Then There Were Three. Jeanie London

last night, he wouldn’t be standing here, raw-edged and ready to explode. He might have had self-control on his side when he’d opened the door to his office and stepped into a minefield.

      Megan wasn’t helping. She waited, so stoic, as if she’d known she’d have to face the music and was determined to take whatever he dished out. As if she felt she deserved it.

      And she did. Every damned bit.

      “Did you think I wouldn’t help?” He wanted an answer. “Or did you think I wasn’t good enough for you?”

      Good enough to sneak around with, but not good enough to stand beside when life got demanding.

      “Neither, Nic. I wasn’t thinking,” she said simply. “Not for myself. That’s the point. There was never any question you’d do the honorable thing, none at all. I knew you’d help in any way I needed you. I thought you might even suggest marriage.”

      Another sucker punch. “That wasn’t good enough.”

      She shook her head, sending dark waves trailing over her shoulders. “What I wanted had nothing to do with it. You have every reason in the world not to believe me, but I’m being entirely honest when I say it wasn’t about you at all. I was in love with you. I knew how hard you worked. I respected you for it. You made me feel spoiled and selfish by comparison. But I also knew how much you wanted a future, a chance to go to college. You didn’t need another family to support.”

      “That wasn’t your call to make.”

      “No, it wasn’t. But I didn’t realize that at first. I just reacted. You would have been able to handle the situation. I didn’t know how. I relied on my parents to make the decisions like I always had. What they said made sense at the time. They had their reasons—”

      “Don’t bother telling me about your parents’ reasons. I don’t want to hear about how I was your dirty little secret.”

      She paled in response to that verbal punch, her grip tightening on the cup until he thought the lid might pop off.

      He gave a harsh laugh. “I never even questioned why you didn’t let me pick you up from your house. I suppose that should have been my first clue—”

      “I’m so sorry, Nic.” Her words spilled out, a broken whisper. She let her gaze slide from his, couldn’t face him. “I am so, so sorry. If I could take everything back, I would. I never meant to hurt you.”

      He couldn’t open his mouth. Simply didn’t trust himself. The past might have happened years ago, but the anger poisoning him was all about right now, about wanting to deny he’d ever given her that much of him.

      “I have no excuses.” She shrugged, such a helpless gesture. “What I did was wrong on every level. I knew my parents didn’t approve of you, but I wasn’t strong enough to stand up to them, so I sneaked around behind their backs because I wanted to be with you. It’s really that simple. I handled my pregnancy no different. I listened to what I was told and let it make sense.”

      She finally let go of the cup. When she faced him again, he saw resolve in her expression, and resignation.

      “For the record,” she said, “I don’t blame my parents. Not for my choices. They did what they felt was right. Whether I understand or respect their reasoning doesn’t take away the fact I was responsible. What I did was unfair to you and our daughter. If I’d have been thinking, I might have realized it. But I panicked. By the time I’d figured everything out, I’d made a huge mess and didn’t know how to fix it.”

      Even the hurt he felt didn’t touch the anger. And her apologies didn’t take anything away, didn’t explain why he was only finding out he had a daughter when she was nearly grown.

      He brought the cup to his lips, more for something to do than the cooling coffee. At this stage of the game, caffeine wasn’t going to do a damned thing except wind him even tighter.

      Nic was so aware of her standing across from him, that ridiculous neon bag by her feet. He heard what she said, but nothing was processing. He didn’t understand, was almost disbelieving that the girl who’d not only given him her virginity but who’d lain in his arms and claimed to love him would have handled things this way. God, it was like he was eighteen years old all over again.

      That made him angry, too.

      “Even if I wanted to believe you,” he finally said, “how does any of that translate into now? Every day you woke up with our daughter, every time you took her on a plane and moved her from one country to another, you chose to keep her a secret.”

      “I did. And that was intentional, Nic, damage control, because the choices I made impacted Violet.”

      “I’d say so.”

      “If you’ll give me a chance to explain, this part might actually make sense.”

      He sincerely doubted it, but nodded anyway.

      “The minute Violet was born, I knew I couldn’t go through with the adoption. Everyone tried to reason with me—my parents, the people at the maternity home. Everyone said it was a knee-jerk reaction to giving birth. But it wasn’t. It was the first time in my entire life I actually thought for myself. I heard what everyone was saying, but I knew what I wanted. Strangers were not going to raise my daughter. That’s about all I knew. I didn’t have a clue how I was going to care for her.

      “The agency is a reputable one. It’s a religious not-for-profit that operates in several disadvantaged locations around the world, places with high mortality rates from poverty and disease. This agency places children with stable families wherever they can find them. The maternity homes are for mothers who’ve lost husbands or whose families can’t afford to feed them. Sometimes these homes are the only chance an infant gets to survive. They really do a lot of good work.”

      Keeping him in the dark was good work?

      “Your mother took you out of the country so you could circumvent the law about getting my permission for the adoption?” He wasn’t sure why he asked when the answer was obvious. Maybe he simply needed to hold her accountable in some lame way, to feel the illusion of some control.

      She nodded, that haunted look on her face not making him feel any better. “Since the agency isn’t based in the States, the legalities are easier to get around. But if I had admitted who Violet’s father was, you’d have been contacted. That’s the way it works to make adoption legal.”

      She didn’t get a chance to continue when a woman with small kids passed, her stroller bumping Megan’s bag. The table rocked and Nic grabbed his coffee.

      “So sorry,” the mother said, correcting the stroller one-handed while hanging on to a toddler with the other.

      Megan smiled automatically, nudging her bag farther under the table with a foot. “No problem. You’ve got your hands full.”

      The mother rolled her eyes and swept past with a smile. Megan watched her vanish into the crowd, looking thoughtful. She lifted the cup to her lips and took her first sip.

      “It took me a long time to get on my feet, Nic. I had no job, no way to support us. I needed to get through college so I had some employable skill.”

      “Your parents?”

      She only shook her head. He didn’t ask, although now that he thought about it, Violet had been his first clue all wasn’t well in that quarter. She’d told him how she’d been stalking him at his condo before following him to Big Mike’s tattoo place. If she’d had a relationship with the Bells, she probably wouldn’t have been burning the night at Insane, Ink. She might have told Jurado to call them when she’d been picked up.

      Nic wasn’t sure what he thought about that, except to admit he was surprised. “How’d you manage?”

      “The maternity home let me stay for the first few months. They weren’t happy I reneged on my end of the deal, but they are in the business of helping people. They