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Chapter Four

This was not how Cal had planned his visit.

It was supposed to be in and out quickly. He was only on a fact-finding mission so he could get out of hot water with the director. Instead, he’d walked right into a vipers’ nest. And one viper was way too close.

Holden Carr was literally pounding on Jenna’s door.

Cal glanced back at her. With a butcher knife in a white-knuckled death grip, Jenna was standing guard in front of the nursery. She was pale, trembling and nibbling on her bottom lip. Bam! There were his protective instincts.

There was no way he could let her face Holden Carr alone. From everything Cal had read about the man, Holden was as dangerous as Paul, his former business partner. And Paul had been ready to commit murder to get his hands on Jenna’s estate.

“Go to your daughter,” Cal instructed while Holden continued to pound.

She shook her head. “You might need backup.”

He lifted his eyebrow. She wasn’t exactly backup material. Jenna Laniere might have been temporarily living in a starter apartment in a quaint Texas cowboy town, but her blue blood and pampered upbringing couldn’t have prepared her for the likes of Holden Carr.

“I’ll handle this,” Cal let her know, and he left no room for argument.

She mumbled something, but stepped back into the nursery.

With his SIG Sauer drawn, Cal stood to the side of the door. It was standard procedure—bad guys often like to shoot through doors. But Holden probably didn’t have that in mind. It was broad daylight and with the door-pounding, he was probably drawing all kinds of attention to himself, but Cal didn’t want to take an unnecessary risk.

Once he was in place, he reached over. Unlocked the door. And eased it open.

Cal jammed his gun right in Holden’s face.

Holden’s dust-gray eyes sliced in the direction of the SIG Sauer. There was just a flash of shock and concern before he buried those reactions in the cool composure of his Nordic pale skin and his Viking-size body. He was decked out in a pricy camel-colored suit that probably cost more than Cal made in a month.

“I’m Holden Carr and I need to see Jenna,” he announced.

Cal didn’t lower his gun. In fact, he jabbed it against Holden’s right cheek. “Oh, yeah? About what?”

“A private matter.”

“It’s not so private. From what I’ve heard you’re threatening her. It takes a special kind of man to threaten a woman half his size. Of course, you’re no stranger to violence, are you? Did you murder Paul Tolivar?”

Holden couldn’t quite bury his anger fast enough. It rippled through his jaw muscles and his eyes. “Who the hell are you?”

“Cal Rico. I’m Jenna’s…friend.” But he let his tone indicate that he was the man who wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if Holden tried to barge his way in. “Anything you have to say to Jenna, you can say to me. I’ll make sure she gets the message.”

“The message is she can’t hide from me forever.” Holden enunciated each word. “I know she had a baby. A little girl named Sophie Elizabeth. Born three months ago. That means the child is Paul’s.”

It didn’t surprise Cal that Holden knew all of this, but what else did he know? “Paul, the man you murdered,” Cal challenged.

There was another flash of anger. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I didn’t murder him. His housekeeper did. She was secretly working for a rebel faction who had issues with some of Paul’s businesses.”

“Right. The housekeeper.” Cal made sure he sounded skeptical. He’d already heard the theory of the runaway housekeeper known only as Mary. “I don’t suppose she confessed.”

Holden had to get his teeth apart before he could respond. “She fled the estate after she killed him. No one’s been able to find her.”

“Convenient. Now, mind telling me how you came by this information about Jenna’s child?”

“Yes. I mind.”

Cal hadn’t expected him to volunteer that, since it almost certainly involved illegal activity. “Hmmm. I smell a wire tap. That kind of illegal activity can get you arrested. Your dual citizenship won’t do a thing to protect you, either. If you hightail it back to Monte de Leon, you can be extradited.”

Though that wasn’t likely. Still, Cal made a note to discover the source of that possible tap.

Holden looked past him, and because they were so close, Cal saw the man’s eyes light up. Cal didn’t have to guess why. Holden was aiming his attention in the direction of the nursery door and had probably spotted Jenna. He tried to come inside, but Cal blocked the door with his foot.

“She’ll have to talk to me sooner or later,” Holden insisted. “Call off your guard dog,” he yelled at Jenna.

“What do you want?” Jenna asked. Cal silently groaned when he heard her walking closer. She really didn’t take orders very well.

“I want you to carry out Paul’s wishes. In his will, he named me guardian of his children. He didn’t have any children at the time he wrote that, but he does now.”

“You only want my daughter so you can control me,” Jenna tossed out.

Holden didn’t deny it. “I’ve petitioned the court for custody,” he said.

Jenna stopped right next to Cal, and she reached across his body to open the door wider. “No judge would give you custody.”

“Maybe not in this country, but in Monte de Leon, the law will be on Paul’s side. Even in death he’s still a powerful man with powerful friends.”

“Sophie’s an American,” Jenna pointed out. “Born right here in Texas.”

“And you think that’ll stop Paul’s wishes from being carried out? It won’t. If the Monte de Leon court deems you unfit—and that can easily happen with the right judge—then the court will petition for the child to be brought to her father’s estate.”

“Sophie is not Paul’s child.” She looked Holden right in the eye when she told that lie.

But Holden only smiled. “I’ve seen pictures of her. She looks just like him. Dark brown hair. Blue eyes.”

Pictures meant he had surveillance along with taps. This was not looking good.

Cal could hear Jenna’s breath speed up. Fear had a smell, and she was throwing off that scent, along with motherly protection vibes. But that wouldn’t do anything to convince this SOB that he didn’t have a right to claim her child.

From the corner of his eye, Cal spotted a movement. There was a tall redheaded woman with a camera. She was about forty yards away across the street and was clicking pictures of this encounter. Gwen Mitchell no doubt. And she wasn’t the only woman there. He also spotted a slender blonde making her way up the steps to Jenna’s apartment.

“That’s Helena Carr,” Jenna provided.

Holden’s sister and business partner. Great. Now there was an added snake to deal with, and it was all playing out in front of a photographer with questionable motives. Cal could already hear himself having to explain why he was in small-town America with his standard-issue SIG Sauer smashed against a civilian’s face.

“This meeting is over,” Cal insisted. He lowered his gun, but he kept it aimed at Holden’s right kneecap.

“It’ll be over when Jenna admits that her daughter is Paul’s,” Holden countered.

“We just want the truth.” That from Helena, who was a feminine version of her brother without the Vikingwide shoulders. Her stare was different, too. Nonthreatening. Almost serene. “After all, we know she slept with Paul, and the timing is perfect to have produced Sophie.”

Cal hoped he didn’t regret this later, but there was one simple way to diffuse this. “I have dark brown hair, blue eyes. Just like Sophie’s.” He hoped, since he hadn’t actually seen the little girl.

Helena blinked and gave him an accusing stare. Holden cursed. “Are you saying you’re the father?” he asked.

“No,” Jenna started to say. But Cal made sure his voice drowned her out.

“Yes,” Cal snarled. “I’m Sophie’s father.”

“Impossible,” Holden snarled back.

Cal gave him a cocky snort. “There is nothing impossible about it. I’m a man. Jenna’s a woman. Sometimes men and women have sex, and that results in a pregnancy.”

And just in case Jenna was going to say something to contradict him, Cal gave her a quick glance. She was staring at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“You won’t mind taking a DNA test,” Holden insisted.

“Tell you what. You send the request for a DNA sample through your foreign judge and let it trickle its way through our American judicial system. Then I’ll get back to you with an answer.”

Of course, the answer would be no.

Still, that wouldn’t stop Holden from trying. If he controlled Jenna’s child, then he would ultimately have access to a vast money-laundering enterprise. Then he could fully operate his own family business and the one he’d inherited from Paul.

“This isn’t over.” Holden aimed the threat at Jenna as he stalked away.

Cal was about to shut the door and call his director so he could start some damage control, but Helena eased her hand onto the side to stop it from closing.

“I’m sorry about this.” Helena sounded sincere. Or else she’d rehearsed it enough to fake sincerity. Maybe this was the brother-sister version of good cop/bad cop. “I just want the truth so I can make sure Paul’s child inherits what she deserves.”

Jenna didn’t even address that. “Can you stop your brother?”

Cal carefully noted Helena’s reaction. She glanced over her shoulder. First, at her brother who was getting inside their high-end car. Then at the photographer.

“Could I step inside for just a moment?” That sincerity thing was there again.

But Cal wasn’t buying it.

Jenna apparently did. With the butcher knife still clutched in her hand, she stepped back so Helena could enter.

“That reporter out there might have some way to eavesdrop on us,” Helena explained. “She has equipment and cameras with her.”

Maybe. But Cal hadn’t seen anything to suggest long-range eavesdropping equipment. Still, it was an unnecessary risk to keep talking in plain view. Lipreading was a possibility. Plus, anything said here could ultimately put Jenna in more danger and get him in deeper trouble with the director. Not that her paternity claims were exactly newsworthy, but he didn’t want to see his and Jenna’s names and photos splashed in a newspaper.

“Well?” Cal prompted when Helena continued to look around and didn’t say anything else.

“Where do I start?” She seemed to be waiting for an invitation to sit down, but Cal didn’t offer. Helena sighed. “My brother is determined to carry out Paul’s wishes. They’ve been friends since childhood when our parents moved to Monte de Leon to start businesses there. Holden was devastated when Paul was killed.”

Cal shrugged. “Paul isn’t the father of Jenna’s child, so there’s no wish to carry out.”

The last word had hardly left his mouth when he heard a soft whimpering cry sound coming from the nursery.

“Sophie,” Jenna mumbled.

“Go to her,” Cal advised. “I’ll finish up here.”

Jenna hesitated. But not for long—the baby’s cries were getting louder.

“I do need to talk to Jenna,” Helena continued. She opened her purse and rummaged through it. “Do you have a pen? I want to leave my cell number so she can contact me.”

That was actually a good idea. He might be able to get approval to trace Helena’s calls and obtain a record of her past ones.

Cal didn’t have a pen with him, and he looked around before spotting one and a notepad on the kitchen countertop. He got it and glanced into the nursery while he was on that side of the room. Jenna was leaning over the crib changing Sophie’s diaper.

“Someone was following Jenna.” Cal walked back to Helena and handed her the pen and notepad.

She dodged his gaze, took the pen and wrote down her number. “You mean that reporter across the street? She approached us when we drove up and said she was doing an article about Paul. She said she recognized Holden from newspaper pictures.”

Cal shook his head. “Not her. Someone else. A man.” He watched for a reaction.

Helena shrugged and handed him the notepad. “You think I know something about it?”

“Do you? The man’s name is Anthony Salazar.”

Her eyes widened. “Salazar,” she repeated on a rise of breath. “You’ve seen him here in Willow Ridge?”

“I’ve seen him,” Cal confirmed. “Now, mind telling me how you know him?”

Her breath became even more rapid, and she glanced around to make sure it was safe to talk. “Anthony Salazar is evil,” she said in a whisper.

He caught her arm when she turned to leave. “And you know this how?”

She opened her mouth but stopped. “Are you wearing a wire?” she demanded.

“No, and I’m not going to strip down to prove it. But you are going to give me answers.”

Her chin came up. Since he had hold of her arm, he could feel that she was trembling. “You’re trying to make me say something incriminating.”

Yeah. But for now, Cal would settle for the truth. “What’s your connection to Salazar? Does he work for your brother? For you?”

She reached behind her and opened the door. “He worked for Paul.”

He hadn’t expected that answer. “Paul’s dead.”

“But his estate isn’t.”

“What does that mean?” Cal asked cautiously.

“Yesterday was the first anniversary of Paul’s death. Early this morning his attorney delivered e-mails of instruction to people named in his will. I saw the list. Salazar got one.”

Cal paused a moment to give that some thought. “Are you saying Paul reached out from the grave and hired this man to do something to Jenna?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Helena turned and delivered the rest from over her shoulder as she started down the steps. “Neither Holden nor I can call off Salazar. No one can.”

Chapter Five

After Jenna changed Sophie’s diaper, she gently rocked her until her daughter’s whimpers and cries faded. It took just a few seconds before her baby was calm, cooing and smiling at her. It was like magic, and even though it warmed her heart to see her baby so happy, Jenna only wished she could be soothed so easily.

Not much of a chance of that with Holden, his sister and that assassin lurking around. She kept mumbling the poem “The Raven,” and hoped the mechanical exercise would keep her calm.

She heard Cal shut and lock the door, and Jenna wanted to be out there while he was talking to Helena. After all, this was her fight, not Cal’s. But she also didn’t want Holden or Helena anywhere near her baby.

With Helena gone, Jenna went into the kitchen so she could fix Sophie a bottle. Cal glanced at her, but he had his phone already pressed to his ear, so he didn’t say anything to her.

“Hollywood, I need a big favor,” Cal said to the person on the other end of the phone line. “The subjects are Holden Carr, Jenna Laniere and Anthony Salazar.” He paused. “Yes, the Holden and Jenna from Monte de Leon. I need to know how he found out where she’s living. Look for wiretaps first and then dig into her employees. I want to know about any connection with anyone who could have given him this info or photos of Jenna Laniere’s baby.”

Well, that was a start. Hopefully Cal’s contacts would give them an answer soon. It wouldn’t, however, solve her problem with Salazar.

She and Sophie needed protection.

And she needed to clear up the paternity issue with Cal’s director. And amid all that, she had to make arrangements to move. The apartment was no longer safe now that Holden and Helena Carr knew where she was. Packing wouldn’t take long—for the past year, she’d literally been living out of a suitcase, anyway.

With Sophie nestled in the crook of her arm, Jenna warmed the formula, tested a drop on her wrist to make sure it wasn’t too hot, and carried both baby and bottle to the sofa so she could feed her. Sophie wasn’t smiling any longer. She was hungry and was making more of those whimpering demands. Jenna kissed her cheek and started to feed her.

Once it was quiet, it was impossible to shut out what Cal was saying. He was still giving someone instructions about checking on the reporter and where to look for Holden Carr’s leak, and Cal wanted the person to learn more about some e-mails that might have recently been sent out by Paul’s attorney.

She didn’t know anything about e-mails, but a leak in communication could mean someone might have betrayed her. There was just one problem with that. Before the trip to the pediatrician, no one including her own household staff and employees had known where she was.

Now everyone seemed to know.

Cal ended his call and scrubbed his hand over his face. He was obviously frustrated. So was Jenna. But she had to figure out a way to get Cal out of the picture. He didn’t deserve this, and once she was at a safe location, she could get the DNA test for Sophie.

“So, this is Sophie,” he commented, walking closer. “She’s so little for someone who’s caused a lot of big waves.”

“I’m the one who caused the waves,” Jenna corrected.

Cal shrugged it off, but she doubted he was doing that on the inside. “She seems to like that bottle.”

“I couldn’t breast-feed her. I got mastitis—that’s an infection—right after she was born. By the time it’d run its course and I was off the antibiotics, Sophie decided the bottle was for her.” Jenna cringed a little, wondering why she’d shared something so personal with a man who was doing everything he could to get her out of his life.

Cal walked even closer, and Sophie responded to the sound of his footsteps by turning her head in his direction. She tracked him with her wide blue-green eyes and fastened her gaze on him when he sat on the sofa next to them. Even with the bottle in her mouth, she smiled at him.

Much to Jenna’s surprise, Cal smiled back.

It was a great smile, too, and made him look even hotter than he already was. That smile was a lethal weapon in his arsenal.

“She looks like you,” Cal said. “Your face. Your eyes.”

“Paul’s coloring, though,” she added softly. “But when I look at her, I don’t see him. I never have. I loved her unconditionally from the first moment I realized I was pregnant.” Sheez. More personal stuff.

Why couldn’t she stop babbling?

“Helena left you her cell number,” Cal said, dropping the notepad onto the coffee table, switching the subject. “She said you’re to call her.”

Jenna glanced at it and noticed that it had a local area code. “What does she want?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. All I know is I don’t trust her or Holden.” Sophie kicked at him, and he brushed his fingers over her bare toes. He smiled again. But the smile quickly faded. “Helena said that early this morning Salazar received an e-mail from Paul’s estate. It might have something to do with why he’s here.”

Paul again. “It doesn’t matter why he’s here. I plan to call the Willow Ridge sheriff and see if he can arrest him.”

“That’s one option. Probably not a good one, though. Salazar won’t be easy to catch.”

“But we both saw him, right there on Main Street,” Jenna pointed out.

Cal nodded. “Unless the local sheriff is very good at what he does, and very lucky, he could get killed attempting to arrest a man like Salazar.”

Oh, mercy. She hadn’t even considered that. “Then I have to move sooner than I thought. As soon as Sophie’s finished with her bottle, I’ll—”

But she stopped there because it involved too many steps and a lot of phone calls.

Where should she start?

“We’ll have some information about Holden soon,” Cal finished for her. “Once we have that, we’ll go from there. It’s best if we arrange for someone else to pick up Salazar, not the local sheriff.”

“We?” she challenged, wondering why he wasn’t excusing himself from this situation.

He kept his attention on Sophie and reached out and touched one of her dark brown curls. “We, as in someone assigned from the International Security Agency.”

But not him. A coworker, maybe.

Jenna thought about that for a moment and wondered about the man sitting next to her. She hadn’t forgotten the way he’d bashed through a window to save her. “Are you a spy?”

He didn’t blink, didn’t react. “I’m an operative.”

“Is that another word for a spy?”

“It can be.” Still no reaction. “The ISA is a sister organization to the CIA. We have no jurisdiction on American soil. We operate only in foreign countries to protect American interests, mainly through rescues and extractions in hostile situations.” He took his eyes off Sophie and aimed them at her. “I’m not sure how much I can get involved in your situation.”

“I understand.” Sophie was finished with her bottle, and Jenna put her against her shoulder so she could burp her. “Besides, I’ve caused you enough trouble.”

He didn’t disagree. But there was some kind of debate stirring inside him. “I hadn’t expected to want to protect you,” he admitted.

Oh. She was surprised not just by his desire to help her, but also by the admission itself. “Why?”

“Why?” he repeated.

She searched his eyes, looking for an answer. Or at least a way to rephrase the question so that it didn’t imply the attraction she felt for him. An attraction he probably didn’t feel.

“Why did you call my office in Houston last month?” It was something Jenna had wanted to ask since she’d received the message.

Cal shrugged. “The ISA was reopening the investigation into Paul’s business dealings and murder. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“And that’s all?” She nearly waved that off. But something in his eyes had her holding her tongue. She wanted to know the reason.

He didn’t dodge her gaze. “I was going to see if you’d gotten over Paul. I’d planned to ask you out.”

Jenna went still. So maybe the attraction was mutual after all.

She doubted that was a good thing.

“I was over Paul the moment he slapped me for refusing his marriage proposal,” Jenna let him know.

His jaw muscles went to war again. “I heard that slap. I was monitoring you with long-distance eavesdropping equipment.”

She felt her cheeks flush. It embarrassed her to know that anyone, especially Cal, had witnessed that. The whole incident with Paul was a testament to her poor judgment.

“I’ve been a screwup most of my life,” she admitted.

He made a throaty sound of surprise. “You think that slap was your fault?”

“I think being at Paul’s estate was my first mistake. I should have had him investigated before I went down there. I shouldn’t have trusted him.”

He leaned closer. “Is this where I should remind you about hindsight and that Paul was a really good con artist?”

“It wouldn’t help. I’ve been duped by two other losers. One in college—my supposed boyfriend stole my credit cards and some jewelry. And then there was the assistant I hired right before this mess with Paul. He sold business secrets to my competition.” She paused, brought her eyes back to his. “That’s why I’m not jumping for joy that you wanted to ask me out.”

Cal flexed his eyebrows. “You think I’m a loser like those other guys?”

“No.” Shocked that he’d even suggest it, she repeated her denial. “I know you’re not. But I have this trust issue now. On top of the damage I’ve caused your career, I know I’d be bad for you.”

He didn’t say a word, and the silence closed in around them. Seconds passed.

“Remember when you were lying beneath me in that cantina?” he asked.

“Oh, yes.” She winced because she said it so quickly. And so fondly.

“Well, I remember it, too. Heck, I fantasize about it. I was hoping once I saw you, once I got out my anger over the lie you told, that the fantasies would stop.”

Oh, my. Fantasies? This wasn’t good. She’d had her own share of fantasies about Cal. Thankfully, she didn’t say or do anything stupid. Then Sophie burped loudly, and spit up. It landed on Jenna’s shoulder and the front of her sweater.

The corner of Cal’s mouth lifted. There was relief in his expression, and Jenna thought he was already regretting this frank conversation.

She glanced down at Sophie, who was smiling now. Jenna wiped her mouth, kissed her on the forehead, put her in the infant carrier seat on the coffee table and buckled the safety strap so that she couldn’t wiggle out.

“Could you watch her a minute while I change my top?” Jenna asked.

“Sure.” But he didn’t look so sure. It was the first time he’d ever seemed nervous. Including when he’d faced gunfire during her rescue.

Jenna stood. So did Cal, though he did keep his hand on the top edge of the carrier. “Forget about that fantasy stuff,” he said.

“I will,” she lied. “I don’t want to cause any more problems for you.”

But she had already caused more problems. Jenna could feel it. The attraction was stirring between them. It was a full-fledged tug deep within her belly. A tug that reminded her that despite being a mom, she was still very much a woman standing too close to a too-attractive man.

She fluttered her fingers toward the nursery. “I won’t be long.” But even with that declaration, she gave in to that tug and hesitated a moment.

Cal cursed softly under his breath. “We’ll talk about security plans after you’ve changed your top.”

That should have knocked her back to reality. But while his mouth was saying those practical words, his eyes seemed to be saying, I want to kiss you.

Maybe that was wishful thinking.

Either way, Jenna turned before she said something they’d both regret.

She hurriedly grabbed another sweater from the suitcase in the nursery. She shut the door enough to give herself some privacy, but kept it ajar so she could hear if Sophie started to cry. Jenna peeked out to see Cal playing with her daughter’s toes while he made some funny faces. The interaction didn’t last long—Cal’s phone rang, and he answered it.

“Hollywood,” Cal greeted. “I hope you have good news for me.”

So did Jenna. They desperately needed something to go their way.

She peeled off the soiled sweater, stuffed it into a plastic bag and put it in the suitcase. It would save her from having to pack it in the next hour or two. Then she put on a dark green top and grabbed some other items from around the room to pack those as well.

When she’d finished cramming as much in the suitcase as she could, she took a moment to compose herself. And hated that she didn’t feel stronger. But then, it was hard to feel strong when her past relationship with Paul might endanger her daughter.

She peeked out to make sure Sophie was okay. She was. So Jenna waited, listening to Cal’s conversation. It was mostly one-sided. He grunted a few responses, and started to curse, but he bit it off when he looked down at Sophie. The profanity and his expression said it all.

“Bad news?” Jenna asked the moment he hung up.

“Some.” He looked at Sophie and then glanced around the room. “It’s best if you stay put while arrangements are being made for you and Sophie to move.”

She walked back to the sofa and sat down across from her daughter. Just seeing that tiny face was a reminder that the stakes were massive now. “Staying put will be safe?”

Cal nodded. “As safe as I can make it.”

“You?” she questioned. Not we. “Your director approves of this.”

“He approves.”

Which meant the situation was dangerous enough for the director to break protocol by allowing her to be guarded by Cal despite the inappropriate conduct that he believed had happened between them.

“How bad is the bad news?” she asked.

He pulled in his breath and walked closer. “Our communications specialist is a guy we call Hollywood. He’s very good at what he does, and he can’t find an obvious leak, so we don’t know how Holden located you. Not yet, anyway. But we were able to get more information about the e-mails sent out by Paul’s attorney. Each one was sent from a different account, and one went to your office in Houston. Holden, Helena and Anthony Salazar each got one. The final one went to your reporter friend, Gwen Mitchell.”

Gwen Mitchell? So Paul had known her. Funny, the woman hadn’t mentioned that particular detail when she’d introduced herself at the grocery store.

Jenna reached for the phone. “Well, my e-mail didn’t come to my private or business addresses. I check those several times a day. I’ll call my office and see if it arrived in one of the other accounts.”

Cal caught her arm to stop her. “The ISA has already retrieved it and taken it off your server. It’s encrypted so we’ll need the communications guys to take a look at it.”

That sounded a bit ominous, so she settled for nodding. “What’s in these e-mails?”

“We’ve only gained access to yours and Salazar’s. His e-mail was encrypted as well, but we decided to focus on it first. The encryption wasn’t complex, and the computer broke the code within seconds. We’re not sure if all the e-mails are similar, but this one appears to be instructions that Paul left with his attorney shortly before his death.”

“Instructions?” The content of that e-mail was obviously the bad news that had etched Cal’s face with worry. “Paul gave Salazar orders to kill me?”

“Not exactly.”

His hesitation caused her heart rate to spike.

“Then what?” she asked, holding her breath.

“We’re piecing this together using some files we confiscated from Paul’s estate and the e-mail sent to Salazar. Apparently before you rejected Paul’s proposal and he decided to kill you, he tried to get you pregnant.”

Oh, mercy. She’d known Paul was a snake, but she hadn’t realized just how far he’d gone with his sinister plan.

“Paul used personal information he got from your corrupt assistant, the one who sold your business secrets,” Cal continued. “With some of that information, Paul invited you to his estate when he estimated that you’d be ovulating. He drugged you. That’s why you don’t remember having sex with him.”