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"I'm waiting, Rissa."
Rissa, Jake was the only person who'd ever cared enough to call her by a nickname. To the world she was the serious librarian who could find any fact in record time, but to Jake she'd always been … she wasn't sure what she'd been to him. Or what she would be now.
She opened her eyes and his face was barely an inch from hers. His breath brushed her cheek and she knew if she leaned the tiniest bit toward him, he'd take control of this unexpected embrace. His lips would touch hers and she'd give up reason and sanity to experience again the magic they'd shared on that long-ago night.
She cleared her throat and leaned away from him. He rubbed his fingers, which had just been touching her face, and looked at her with regret.
"I'm not sure where to begin. The reasons are long and complicated. And you're too angry to really listen."
"Any man would be."
"I'm not saying you shouldn't be. I just don't want to become a victim in your quest for vengeance."
He watched her for a moment then stood in a rush, cursing under his breath. She realized she was right.
She should have known better. She'd never been more than a rather average looking woman and Jake … well, Jake was used to prime cuts of womanhood. Tall, leggy blondes with D cups and flawless complexions. The closest she'd come to a D cup was after Peter had been born and her milk had come in.
"Then let's get this talk about our son over with."
She took a deep breath. She felt even more vulnerable than she had when she'd arrived at his house this morning. "I don't know what to say."
"For God's sake, woman, you graduated from Georgia Tech with honors. How hard can it be for you to find the words?"
"I wish it were easier, but it's all tied to my feelings."
"About me? I didn't force you that night."
"Jake, I was there, remember? It was an incredible night. I don't have any lingering resentment from that."
"I knew it."
"Good thing we're outside."
He quirked one eyebrow at her in question.
"So that your swelled head has room."
"Start from the beginning. I thought I used a condom."
"I think it broke."
"What?"
"I was a little sticky the next morning. So I took a test as soon as possible."
"You knew when I called to ask you to go to Cancun?"
"Yes."
* * *
Jake turned away from Larissa, intent on leaving before he said something he'd regret. Larissa was watching him with tears in her eyes and his head told him there was no way she'd intended to hurt him with her decision. But right now his heart told him he didn't care.
He felt betrayed because he'd always trusted Larissa. If any of the other women he'd slept with had shown up on his doorstep with a child in tow, he'd know they were there for money. He was always careful about protection because he knew that his name and his money left him vulnerable to ambitious women.
But Larissa was the sweet girl he'd felt comfortable talking to in the late hours at the library. The woman who'd come back to their five-year reunion looking like the embodiment of every female fantasy he'd ever had. The woman who'd come to him today for help whether she admitted it or not.
And he was in no mood to help. He had to shake the fury pumping through him with every beat of his heart.
"I'll be back," he said, and walked into his house.
He headed down the hall to his tae kwon do work-out room. In the corner was a bag he used for kick-boxing practice and for sparring when Wes wasn't available to work out. He closed off his thoughts. Centered himself and focused all of his energy on the punching bag. Twenty minutes later he was dripping with sweat and still not sure he was ready to talk to Larissa. But they didn't have the luxury of time. There was a reporter who was determined to flash his face across the front page of every paper with the word father in the headline. He had to step up to the plate. He had to drop the safety of his carefree existence and really make his life count.
He bit back a savage curse. He wasn't ready for this. Didn't know that he ever would be. But Peter—that little boy—and his family deserved better. His uncle had enough to worry about with his campaign and some vaguely threatening e-mails. Jake wasn't going to add Larissa and Peter to the mix.
Grabbing a monogrammed towel from the rack near the door, he walked through his house. His town house had been featured in Modern Architecture as the ultimate bachelor pad. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before stepping out on his patio. He wasn't sure what he expected to find when he returned.
He knew it wasn't Larissa sitting on the grass with their son in her lap. Both of them had their eyes closed and faces turned to the sun. He thought they were sleeping but then realized that Larissa was speaking softly. The words were familiar to him. Robert Frost's poem Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.
