Read Online In His Brother's Place by Elizabeth Lane - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elizabeth Lane
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take your time. Make sure the boy’s really Justin’s before you take any legal steps. For all you know, the mother could have cooked up this scheme to take advantage of your family.”
“Take advantage?” Jordan had to rein himself in to keep from decking the man. “She never contacted me at all—I’m the one who tracked her down. When I did, she showed me the door. She only agreed to come here after a gang fight broke out within shooting distance of her apartment. Is that what you’d call taking advantage?”
The lawyer frowned. “I can understand your sympathy for her. But shouldn’t you at least have a DNA test done?”
“To prove what I already know?”
“It never hurts to be sure.”
Jordan thought of Angie and how it would wound her if he demanded proof of Lucas’s paternity. “I am sure,” he said. “Everything adds up. The boy’s a Cooper. Case closed.”
“What does your mother have to say about all this?”
“That remains to be seen.”
Jordan felt a shadow of misgiving as he spoke. Sooner or later the issue of his mother would have to be faced. Meredith Cooper was in declining health, but she was of sound mind and still the legal head of the family. The future could hinge on her acceptance of Lucas—and Angie, whom she still blamed for Justin’s death. Since Jordan had vowed to spare her the truth about that tragic night, he’d be walking a tightrope.
That was the trouble with secrets. They had a way of surfacing right when they could do the most damage.
“Jordan, be a sweetie and steer me to a margarita. I’ve got a powerful thirst.” Whitney’s throaty voice broke into his thoughts. This time Jordan welcomed her demand. He’d gotten sucked into a conversation that should’ve taken place behind closed doors. Next time he met Len, he’d stick to a less volatile subject.
As he guided Whitney toward the bar, he caught a glimpse of Angie. She was standing on the far side of the room chatting with a cluster of their old friends. Jordan knew she’d been nervous about meeting them again, but she seemed to be managing fine.
Trevor’s hand rested possessively at the small of her back. The bastard hadn’t wasted any time making his move. But that was none of his business, Jordan reminded himself. Angie was her own woman. He had no right to dictate her personal life.
Leaning close, Whitney blew an alcohol-scented breath into his ear. She’d be expecting to stay the night, of course. But he wasn’t in the mood for going through the motions, which was all their relationship had amounted to lately. Freeing her to find someone else would be a kindness, Jordan told himself. But that didn’t mean it would be easy. He didn’t like hurting people. He’d done enough of that in the past.
Now, with Angie and Lucas here, that past was coming back to haunt him.
* * *
Angie woke with a start. After an instant’s confusion, she realized she was in the den on the sofa. The lighted digits at the base of the big-screen TV showed the time—11:25 p.m.
It all came back to her now—how she’d excused herself from the party at nine-thirty and gone to make sure Carlos had put Lucas to bed as instructed. She’d found the den dark, the TV turned off and the snacks cleared away.
After a long evening in high heels, her weary feet had demanded a rest. Kicking off her red stiletto pumps, she’d curled up among the cushions. She’d planned to return to the party in a few minutes. Instead, she’d fallen sound asleep.
Gathering her shoes, she tiptoed out of the room. The party was over, the house dark and quiet. The only sign of life was a faint light from the hallway that led to the master suite, where Jordan slept.
Resolving not to disturb him, Angie crossed the darkened parlor. She had just reached the staircase when a woman’s angry voice shrilled down the corridor.
“This isn’t about us, Jordan. It’s about her! I was watching you tonight! You couldn’t take your eyes off that
“Take advantage?” Jordan had to rein himself in to keep from decking the man. “She never contacted me at all—I’m the one who tracked her down. When I did, she showed me the door. She only agreed to come here after a gang fight broke out within shooting distance of her apartment. Is that what you’d call taking advantage?”
The lawyer frowned. “I can understand your sympathy for her. But shouldn’t you at least have a DNA test done?”
“To prove what I already know?”
“It never hurts to be sure.”
Jordan thought of Angie and how it would wound her if he demanded proof of Lucas’s paternity. “I am sure,” he said. “Everything adds up. The boy’s a Cooper. Case closed.”
“What does your mother have to say about all this?”
“That remains to be seen.”
Jordan felt a shadow of misgiving as he spoke. Sooner or later the issue of his mother would have to be faced. Meredith Cooper was in declining health, but she was of sound mind and still the legal head of the family. The future could hinge on her acceptance of Lucas—and Angie, whom she still blamed for Justin’s death. Since Jordan had vowed to spare her the truth about that tragic night, he’d be walking a tightrope.
That was the trouble with secrets. They had a way of surfacing right when they could do the most damage.
“Jordan, be a sweetie and steer me to a margarita. I’ve got a powerful thirst.” Whitney’s throaty voice broke into his thoughts. This time Jordan welcomed her demand. He’d gotten sucked into a conversation that should’ve taken place behind closed doors. Next time he met Len, he’d stick to a less volatile subject.
As he guided Whitney toward the bar, he caught a glimpse of Angie. She was standing on the far side of the room chatting with a cluster of their old friends. Jordan knew she’d been nervous about meeting them again, but she seemed to be managing fine.
Trevor’s hand rested possessively at the small of her back. The bastard hadn’t wasted any time making his move. But that was none of his business, Jordan reminded himself. Angie was her own woman. He had no right to dictate her personal life.
Leaning close, Whitney blew an alcohol-scented breath into his ear. She’d be expecting to stay the night, of course. But he wasn’t in the mood for going through the motions, which was all their relationship had amounted to lately. Freeing her to find someone else would be a kindness, Jordan told himself. But that didn’t mean it would be easy. He didn’t like hurting people. He’d done enough of that in the past.
Now, with Angie and Lucas here, that past was coming back to haunt him.
* * *
Angie woke with a start. After an instant’s confusion, she realized she was in the den on the sofa. The lighted digits at the base of the big-screen TV showed the time—11:25 p.m.
It all came back to her now—how she’d excused herself from the party at nine-thirty and gone to make sure Carlos had put Lucas to bed as instructed. She’d found the den dark, the TV turned off and the snacks cleared away.
After a long evening in high heels, her weary feet had demanded a rest. Kicking off her red stiletto pumps, she’d curled up among the cushions. She’d planned to return to the party in a few minutes. Instead, she’d fallen sound asleep.
Gathering her shoes, she tiptoed out of the room. The party was over, the house dark and quiet. The only sign of life was a faint light from the hallway that led to the master suite, where Jordan slept.
Resolving not to disturb him, Angie crossed the darkened parlor. She had just reached the staircase when a woman’s angry voice shrilled down the corridor.
“This isn’t about us, Jordan. It’s about her! I was watching you tonight! You couldn’t take your eyes off that
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