Tags:
United States,
Fiction,
Romance,
Literature & Fiction,
Contemporary,
Contemporary Romance,
African American,
multicultural,
african american romance,
Multicultural & Interracial,
multicultural romance
foster kids—she sought out the most troubled ones, the older kids, the ones nobody else wanted and showered them with love and copious amounts of discipline should they need it.
Almost as quickly as the smile appeared on Ivy’s face, it disappeared. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I want Katie to know I’m her father.”
“No.” The answer came swift and hard.
“What do you mean, no?” He sat up. He hadn’t known what to expect, but her answer surprised him.
“You don’t want to do this.”
“I know what I want. I don’t need you to explain it to me.”
“Why the change?” she asked.
“Because she’s my flesh and blood, that’s why. Because it’s the right thing to do.” Did he really need to explain this to her?
The waiter arrived with Ivy’s wine and his vodka. She lifted the glass to her lips and gulped down half of it.
She set the glass on the table with a measured motion. “And then what? When you get tired of the role—which we both know you will—you get to disappear? I don’t think so. You live in Atlanta, we live here. It’s not as if we’d run into each other.”
“I’m not going to beg you to recognize my parental rights.”
“There’s no proof she’s your daughter.”
Lucas sat back. “That’s your story now? We both know she is. You wouldn’t have told me she was if she wasn’t, so cut the bullshit.” He took a sip of his vodka and watched her over the rim of the tumbler. “I can play hard ball, Ivy, if that’s what you prefer. It seems first you kidnapped my sperm and now you want to hold my daughter hostage.”
Her eyes widened. “I did not kidnap your sperm!” she said in a fierce whisper.
As far as he was concerned, there was no other way to describe what she’d done. “What would you call it?”
“You handed it over.”
“Not willingly. The condom broke and you took what didn’t belong to you.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
She took a swallow of wine and pressed a hand to her forehead. He watched her dispassionately, insanely pleased she was beginning to unravel a little bit. At least he wasn’t the only one who felt out of sorts.
“Lucas, we both know this isn’t something you want. You’ve made it very clear that you never want to be married and you don’t want kids. It’s even in your book.”
“You read my book?”
“Cover to cover. Very enlightening.”
Her confession surprised him. “Did you read the part about a man’s rights? A father’s rights?”
“Yes, and according to your book, a man has a right to know. Well, you do now, and there’s nothing else for you to do.” She had it all figured out.
“Oh, there’s plenty for me to do. For instance,” he leaned forward, one hand on his knee holding the glass of liquor, “I could go to the press and spill the beans about this whole cover up. How the heiress to the Johnson fortune hid the illegitimate birth of her daughter from the biological father and allowed another man to raise his daughter without his knowledge. And how even now she denies him access to his child.”
Her family shunned publicity and guarded their privacy with incomparable ferocity. What would she do to prevent a scandal?
Ivy stilled and heat flooded her body, but she immediately rejected his threat. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” Unyielding hardness filled his face.
She sipped her wine. She would need another glass soon. “I’m not proud of what I did, but I don’t regret my decision.”
“I didn’t think you would. I imagine it’s not the Johnson way to have regrets.” He waited. “What will it be?” Now he was the one pushing her for an answer.
Her gaze swept the interior of the lounge as she weighed her answer. “You can see her, but you can’t tell her who you are yet.”
“Not gonna happen. We’re telling her.”
Her gaze fell back on him. “I don’t know your intentions.”
“My intentions are to get to know my daughter.”
“One minute you
Sarah Woodbury
June Ahern
John Wilson
Steven R. Schirripa
Anne Rainey
L. Alison Heller
M. Sembera
Sydney Addae
S. M. Lynn
Janet Woods