A pulse beat under the white skin of her throat. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a photograph. She glanced at it and her expression softened briefly. Placing the picture on the table, she nudged it toward him with one finger.
He didn’t want to look; he had no clue how he was going to deal with this. She had to be lying. But why? Had he set this charade in motion when he went to see her? Some sort of revenge plot? His brain was numb and in no shape to come up with a plausible answer. He caught her gaze as she nipped her lower lip between sharp white teeth. Finally, he forced himself to look down and stared.
The photo showed a head and shoulders shot of a young girl with dark hair and huge gray eyes. She was the spitting image of his half sister Tamara at that age. He was six years older than Tamara and could remember her well. “Jesus.” He ran his hands through his hair. Other than that, he could think of nothing to say. He had no doubt that he was looking at his daughter. What he couldn’t understand was why she was telling him this now? Why the hell had she never told him before?
He glanced up from the photo to glare at her, and she winced visibly. “I’ll understand if you don’t want anything to do with us,” she said.
Some of the numbness wore off, replaced by an icy trickle of rage. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“No, of course not.” She licked her lips again, a telling gesture; she was nervous. Good. Though this time it did nothing to him at all.
“Why?” he asked.
“Why what?”
“Why tell me now?”
“I told you—Jenny wants to meet you.”
Christ, his ten-year-old daughter, who he hadn’t even known existed until seconds ago, wanted to meet him. How did he feel about that? Fucking furious. “I’m surprised you didn’t tell her I was dead.”
A flush washed over her face, and something flashed in her eyes.
“Christ, you thought about it didn’t you?”
“I…” She took a deep breath. “Look, I can see you’re angry—”
“Really. Why the fucking hell would I be angry? Maybe because you kept the fact that I had a daughter secret from me for ten years, and now you walk in here and expect me to take it calmly.”
“I tried to tell you.”
“Obviously not very fucking hard.”
He saw the first flickers of anger in her eyes. “When I found out I was pregnant, I came here to see you. I didn’t even know your full name, just this place. They told me you were in prison. That you’d been convicted for assaulting a police officer.”
Of course. He’d been arrested the day after he’d first met her, had been denied bail, and sentenced to eighteen months. He’d gotten out on good behavior after twelve, but he would have been inside when she had the baby.
“I was eighteen,” she continued, “My father is a lawyer, and I was supposed to be starting law school that autumn. So yes, visiting my baby’s father in prison was a little outside my comfort zone.”
“And after that?”
“It seemed easier to…ignore your existence. It never occurred to me that you’d want to know. We had a one-night stand. There was nothing between us.”
“Except a baby.”
She went silent, tracing an invisible pattern on the tabletop with her fingertip. Finally, she looked up. “I did what I thought was right for my daughter.”
Yeah, because having a man like him for a father was obviously a shitload worse than no father at all. He couldn’t believe the bitterness that washed over him at that thought. He was used to people taking a look at him and presuming he was a badass. It had never bothered him before. Hell, he’d taken a certain pride in it.
“So why didn’t you tell her I was dead? That would have been nice and clean. No nasty, unsuitable ex-con of a father to explain away.”
“I won’t lie to you. I thought about it. I was still thinking about it when you came to see me.” She rubbed at her forehead dislodging a strand of mahogany hair, ruining the perfect exterior. He had an urge to yank out the pins, mess her up further. “But it isn’t fair on Jenny to lie. She has a right to know. And one day she’ll find out. So I checked you out, and when I found out you hadn’t been in any more trouble, I—”
“Decided to tell me the good news.” Jesus, how much had she checked him out? He was a wealthy man. Was that what it was about—money? But he didn’t think so, however angry he was. “What about me?” he asked. “Was it fucking fair on me? Did you ever think about that?”
Her eyes widened, no doubt at the anger in his voice. Then she slowly shook her head. “No. It was never about you. Always about Jenny. I don’t know you…didn’t know you. I had to think about what was best for her. And I have to tell you, if you’d been to prison again after that first time, I would not be here now.”
Part of him could understand that, but most of him was seriously pissed off. What the hell right did she have to judge him? And find him wanting?
“I’m her mother. It’s my job to protect her.” She picked up her hat, and he realized that she was leaving. She’d dropped this bombshell and now she was going to calmly walk way.