condition—”
Her tone might have been shaky, but the ugly oath Anna muttered could not fail to
leave Antila in any doubt of what she thought of him. He eased her onto the bench.
“Tut-tut. Such language. When you are calm, we’ll talk. It might help if you put your
head between your knees.”
She’d have sworn at him again but doubted there were words adequate enough to drive
her point home. And she hated that he was right; ducking her head to her knees—not
that she had any choice the way his hand clasped the back of her neck to hold her
down—was helping with the nausea and her balance.
“You have no right—” she started furiously, pushing up into a more dignified position
when she was able.
“I alone define my own rights. Take that as a warning.”
“You have got to be insane.”
“That would depend on how you measure sanity, but the child is mine, and I will have
him.”
He still held her neck, his thumb tracing circles as if to soothe. Revolted, she threw
her arm up to dislodge him. “Over my dead body!”
Faster than she would have believed credible, his hand slid to her throat, his fingers
curling inward with enough bite to slow her pulse to a weak throb. “If necessary,
but not yet. Not until I have what I want.”
He’d replaced his sunglasses. She saw her own reflection in the darkened lenses. Eyes
wide, her lips parted in shock. She didn’t doubt him for a second, especially when
four Rottweiler-related thugs appeared at his side, their posture warning her that
one word from their boss, and they’d break her neck.
Surrendering, she jerked a nod. Immediately the pressure eased from her throat. She
swallowed as best as she was able.
Antila flicked his wrist, and the men retreated. Then he casually straightened his
suit cuffs as if she’d imagined the currents of violence, as if brute force and intimidation
was a common form of communication. That’s when she knew for sure she was in the presence
of stone-dead evil.
“The baby—my son—needs protection, which means so do you. Consider yourself very lucky,
Mrs. Marshall.”
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I do. I’ve got an ex-husband
who is into protection. You’d better pray you never meet him.”
A vein in Antila’s temple fattened and pulsed. “Nick Marshall’s interference already
irritates me. I suggest you find a way to dissuade his further interest.”
“And if you knew him at all, you’d realize it’s already too late. Once Nick makes
up his mind, he’s impossible to shift.”
Antila stretched his legs out in front and draped his arms across the back of the
bench as if he ruled the world. “If you care for him at all, I would recommend you
try. If he makes a move against me, I will erase him. Please do not blame me later
if you ignore this warning. I will allow no one to come between me and my child.”
A tremor coursed her skin. “What about me?” She gulped, not really caring. But if
anything happened to Nick? No way she’d survive the loss. They might be estranged,
but he was a part of her. She breathed for him. Always had. A truth from which she’d
never been able to hide. No doubt some bored deity’s laugh at her expense.
“Until the birth, you are under my full protection. This is why I am less than happy at the violence you have met.”
His knuckles whitened as he cured his fingers tight into the palm of his hand. No
he wasn’t happy. This madman took the attacks against her as a personal affront. How
ironic. She doubted she’d ever met another human being who simmered violence the way
Antila did. Except for Nick, but it had never been directed at her. “Oddly enough,
I don’t find that the least reassuring. What happens in five months’ time?” She cursed
the uncertainty breaking her voice. She needed to be strong. Confident.
“Present me with a son, and you will find my protection is
Her tone might have been shaky, but the ugly oath Anna muttered could not fail to
leave Antila in any doubt of what she thought of him. He eased her onto the bench.
“Tut-tut. Such language. When you are calm, we’ll talk. It might help if you put your
head between your knees.”
She’d have sworn at him again but doubted there were words adequate enough to drive
her point home. And she hated that he was right; ducking her head to her knees—not
that she had any choice the way his hand clasped the back of her neck to hold her
down—was helping with the nausea and her balance.
“You have no right—” she started furiously, pushing up into a more dignified position
when she was able.
“I alone define my own rights. Take that as a warning.”
“You have got to be insane.”
“That would depend on how you measure sanity, but the child is mine, and I will have
him.”
He still held her neck, his thumb tracing circles as if to soothe. Revolted, she threw
her arm up to dislodge him. “Over my dead body!”
Faster than she would have believed credible, his hand slid to her throat, his fingers
curling inward with enough bite to slow her pulse to a weak throb. “If necessary,
but not yet. Not until I have what I want.”
He’d replaced his sunglasses. She saw her own reflection in the darkened lenses. Eyes
wide, her lips parted in shock. She didn’t doubt him for a second, especially when
four Rottweiler-related thugs appeared at his side, their posture warning her that
one word from their boss, and they’d break her neck.
Surrendering, she jerked a nod. Immediately the pressure eased from her throat. She
swallowed as best as she was able.
Antila flicked his wrist, and the men retreated. Then he casually straightened his
suit cuffs as if she’d imagined the currents of violence, as if brute force and intimidation
was a common form of communication. That’s when she knew for sure she was in the presence
of stone-dead evil.
“The baby—my son—needs protection, which means so do you. Consider yourself very lucky,
Mrs. Marshall.”
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I do. I’ve got an ex-husband
who is into protection. You’d better pray you never meet him.”
A vein in Antila’s temple fattened and pulsed. “Nick Marshall’s interference already
irritates me. I suggest you find a way to dissuade his further interest.”
“And if you knew him at all, you’d realize it’s already too late. Once Nick makes
up his mind, he’s impossible to shift.”
Antila stretched his legs out in front and draped his arms across the back of the
bench as if he ruled the world. “If you care for him at all, I would recommend you
try. If he makes a move against me, I will erase him. Please do not blame me later
if you ignore this warning. I will allow no one to come between me and my child.”
A tremor coursed her skin. “What about me?” She gulped, not really caring. But if
anything happened to Nick? No way she’d survive the loss. They might be estranged,
but he was a part of her. She breathed for him. Always had. A truth from which she’d
never been able to hide. No doubt some bored deity’s laugh at her expense.
“Until the birth, you are under my full protection. This is why I am less than happy at the violence you have met.”
His knuckles whitened as he cured his fingers tight into the palm of his hand. No
he wasn’t happy. This madman took the attacks against her as a personal affront. How
ironic. She doubted she’d ever met another human being who simmered violence the way
Antila did. Except for Nick, but it had never been directed at her. “Oddly enough,
I don’t find that the least reassuring. What happens in five months’ time?” She cursed
the uncertainty breaking her voice. She needed to be strong. Confident.
“Present me with a son, and you will find my protection is
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