Wanted by Her Lost Love (Pregnancy & Passion #2)(4)

Her hands automatically went to her belly, and she rubbed soothingly, not sure who she was trying to comfort more, her baby or herself.

“I was a fool to love him,” she whispered. “I was a fool to think I could ever fit in and that his family would accept me.”

She jumped when the door behind her vibrated with a knock. Her heart leaped into her throat, and she put a shaky hand to her chest. She stared at the door as if she could see through it.

“Kelly, open the damn door. I know you’re in there.”

Ryan. God. The very last person she wanted to open the door to.

She put a hand to the wood and leaned forward, unsure of whether she should ignore him or respond.

The force of his second knock bumped her hand, and she snatched it away.

“Go away,” she finally shouted. “I have nothing to say to you.”

Suddenly the door shuddered and flew open. She took several hasty steps backward, her arms curling protectively over her belly.

He filled the doorway, looking as big and formidable as ever. Nothing had changed except for new lines around his mouth and eyes. His gaze stroked over her, piercing through any protective barriers she thought to construct. He’d always had a way of seeing right to the heart of her. Except when it mattered the most.

Fresh grief flooded through her chest. Damn him. What else could he possibly want to do to hurt her? He’d already destroyed her.

“Get out,” she said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. “Get out or I’ll call the police. I have nothing to talk to you about. Not now. Not ever.”

“That’s too bad,” Ryan said as he stalked forward, “because I have plenty to talk to you about. Starting with whose baby you’re pregnant with.”

Two

Kelly willed herself not to rage at him. Instead, she looked calmly at him, coolly, while emotions boiled beneath the surface like molten lava ready to erupt. “It’s none of your business.”

His nostrils flared. “It is if you’re carrying my baby.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. “Now why would you think that?”

For a man only too willing to believe she’d slept around, it seemed pretty damn ridiculous that he’d barge into her apartment demanding to know whether or not her baby was his.

“Damn it, Kelly, we were engaged. We lived together and were intimate often. I have a right to know if this is my child.”

She raised an eyebrow and studied him for a moment. “There is no way to know. After all I was with so many other men, your brother included.” She shrugged nonchalantly and turned away from him, going into the kitchen.

He was close on her heels and she could feel the anger emanating from him. “You’re a bitch, Kelly. A cold, calculating bitch. I gave you everything and you threw it away for a little gratuitous sex on the side.”

She whipped around, the urge to hit him so strong that she had to curl her fingers into a fist to keep from doing just that. “Get out. Get out and don’t ever come back.”

His eyes glittered with anger and frustration. “I’m not going anywhere, Kelly, not until you tell me what I want to know.”

She bared her teeth. “It’s not your baby. Happy? Now go.”

“Is it Jarrod’s then?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“We don’t talk about you,” he bit out.

“Well, I don’t want to talk about either of you. I want you out of my apartment. It isn’t your baby. Get out of my life. I did as you asked. I got out of yours.”

“You didn’t give me a choice.”

She looked scornfully at him. “Choice? I don’t remember having a choice either. You made that choice for both of us.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “You’re a piece of work, Kelly. Still the innocent martyr, I see.”

She walked over to the door and opened it, looking expectantly at him.

He didn’t move. “Why are you living this way, Kelly? I can’t wrap my head around why you did what you did. I would have given you everything. Hell, I still gave you a hefty amount of money when we broke up because I didn’t like to think of you being without. But now I find you living in squalor working a job that is far beneath your abilities.”

A wave of hatred hit her hard. In this moment she realized that she truly loved and hated him in equal measure. Her chest hurt so bad that she couldn’t breathe. Her mind went back to the day when she’d stood in front of him, devastated, completely and utterly broken, while he scribbled his signature on a bank draft and disdainfully shoved it toward her.

The look in his eyes had told her that he didn’t love her, had never loved her. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t have faith in her.

When she’d needed him the absolute most, he’d let her down and treated her like a paid whore. She would never forgive him for that.

She slowly turned and dragged herself over to the kitchen drawer where she kept the crumpled envelope containing the check. A reminder of broken dreams and ultimate betrayal. She’d looked at it often but had sworn she would never walk into a bank and cash it.

She picked it up and walked back over to where he stood, his expression inscrutable. She crumpled the envelope into a ball and hurled it at him, hitting him in the cheek.

“There’s your check,” she hissed. “Take it and get the hell out of my life.”