Daddy's Double Due Date. Belinda Barnes

home number in the phone book, she would call him and put an end to any notions he had of being a father to her child.

      Pulling from the lot, she couldn’t help but wonder about his plans. Not that she wanted any part of them…or him for that matter. Been there. Done that. After six years of marriage during which she’d been unable to conceive, including one in vitro attempt, her husband had divorced her for the secretary he’d gotten pregnant. This same man who’d sworn to uphold justice had used his connection with the judge to make sure Ashley left town with only a small settlement, custody of her frozen ovum, and not much of her heart or pride left intact.

      Since moving to Hale, she’d found a job and wanted to make a new life for herself and maybe one day a child. Now, having been added to the firm’s health insurance, she had decided the time was right. Her eggs weren’t getting any younger, and neither was she. The first installment of the meager divorce settlement had been enough to have her eggs fertilized with donor sperm and implanted. Unless her financial status changed drastically, this could well be her last chance.

      She cupped one palm over her infant, safe and sound inside her still-flat stomach. No one—neither man nor lawyer—would take advantage of her again. She had let it happen once.

      Now a child was involved. An innocent baby. Her baby.

      If Hunter Morgan wanted a fight, she would give him one.

      “You’re two hours late,” Hunter snapped, cursing himself the minute he growled the accusation.

      With a startled gasp, Ashley looked up. Her hand gripped the apartment railing as if to steady herself. She frowned, then continued climbing the few remaining steps to the second floor landing.

      “Good to see you, too,” she said, moving toward her door. “Sorry I’m late. Mr. Williams didn’t mention until after five o’clock that he needed me to stay to get something out. I tried calling your office as soon as I knew, but no one answered.”

      Hunter wasn’t sure he believed her. She’d made it perfectly clear she didn’t want to be around him. Not that he could blame her. At their meeting this afternoon he had all but threatened her, treated her as if she were no better than the accused felons he dealt with. Afterward, he had felt lower than a snake and had promised himself he would remember she was a woman—a pregnant woman. A pregnant woman carrying his child. That meant he had to get a firm hold on his temper and treat her like a lady. If their exchange thus far was any indication, he had forgotten how to do both.

      Pushing off the steps where he had waited the past two hours, Hunter held out a sack containing two cold cheese-burgers and fries. “I came on kind of strong this afternoon and brought a peace offering,” he said, giving her what he hoped was a sincere smile. It had been so long since he’d had a reason to grin, the movement seemed rusty, forced, and totally wrong. It probably looked as dumb as it felt.

      She walked toward her apartment and revealed her surprise at his token apology only in the slight widening of her brown eyes lined with dark smudges of fatigue.

      Knowing what he had to do didn’t make him feel any better. Going up against a criminal represented by legal counsel was something Hunter did every day, something at which he excelled, something he loved. But taking on a slip of a woman didn’t sit well with him. And something about this particular woman bothered him more than it should. It had to be her innocent vulnerability. Or maybe the way she had placed her hand over her stomach as if to protect his child…from him.

      Her attempt to keep him from his child—same as his father had done fifteen years ago by forcing him to sign relinquishment papers—had frustrated him. But her gesture to safeguard their baby had also endeared her to him, making him question whether suing for custody was really best.

      “Have you eaten?” he asked.

      She shook her head, wariness clearly visible in the way her hand trembled as she tried to put her key in the lock. “No, I came straight from work.”

      “I know it’s late, but I’d like to resolve this tonight.”

      After her two unsuccessful attempts to open the door, Hunter reached over her shoulder. Her cold fingers convulsed beneath his, but she finally surrendered her keys.

      Hunter unlocked and opened the door, already worrying about how she would respond to his demands. He didn’t want to upset her but couldn’t stand the pain of losing another child.

      The chronic self-doubts that had plagued him since meeting Ashley earlier that day made no more sense than the other things he had observed about her. Things he had no business noticing. She wasn’t a criminal, and he wasn’t acting in an official capacity. She was only a woman who had become a victim of circumstance. And he was only a man. Maybe that was the problem. When had he last been Hunter Morgan, the man and not the assistant district attorney? When had he last been with a woman who smelled so good, someone who made him realize how long it had been? Obviously, too damned long.

      Ashley stepped inside and flipped on the light. “Come in.”

      In the cramped entryway a miniature flute-shaped vase filled with tiny pink flowers sat on a small half-moon table. Prim and proper. Delicate. Like the woman.

      He noticed the way she arched her back as if easing the kinks from sitting long hours at a computer. “You look beat.”

      “I am, but I don’t want to put this off.”

      “I won’t take long, maybe thirty minutes. I’ll heat the burgers and we’ll talk while you eat.” He refused to acknowledge the connection he’d felt with her when she’d earlier tried to guard his child. He hadn’t felt anything like that…ever. He tried to push the thought from his mind. Thinking about it might convince him to go away, leave her in peace, forget he was going to be a father, something he couldn’t do. He dreaded what he was about to say to her, because it would be irrefutable evidence that he truly was the ruthless bastard everyone believed.

      She tried to hide a yawn behind her hand, then glanced once more at the sack. “We were so busy, I didn’t get lunch either and, even cold, food of any kind sounds beyond great. Thank you, Mr. Morgan, for bringing dinner.”

      “Hunter,” he said. “Call me Hunter.”

      Ashley studied his face a long moment as if trying to read him. “All right, Hunter. Let’s eat. You can have your say, then I’ve got something I need to tell you.”

      Her willingness, even eagerness to talk, came as a surprise. He would do his best to get this over with fast, because she looked as if she was about to collapse. He might be hard-nosed, but he wasn’t totally without feelings. Odd that it should be this woman who reminded him of that.

      Her obvious exhaustion made him wonder if maybe he should let her off the hook tonight and reschedule their meeting. But something he couldn’t grasp pushed him to settle things. If he didn’t know better, he would think it was fear. Fear that even though he had legal rights, she would turn this into a nasty, prolonged custody battle that would keep him from his child. Fear that she might disappear without a trace or miscarry as had happened before.

      Ashley directed him to a too-small kitchen decorated with bright sunflowers while she pulled her arms from her coat and tossed it over a chair. “How much do I owe you for dinner?”

      He found the microwave in a corner and popped the bag and all inside. “Don’t worry about it.”

      Ashley dug in her purse, then stuffed a five-dollar bill into his jacket pocket. “That should cover it.” She turned on her heel and opened an overhead cabinet.

      When she stretched on tiptoe to reach the glasses, Hunter moved behind her. “Here, let me get those for you.”

      She spun around and pressed against him in all the wrong places. Damned if it didn’t feel right.

      He lowered his arms on either side of her, watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest as he settled the glasses on the counter behind her. Her scent, a unique blend of sensuality and wholesomeness, swirled around him. She smelled damned good.