that the kicking baby was his baby.

She’d done everything within her power to keep it a secret. And she would continue to do that. Not just through the pregnancy and delivery, but forever.

The thought of that broke her heart. She could never let this child know that she was his or her mother.

Never.

Sometimes, like now, that seemed too high a price to pay, but then she’d created a huge debt because of that fatal shooting three years ago. And she’d made that promise to Marissa. This was the one way she could repay Marissa and Lucas. Her heart would be broken, but his would finally be healed.

“They’re gone,” she heard Lucas say.

Kylie listened and heard the sound of a vehicle on the lake road. Driving away.

Or better yet—getting away.

“You have to go after them,” she whispered frantically.

But just saying those few words robbed her of what little energy she had left.

“No,” Lucas answered. “I can’t leave you. Not without backup.”

Part of her greatly appreciated that. Especially since she was unarmed, barely conscious and a couple of steps past being defenseless. But another part of her, the former cop part, knew that without suspects in custody, she might never learn why they’d come after. The two ski-mask-wearing men might simply disappear.

Which would create a real nightmare for her.

She’d always be wondering, worrying when, where and if they’d strike again. What little peace of mind she had would be a thing of the past.

With that realization, Kylie gave up the fight.

Because she had no choice, she leaned her head against the tree, and the murkiness and the winter night closed in around her.

Chapter Four

“This isn’t necessary,” Kylie grumbled. Again.

Lucas ignored her. Again.

Balancing the cell phone that he had sandwiched between his shoulder and his ear, he gently deposited Kylie onto the paper-covered examining table. She was still groggy, but not so groggy that it prevented her from insisting that she could have walked into the clinic on her own.

Yeah, right.

She was wearing only those flimsy socks. And the temperature had been below freezing. The ground had been hard and slick with frost. Still, if Lucas hadn’t been concerned that she might fall flat on her face, he would have given in to her protests and let her test her theory concerning her walking capabilities. But a fall might have injured her baby. Or even her. Despite how he felt about Kylie, Lucas hadn’t been about to risk that.

“You can wait out there, Lucas,” Dr. Finn McGrath insisted. And to clarify what he meant by out there, Finn hitched his thumb in the direction of the empty reception area just outside the examining room.

“She’ll be okay, right?” Lucas asked.

That earned him a flat look from Finn, a man he’d known all his thirty-one years of life. His best friend.

“I know, I know. Your psychic skills are a little rusty,” Lucas jested.

“But you’re in luck,” Finn replied. “I’m not too rusty in the medical department.”

Lucas appreciated his friend’s attempt to settle him down, but the attempt was wasted. “They drugged her with something,” he explained.

“Yeah. Figured that out.” Finn put a hand on Lucas’s back to get him moving. “I’ll examine her. But since examining her means making sure she doesn’t have any injuries beneath her gown, I don’t think Kylie will want you to be in the room for that. Doubt you’ll want to be there, either.”

No. He didn’t. And it made Lucas more than a little uncomfortable to think of Kylie and what was beneath that gown. Best to think of her only as his former deputy.

As his enemy.

As his most recent 911 call.

Unfortunately, it was impossible to leave out the part about her being pregnant and apparently in a whole boatload of danger.

“I need to bag her clothes,” Lucas reminded Finn. “I can send them to the crime lab in Austin to see if they recover any trace evidence.”

“Yes, I figured that out, too.” Finn pressed a little harder on Lucas’s back. “Don’t worry. Clothes will be bagged and tagged, and I’ll scrounge up something around here for her to wear.”

Lucas nodded and stepped into the reception area. He hadn’t really noticed it on the way in—mainly because his brain had been too occupied with Kylie and her need for medical attention—but he saw the recent changes Finn had made in the office. A wall mural of a serene pasture dotted with bluebonnets and longhorns. A children’s corner stocked with all sorts of toys and books. Gone was the old loveseat, and in its place were four navy leather chairs. Nice ones. But Lucas was too antsy to make use of the chairs. And he was too tired to pace. So, he leaned against the wall and waited.

He glanced at the tiny screen on his phone to determine if he was still on hold. He was connected, which meant Sheriff Knight was no doubt trying to come up with a situation report on the crime scene, so Lucas used the downtime to try to figure out what the heck was going on.

Two men, both armed, had tried to kidnap Kylie.

Why?

They hadn’t wanted to kill her, that’s for sure, or she would have been dead before he could have gotten to her. Not exactly something he cared to admit. But he knew it was true. After mentally reconstructing the possible scenarios, Lucas figured the kidnappers had had more than ample opportunity to murder Kylie while she was still inside her house. But instead, they’d taken her outside. Toward the lake. Probably to some waiting vehicle.

And that’s where his scenario reconstruction dropped like a sack of rocks.

Once he’d carried Kylie to his truck so he could get her to the doctor’s office, he’d called Dillon Knight, the sheriff from the neighboring town, and asked him to proceed with backup to Kylie’s house. Knight’s initial report was that there were no signs of the kidnappers or a ransom note. Plus, Lucas knew Kylie wasn’t a good candidate for a ransom demand since she wasn’t wealthy.

That ruled out kidnapping for money.

It didn’t rule out kidnapping for other reasons.

Revenge. Criminal intent. Perhaps even a way of silencing or punishing her. He’d need to narrow down the possible motives so he could narrow down the list of possible suspects.

“How far along are you in the pregnancy?” Finn asked Kylie.

Even though Lucas didn’t hear Kylie’s softly delivered answer, the question sent Lucas’s blood pressure up a significant notch. He glanced into the examining room. Finn hadn’t shut the door all the way—it was open just a few inches—but it gave Lucas a much clearer view than he wanted.

Kylie had her gaze fastened toward the ceiling, and her left arm was angled so that the back of her hand rested against her forehead. Finn had indeed pushed her gown up to her waist, exposing her bare legs. And her panties. Cotton. Nothing provocative.

Lucas mentally repeated that to himself.

And wondered why it didn’t sink in.

Finn had a stethoscope pressed to Kylie’s stomach, which was also bare, and after a couple of moments, he gave an approving nod.

Finn’s gaze met Lucas’s and with that brief look, Finn conveyed his concern. His empathy.

And his questions.

Finn knew the hell that Lucas and Kylie had gone through. And he also knew that Kylie had had a huge part in creating that particular hell. Now, Finn was probably wondering how Lucas was dealing with the fact that Kylie was pregnant.

Lucas wasn’t dealing with it well.

“Is the baby okay?” Kylie asked.

Finally, she was speaking normally. No slurred words. No mumbling. Lucas felt relief. Then anger for feeling relief that she was apparently all right. Then guilt for feeling the anger.

Oh, man.

Much more of this, and he’d need therapy.

“The baby’s got a steady, solid heartbeat,” Finn relayed in a voice loud enough so that Lucas could hear. “Your heartbeat’s solid as well, Kylie. No visible signs of injury other than a few bruises and scrapes.”

So she wasn’t seriously hurt. That was something at least.

“Lucas?” he heard the person on the other end of the phone line say. Sheriff Dillon Knight. Lucas welcomed the intrusion. Heck, at this point he’d welcome anything as long as he didn’t have to think about Kylie, her baby and what was going on in that examining room.

“You found something?” Lucas asked, tuning out what Kylie was now saying to Finn.

“Nothing good. It looks as if the men made a getaway on the old lake road.”

That’s what Lucas had figured, too. “There will be tire tracks. And blood. I used my knife on one of them, and he probably left a trail of his DNA all the way to the lake.”

“I saw that. We’ve got the area cordoned off so the county forensic guys can come out and have a look. Maybe they’ll find a print or two. Or else they can run the blood and find a match in CODIS.”

CODIS, the Combined DNA Index System. A data bank of sorts. But the only way there’d be a match would be if the wounded would-be kidnapper’s DNA was already on file in the system.

Which wasn’t too much of a long shot.

After all, neither man had been tentative about committing a felony. They’d probably done something criminal before. Or at least, Lucas hoped they had. Because a match in CODIS would give him a name. And with a name, he might be able to figure out why this had happened. That was vital; he needed to solve this case so there’d be no reason for him to be around Kylie.

“I’ll keep you posted,” Sheriff Knight told him as he ended the call.

Lucas slipped his phone into his jacket pocket, turned back to the doorway and saw Finn standing there, his hands bracketed on each side of the jamb. In physical appearance, they were practically opposites. Finn, with his moon-blond hair, blue eyes and his natural surfer-dude tan. Definitely not a typical Texas cowboy. Lucas knew the man didn’t even own a pair of boots. No Stetson, either. And Finn liked to boast that he’d never been within ten feet of a horse. Even when he wore green scrubs, like now, he still managed to look as if he’d just stepped off a surfboard.

“She’ll be okay,” Finn let him know. He handed Lucas a clear plastic bag that contained Kylie’s clothes. “I drew some blood so I can figure out what they used to sedate her. But she should have a checkup by her regular OB. She should have an ultrasound, too.”

Lucas glanced over Finn’s shoulder and saw Kylie. She was now wearing a set of Finn’s scrubs. And yet another pair of socks.

“You can’t do the ultrasound here?” Lucas asked.

“Sorry. Don’t have the equipment.” Finn hooked the stethoscope around his neck, yawned and rubbed his eyes. “There are a lot of advantages to living in a small town like Fall Creek, but we’re Podunkville as far as that type of medical service. She’ll have to go to a larger facility for it.”

Lucas considered it and mentally cursed. “It was Kylie’s trip into San Antonio that might have led to the kidnapping attempt. Kylie had said something about two men possibly following her home.”

“Yes,” Kylie verified. “They did.”

“That means a trip back into the city isn’t a good idea,” Lucas concluded.

At least, not alone. However, it wasn’t a trip Lucas intended to make with her. He’d have to turn this over to a deputy or else Sheriff Knight. This eerie proximity with Kylie Monroe was a lot more than he could handle.

“I’ll drive her in the morning,” Finn volunteered, probably sensing what was on Lucas’s mind. “I have a colleague who manages one of those back-to-nature kind of birthing facilities just outside San Antonio. It’s in the country. Very serene. Off the beaten path. And private. He’ll let me use his ultrasound machine. We’ll keep everything hush-hush.”

Lucas nodded, conveying his thanks. Hopefully, a private facility also meant a safe one.

When there was the sound of movement in the examining room, Finn turned, angling his body so that Lucas and he had a clear view of Kylie. She tried to get up…and failed. With a groan, she eased back down onto the table.

“They used chloroform on me, didn’t they?” Kylie asked. She didn’t wait for an answer. “Will it hurt the baby?”

“Probably not,” Finn answered. “We’ll know more in a day or two when I get back the test results.”

Another soft groan. But a groan wasn’t her only reaction. A tear slid down her cheek, and she quickly swiped it away. “Did anyone catch the men who did this to me?”

Finn stepped aside. That was Lucas’s cue to fill her in and ask a few questions so he’d have info for the report he would have to make. “They’re still at large.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she mumbled.

Lucas ignored the sarcasm and got to work. “Did you get a good look at either of the men?”

Judging from the way her forehead bunched up, she considered that. “No. They were both wearing ski masks. Both dressed in all black. One was about six-one, the other about two inches taller. The taller one had light gray eyes. And he said something like, ‘Don’t hurt the kid or her. We’re to deliver her to the boss. So they can talk.’”

“Talk?” Lucas repeated skeptically.

“I didn’t believe that’s what they had on their minds, either.” She tried to sit up again. This time, she succeeded. Well, for the most part. Kylie wobbled, and she grasped the sides of the examining table. Her gaze came to his. “I’m sorry, Lucas. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t want her apology. Nor did he want her to specify why she was sorry. Maybe it was for Marissa. Or maybe it was because she believed she’d placed him in danger with her 911 call. It was true that she had, but being placed in danger came with his job.

“I’ve got to phone a few people and take care of the arrangements for the ultrasound,” Finn said, making his way out of the room.

Leaving Lucas alone with Kylie.

Lucas decided the best approach to this was the most obvious one—to continue his interview. He was the sheriff, after all, and he’d questioned many victims of many crimes. He would treat this one no differently than the others.

He stopped and admitted that it was a sad day in a man’s life when he started lying to himself.

He had no choice but to treat this case differently. Because this case involved Kylie.

She shook her head. Winced. Wobbled again. Flashed him when she tried to use her leg to maintain her balance. She probably would have fallen if Lucas hadn’t reached out and snagged her shoulders.

“Thanks.” She dropped her head against his right arm. Eased against him.

As if she belonged there.

And for some stupid reason, he didn’t move. He let her stay.

She was shaking, and she looked up at him. Her eyes were ripe with fatigue, spent adrenaline and the aftereffects of the kidnappers’ drug.

“I’m scared,” she whispered. It was an admission he’d never heard Kylie make. And it was true. He could see that stark fear on her face. He could feel it in her. “They could have killed us. You, me, the baby. All three of us.”

“But they didn’t.”

There was no indication in her body language that she believed him. “And here I was so full of myself. So cocky about how I didn’t anyone want to protect me. God, Lucas.” Her voice broke and became a hoarse sob. More tears came. “I was wrong, and that mistake could have cost you everything again. They could have killed your baby.”

His heart actually skipped a beat.

Your baby.

Lucas opened his mouth to correct her. And might have done that if he hadn’t felt Kylie freeze. She went completely stiff; that extreme reaction had him staring down at her.

She pulled back, meeting his gaze head-on. In the depths of all that blue, Lucas saw something in her eyes that he didn’t understand.

He shook his head.

“It’s true,” Kylie said, as if that explained everything.

It took him a moment just to ask what he needed to ask. “What’s true?”

“The only reason I’m telling you this is because I’m afraid I can’t protect this baby by myself. Not now. Not with those men still out there.”

“What are you telling me exactly?” Lucas tried to brace himself for the answer. Judging from her expression, he couldn’t possibly brace himself enough.

A moment later, Kylie confirmed that.

“When you applied for a surrogate, I pulled some strings. Called in a few favors.” He watched the words form on her lips, and each one stabbed through him. “Lucas, I’m your surrogate, and this baby I’m carrying is yours.”

WELL, THAT IMPROMPTU confession cleared Kylie’s head.

The residual effects of the kidnappers’ drug vanished, leaving her with vision and a brain that was a little too clear. That clarity allowed her to see the thunderstruck expression on Lucas’s face.

“My baby?” he mumbled.

She watched that register. First, he shook his head. Stared at her. Shook his head again.

Then it sank in.

He stepped back, his chest pumping as if he were suddenly starved for air. He tried to speak. Couldn’t. He looked as if he were on the verge of seriously losing it. Kylie reached for him, but he put up his hands, palms out, in a back-off gesture.

“Why?” he finally asked.

She didn’t know how he had managed to speak. His teeth were practically clamped together, and his jaw muscles had seemingly turned to iron. But those responses were tame compared to that look in his eyes. There was fire mixed with all those shades of brown. Fire and brimstone.

“Why?” Kylie repeated. “I’ve asked myself that more than a few times.”

“Is this some kind of warped punishment?” Lucas’s anger chilled his voice. “Your way of torturing me?”

She’d anticipated a few of the things Lucas might say if he ever learned the truth, but that hadn’t been one of them. “No. God, no. It’s because of what happened to Marissa.”

“Don’t. I don’t want to talk about her.”

Kylie didn’t even consider heeding his warning. Despite his glare. Despite his defensive posture. They had to get a few things straight. “I did this because of what Marissa said when she was dying. ‘Don’t let my death kill Lucas. Look after him. Help him heal. Make sure he’s happy.’ And that’s what I promised her I would do. I owed her that promise. But you wouldn’t let me help you.”

“I didn’t want you to do any of those things for me,” Lucas protested, stabbing his accusing index finger in her direction. “I didn’t want your help. I still don’t. In fact, the only thing I wanted from you was never to see you again.”

Now, that she’d expected him to say. Too bad she hadn’t planned a perfectly worded response. Too bad that his words hurt.

“You think this was an easy decision for me to make?” she asked. “Well, it wasn’t. I agonized over it. I’m twenty-nine years old, Lucas, and haven’t had a relationship with a man in years. This may be the only baby I ever have, and it’s not even mine. Hear that? It’s not a baby I can hope that you’ll share with me.”

Nothing she said soothed him. In fact, it had the opposite effect. His jaw muscles jerked. And it seemed as if Lucas were about to let go of the choke hold he had on his anger and other emotions.

“And at no point during this monumental decision-making process did it occur to you to ask me if I wanted you for a surrogate?” he stormed. “No. That would have too reasonable. Something a sane, normal person would have done. And you know what I would have said if you’d asked, Kylie? I would have told you that there’s no way in hell I want you to be the mother of my child.”

Oh, that stung.

Mercy.

And here she thought she was somewhat immune to anything Lucas could say to her. She was obviously wrong.

“I made a promise to Marissa,” Kylie reminded him. Because that was the true bottom line of why she’d made her decision. Yes, her guilt had contributed to it. So had her need to somehow pay for her mistake. But if Marissa hadn’t asked, Kylie wouldn’t have become Lucas’s surrogate. “And I always keep my promises.”

“Oh, that’s a good one.” He took several steps toward her and got right in her face. “What about the promise to keep the citizens of Fall Creek safe? What about your sworn oath to follow regs? Regs you ignored when you went after those two men who robbed the convenience store? Was it worth it, Kylie? Was Marissa’s and my baby’s lives worth catching two scumbags who’d stolen a hundred and twenty-three dollars?”

Kylie had no answer for that, and she’d tried for nearly three years to find one. She’d made a fatal mistake that day. Not waiting for backup. Proceeding on foot after two armed suspects. Though waiting for backup might not have changed the outcome, it was a mistake she’d tried to live with.

So far, she hadn’t been successful.

She wasn’t holding out hope that she would succeed any time soon. Because of Marissa’s death, she turned in her badge. Resigned. She’d quit a job she loved. But Kylie was under no illusions that her resignation would atone for what she’d done.

“Look, I know this isn’t my business,” she heard Finn say. He had come back into the room, stepping between Lucas and her. “But you’re both my friends, and I won’t stand here and let you two rip each other apart. Besides, I’d like to get some sleep. My advice is that both of you should quit talking and instead start trying to figure out what you’re going to do. Not about the baby,” he quickly added. “Leave that for a day when tempers have settled a bit. I’m concerned about a more immediate problem here.”

Kylie waited until Lucas turned his attention from her and aimed it at Finn before she followed suit. She also tried to let what Finn had said sink in. Yes. They did have a more immediate problem than her secret surrogacy.

Finn’s hands went to his hips. “Let me insult your intelligence and summarize the situation, Lucas. Someone tried to kidnap Kylie tonight. She’s possibly still in danger. And that baby she’s carrying is yours. My advice—bury the hatchet. Not in her back, either. Bury it and get on with what you know you have to do.”

Kylie figured it was a good time for her to sit there and shut up. Lucas must have decided the same thing because the conversation ground to a halt. Seconds ticked by, practically turning into minutes, before Finn cursed.

“All right. Be that way. Since it obviously isn’t safe or prudent for Kylie to go home, and since I doubt she wants to sleep in the jail or on that examining table, you should take her to your ranch, Lucas.”

“No!” Kylie and Lucas said in unison.

Finn shrugged and directed his attention to Lucas. “Well, I can’t bring Kylie with me to my house. I can’t defend her against kidnappers and other assorted felons. I don’t even own a gun. And besides, protecting her is your job.”

When Lucas didn’t respond other than with a lethal glare, Finn huffed. “Since you’re a good sheriff, and since I know you’re not an ass, I’m trying hard to figure out why you’re hesitating. Is it public opinion? Gossip, maybe?” He stopped, as if considering that. “Please don’t tell me you’re concerned how your former sister-in-law would feel about Kylie staying at the ranch.”

Now, it was Lucas’s turn to huff. “Cordelia doesn’t make decisions for me.”

“That’s never stopped her from trying,” Finn mumbled. He grabbed Lucas’s hand and plopped it against Kylie’s stomach. “But whatever’s causing you to hesitate, forget it. Do what you’ve sworn to do. Protect her. Protect your baby.”

Lucas’s hand was stiff. Even through the cotton scrubs, she could feel the calluses he’d earned the hard way—by working on his ranch. His touch stayed rigid, defensive. He closed his eyes for a moment. Swallowed hard.

Then, something happened.

His touch suddenly wasn’t so hard. Wasn’t so defensive.

Finn backed away. Lucas’s hand stayed put. And his fingers moved gently over her stomach. Not far. Mere fractions of an inch. He didn’t make a sound. Didn’t say word.

But their gazes met.

And in that gaze, Kylie saw what was going on. Pain, yes. That was a given. But there was more. That gentleness wasn’t about the pain, but rather about the life growing inside her.

“My baby,” he said under his breath. “Why?” Not an accusation this time, but a plea.

She waited a moment, to clear that sudden lump in her throat. While she was at it, she prayed she wouldn’t disgrace herself again by crying. “I wanted to try to give you back what I took from you.”

He waited a moment, as well. Staring at her. Really staring. He pulled his hand away, and she immediately felt the loss of his body heat. Something stirred deep down within her. An ache. A longing. A…need.

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