Expecting Trouble

A clear image formed in her mind. Of that floor. Of Cal on top of her to protect her from the explosion. It wasn’t exactly pleasurable. Okay, it was. But it wasn’t supposed to be.

Not then.

Not now.

She’d already done enough damage to Cal’s career without her adding unwanted sexual attraction that could never go beyond the fantasy stage.

He opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t get past the first syllable. There was a knock at the door, the sudden sound shattering the silence.

Cal reacted fast. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a handgun from a shoulder holster. He motioned for her to move out of the path of the door.

Jenna raced across the room and took a knife from the cutlery drawer. It probably wouldn’t give them much protection, but she didn’t intend to let Cal fight alone. Especially since the battle was hers.

With his hands gripped around his weapon, he eased toward the door. Every inch of his posture and demeanor was vigilant. Ready. Lethal.

Cal didn’t use the peephole to look outside, but instead peered out the corner of the window.

He cursed softly.

“It’s Holden Carr.”

Chapter Four

This was not how Cal had planned his visit.

It was supposed to be in and out quickly. He was only on a fact-finding mission so he could get out of hot water with the director. Instead, he’d walked right into a vipers’ nest. And one viper was way too close.

Holden Carr was literally pounding on Jenna’s door.

Cal glanced back at her. With a butcher knife in a white-knuckled death grip, Jenna was standing guard in front of the nursery. She was pale, trembling and nibbling on her bottom lip. Bam! There were his protective instincts.

There was no way he could let her face Holden Carr alone. From everything Cal had read about the man, Holden was as dangerous as Paul, his former business partner. And Paul had been ready to commit murder to get his hands on Jenna’s estate.

“Go to your daughter,” Cal instructed while Holden continued to pound.

She shook her head. “You might need backup.”

He lifted his eyebrow. She wasn’t exactly backup material. Jenna Laniere might have been temporarily living in a starter apartment in a quaint Texas cowboy town, but her blue blood and pampered upbringing couldn’t have prepared her for the likes of Holden Carr.

“I’ll handle this,” Cal let her know, and he left no room for argument.

She mumbled something, but stepped back into the nursery.

With his SIG Sauer drawn, Cal stood to the side of the door. It was standard procedure—bad guys often like to shoot through doors. But Holden probably didn’t have that in mind. It was broad daylight and with the door-pounding, he was probably drawing all kinds of attention to himself, but Cal didn’t want to take an unnecessary risk.

Once he was in place, he reached over. Unlocked the door. And eased it open.

Cal jammed his gun right in Holden’s face.

Holden’s dust-gray eyes sliced in the direction of the SIG Sauer. There was just a flash of shock and concern before he buried those reactions in the cool composure of his Nordic pale skin and his Viking-size body. He was decked out in a pricy camel-colored suit that probably cost more than Cal made in a month.

“I’m Holden Carr and I need to see Jenna,” he announced.

Cal didn’t lower his gun. In fact, he jabbed it against Holden’s right cheek. “Oh, yeah? About what?”

“A private matter.”

“It’s not so private. From what I’ve heard you’re threatening her. It takes a special kind of man to threaten a woman half his size. Of course, you’re no stranger to violence, are you? Did you murder Paul Tolivar?”

Holden couldn’t quite bury his anger fast enough. It rippled through his jaw muscles and his eyes. “Who the hell are you?”

“Cal Rico. I’m Jenna’s…friend.” But he let his tone indicate that he was the man who wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if Holden tried to barge his way in. “Anything you have to say to Jenna, you can say to me. I’ll make sure she gets the message.”

“The message is she can’t hide from me forever.” Holden enunciated each word. “I know she had a baby. A little girl named Sophie Elizabeth. Born three months ago. That means the child is Paul’s.”

It didn’t surprise Cal that Holden knew all of this, but what else did he know? “Paul, the man you murdered,” Cal challenged.

There was another flash of anger. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I didn’t murder him. His housekeeper did. She was secretly working for a rebel faction who had issues with some of Paul’s businesses.”

“Right. The housekeeper.” Cal made sure he sounded skeptical. He’d already heard the theory of the runaway housekeeper known only as Mary. “I don’t suppose she confessed.”

Holden had to get his teeth apart before he could respond. “She fled the estate after she killed him. No one’s been able to find her.”

“Convenient. Now, mind telling me how you came by this information about Jenna’s child?”

“Yes. I mind.”

Cal hadn’t expected him to volunteer that, since it almost certainly involved illegal activity. “Hmmm. I smell a wire tap. That kind of illegal activity can get you arrested. Your dual citizenship won’t do a thing to protect you, either. If you hightail it back to Monte de Leon, you can be extradited.”

Though that wasn’t likely. Still, Cal made a note to discover the source of that possible tap.

Holden looked past him, and because they were so close, Cal saw the man’s eyes light up. Cal didn’t have to guess why. Holden was aiming his attention in the direction of the nursery door and had probably spotted Jenna. He tried to come inside, but Cal blocked the door with his foot.

“She’ll have to talk to me sooner or later,” Holden insisted. “Call off your guard dog,” he yelled at Jenna.

“What do you want?” Jenna asked. Cal silently groaned when he heard her walking closer. She really didn’t take orders very well.

“I want you to carry out Paul’s wishes. In his will, he named me guardian of his children. He didn’t have any children at the time he wrote that, but he does now.”

“You only want my daughter so you can control me,” Jenna tossed out.

Holden didn’t deny it. “I’ve petitioned the court for custody,” he said.

Jenna stopped right next to Cal, and she reached across his body to open the door wider. “No judge would give you custody.”

“Maybe not in this country, but in Monte de Leon, the law will be on Paul’s side. Even in death he’s still a powerful man with powerful friends.”

“Sophie’s an American,” Jenna pointed out. “Born right here in Texas.”

“And you think that’ll stop Paul’s wishes from being carried out? It won’t. If the Monte de Leon court deems you unfit—and that can easily happen with the right judge—then the court will petition for the child to be brought to her father’s estate.”

“Sophie is not Paul’s child.” She looked Holden right in the eye when she told that lie.

But Holden only smiled. “I’ve seen pictures of her. She looks just like him. Dark brown hair. Blue eyes.”

Pictures meant he had surveillance along with taps. This was not looking good.

Cal could hear Jenna’s breath speed up. Fear had a smell, and she was throwing off that scent, along with motherly protection vibes. But that wouldn’t do anything to convince this SOB that he didn’t have a right to claim her child.

From the corner of his eye, Cal spotted a movement. There was a tall redheaded woman with a camera. She was about forty yards away across the street and was clicking pictures of this encounter. Gwen Mitchell no doubt. And she wasn’t the only woman there. He also spotted a slender blonde making her way up the steps to Jenna’s apartment.

“That’s Helena Carr,” Jenna provided.

Holden’s sister and business partner. Great. Now there was an added snake to deal with, and it was all playing out in front of a photographer with questionable motives. Cal could already hear himself having to explain why he was in small-town America with his standard-issue SIG Sauer smashed against a civilian’s face.

“This meeting is over,” Cal insisted. He lowered his gun, but he kept it aimed at Holden’s right kneecap.

“It’ll be over when Jenna admits that her daughter is Paul’s,” Holden countered.

“We just want the truth.” That from Helena, who was a feminine version of her brother without the Vikingwide shoulders. Her stare was different, too. Nonthreatening. Almost serene. “After all, we know she slept with Paul, and the timing is perfect to have produced Sophie.”

Cal hoped he didn’t regret this later, but there was one simple way to diffuse this. “I have dark brown hair, blue eyes. Just like Sophie’s.” He hoped, since he hadn’t actually seen the little girl.

Helena blinked and gave him an accusing stare. Holden cursed. “Are you saying you’re the father?” he asked.

“No,” Jenna started to say. But Cal made sure his voice drowned her out.

“Yes,” Cal snarled. “I’m Sophie’s father.”

“Impossible,” Holden snarled back.

Cal gave him a cocky snort. “There is nothing impossible about it. I’m a man. Jenna’s a woman. Sometimes men and women have sex, and that results in a pregnancy.”

And just in case Jenna was going to say something to contradict him, Cal gave her a quick glance. She was staring at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“You won’t mind taking a DNA test,” Holden insisted.

“Tell you what. You send the request for a DNA sample through your foreign judge and let it trickle its way through our American judicial system. Then I’ll get back to you with an answer.”

Of course, the answer would be no.

Still, that wouldn’t stop Holden from trying. If he controlled Jenna’s child, then he would ultimately have access to a vast money-laundering enterprise. Then he could fully operate his own family business and the one he’d inherited from Paul.

“This isn’t over.” Holden aimed the threat at Jenna as he stalked away.

Cal was about to shut the door and call his director so he could start some damage control, but Helena eased her hand onto the side to stop it from closing.

“I’m sorry about this.” Helena sounded sincere. Or else she’d rehearsed it enough to fake sincerity. Maybe this was the brother-sister version of good cop/bad cop. “I just want the truth so I can make sure Paul’s child inherits what she deserves.”

Jenna didn’t even address that. “Can you stop your brother?”

Cal carefully noted Helena’s reaction. She glanced over her shoulder. First, at her brother who was getting inside their high-end car. Then at the photographer.

“Could I step inside for just a moment?” That sincerity thing was there again.

But Cal wasn’t buying it.

Jenna apparently did. With the butcher knife still clutched in her hand, she stepped back so Helena could enter.

“That reporter out there might have some way to eavesdrop on us,” Helena explained. “She has equipment and cameras with her.”

Maybe. But Cal hadn’t seen anything to suggest long-range eavesdropping equipment. Still, it was an unnecessary risk to keep talking in plain view. Lipreading was a possibility. Plus, anything said here could ultimately put Jenna in more danger and get him in deeper trouble with the director. Not that her paternity claims were exactly newsworthy, but he didn’t want to see his and Jenna’s names and photos splashed in a newspaper.

“Well?” Cal prompted when Helena continued to look around and didn’t say anything else.

“Where do I start?” She seemed to be waiting for an invitation to sit down, but Cal didn’t offer. Helena sighed. “My brother is determined to carry out Paul’s wishes. They’ve been friends since childhood when our parents moved to Monte de Leon to start businesses there. Holden was devastated when Paul was killed.”

Cal shrugged. “Paul isn’t the father of Jenna’s child, so there’s no wish to carry out.”

The last word had hardly left his mouth when he heard a soft whimpering cry sound coming from the nursery.

“Sophie,” Jenna mumbled.

“Go to her,” Cal advised. “I’ll finish up here.”

Jenna hesitated. But not for long—the baby’s cries were getting louder.

“I do need to talk to Jenna,” Helena continued. She opened her purse and rummaged through it. “Do you have a pen? I want to leave my cell number so she can contact me.”

That was actually a good idea. He might be able to get approval to trace Helena’s calls and obtain a record of her past ones.

Cal didn’t have a pen with him, and he looked around before spotting one and a notepad on the kitchen countertop. He got it and glanced into the nursery while he was on that side of the room. Jenna was leaning over the crib changing Sophie’s diaper.

“Someone was following Jenna.” Cal walked back to Helena and handed her the pen and notepad.

She dodged his gaze, took the pen and wrote down her number. “You mean that reporter across the street? She approached us when we drove up and said she was doing an article about Paul. She said she recognized Holden from newspaper pictures.”

Cal shook his head. “Not her. Someone else. A man.” He watched for a reaction.

Helena shrugged and handed him the notepad. “You think I know something about it?”

“Do you? The man’s name is Anthony Salazar.”

Her eyes widened. “Salazar,” she repeated on a rise of breath. “You’ve seen him here in Willow Ridge?”

“I’ve seen him,” Cal confirmed. “Now, mind telling me how you know him?”

Her breath became even more rapid, and she glanced around to make sure it was safe to talk. “Anthony Salazar is evil,” she said in a whisper.

He caught her arm when she turned to leave. “And you know this how?”

She opened her mouth but stopped. “Are you wearing a wire?” she demanded.

“No, and I’m not going to strip down to prove it. But you are going to give me answers.”

Her chin came up. Since he had hold of her arm, he could feel that she was trembling. “You’re trying to make me say something incriminating.”

Yeah. But for now, Cal would settle for the truth. “What’s your connection to Salazar? Does he work for your brother? For you?”

She reached behind her and opened the door. “He worked for Paul.”

He hadn’t expected that answer. “Paul’s dead.”

“But his estate isn’t.”

“What does that mean?” Cal asked cautiously.

“Yesterday was the first anniversary of Paul’s death. Early this morning his attorney delivered e-mails of instruction to people named in his will. I saw the list. Salazar got one.”

Cal paused a moment to give that some thought. “Are you saying Paul reached out from the grave and hired this man to do something to Jenna?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Helena turned and delivered the rest from over her shoulder as she started down the steps. “Neither Holden nor I can call off Salazar. No one can.”

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