Daddy Devastating

“Who’s the woman?” Milo asked, staring holes into Julia.

As much as she distrusted Russell, Julia distrusted this one even more.

“Julia Howell,” Russell said.

Mercy, he’d used her real name. Not that it would matter who she was to these men. But she preferred that criminals not know who she was.

“She’s a friend,” Russell added, “and she was just leaving.” He nudged Julia in the direction of the front of the alley, and that was the only invitation Julia needed to get moving. She turned.

But didn’t get far.

Milo stepped in front of her, calmly reached out and took her purse. Did he intend to rob her? Julia didn’t care. She only wanted out of there. But he blocked her again when she tried to move.

“She’s not carrying a weapon,” Russell said.

But Milo didn’t take his word for it. The man dug through her purse and pulled out the three pictures inside. He glanced at the first two, shoved them back inside, but the third picture he held up.

It was the one of Lissa’s baby.

Julia could feel her pulse thicken and throb. The throbbing got worse, and she tried to snatch the photo from his hand. Milo held on and aimed his stony gaze at Russell.

“Is this one of the babies you’ve acquired?” Milo asked.

Julia started to speak up, to tell them that the child was her cousin’s, but then she remembered something Russell had asked before the goons showed up.

“Is this the kid the seller’s offering?”

Sweet heaven. What was going on here? Were these men involved with black-marketing babies? If so, they weren’t going to get their hands on Emily. She would kill them before she let that happen.

“No. It’s my kid,” Russell said. “Julia came here to tell me that I’m a daddy. Fate can sure be a kick in the butt, huh?”

Milo volleyed glances between the photo and Russell. “This is your child?”

There was skepticism in his tone, but Julia figured Milo had to see the resemblance. Baby Emily had the shape of her daddy’s mouth and his sandy brown hair. Of course, Emily looked sweet and innocent, whereas her father, well, he just looked dangerous. That’d been Julia’s first impression of him anyway, and he wasn’t doing anything to change that.

Russell turned, angling his body, so he could slip his arm around her waist. The corner of his mouth hitched into a cocky smile that only he and a rock star could have managed to pull off, and those dark brown eyes that’d been so intense just a second earlier, softened.

It was an act.

“Yeah, that’s my kid,” Russell said to Milo, but the fake smile was directed at her. “Julia and I have got some things to work out, but the old feelings are still there,” he added, all slow and sexy.

Then he leaned in. Too close. Julia was certain she stiffened and looked stunned. Because she did. But that didn’t stop Russell. He caught onto the back of her neck and hauled her to him.

He kissed her!

She didn’t fight him, though she considered it, but decided to wait and see where this was going. However, she got her pepper spray ready just in case.

He moved his mouth over hers as if this were something they did every day. He was good at the facade. Very good. And for just a split second Julia’s body reacted to the man who was doling out that one, hot kiss.

And, sadly, he was hot, too.

In that split second, she understood the attraction that had no doubt drawn Lissa to him. She hated it, especially since she was feeling it herself. But she understood it. Russell Gentry, with his butt-hugging jeans, cowboy boots and too-long hair, was the kind of man who reminded a woman that she was indeed a woman.

A reminder she never wanted to feel again.

She slapped her hand on his chest, pushed him away and glared at him. But Russell only chuckled.

“Julia’s upset that I missed the birth of our little one.” Russell stared at her when he spoke. His tone was all light, but the facade didn’t make it to his eyes. He was giving her a warning to stay quiet. “But she understands how important my work is. She knows I need to make a living. That’s why she’ll head out while we talk business.”

Milo made a grunting sound that could have meant anything, and he didn’t say a word for several moments. Julia felt every one of those moments in her held breath and racing heart.

“I have a better idea,” Milo finally responded, and there was sarcasm in both his tone and body language. “You spend the evening with your girlfriend and baby, and I’ll call you about another meeting.”

“This meeting is important,” Russell snapped. He was staring at Milo now, so she couldn’t see his face, but Julia didn’t need to see his expression to know Russell wasn’t pleased. Whatever this meeting was supposed to be about, it was obvious he didn’t want it postponed.

But she did.

Julia wanted out of there so she could get some answers and then call the police. It was entirely possible that Emily’s father would be arrested before the night was over.

“The meeting can wait,” Milo insisted. He motioned toward the ski-masked guy, who then darted out of sight. Milo turned to leave, as well, but Russell caught onto his arm with this left hand. The gun was still ready in his right.

Russell shook his head. “It can’t wait. I have people already onboard for this deal, and they aren’t into waiting. They want this to go down in the next twenty-four hours, or else they’ll pull out. All that money will be gone, including your sizeable cut.”

Milo looked down at the grip Russell had on his arm, and he didn’t say anything until Russell released it. “I’ll be in touch.” And with that calmly spoken exit line, Milo turned and strolled away.

Russell cursed, stared at her, and then cursed some more. “Lady, you have no idea what you’ve just done.”

Though he was furious and she didn’t know if he would act on that fury or not, Julia still hiked up her chin and met him eye-to-eye. “Oh, I have an idea. I stopped something illegal from happening.”

The stare turned to a glare, and he grabbed her arm. “Come on. Did you leave your silver Jag in the bar parking lot?”

Julia blinked but didn’t ask how he knew about her vehicle. He’d obviously noticed her earlier, when she was following him. Strange, he hadn’t given any indication that he’d known.

“Why do you ask about my car?” she demanded.

“Because we’re going to get in it, that’s why, and then we can have a serious chat about how you just screwed up everything I’ve worked so damn hard to put together.”

She didn’t even have to think about that proposal. “No, we’re not doing that. And I don’t care a rat’s you-know-what about screwing up any of your plans. I’m also not getting in a car with you, but we are going to get some things straight right here, right now.”

But where should she start? There were so many questions. So many concerns and fears. Julia started with the most recent one.

“You told that man, Milo, who I was. Why? Why not just give him a fake name the way you did? Now he knows who I am, and I would have preferred someone like that to not have any personal info about me.”

Russell continued to volley cautious glances at both ends of the alley, but he also huffed to let her know he wasn’t pleased about her not budging. “Milo saw your driver’s license in your purse.”

Of course. It was right there. Russ had looked at it himself, just minutes earlier. That took a little of the fight out of her.

“Unnecessary lies cause unnecessary suspicion,” he added. “Trust me, you don’t want to make a man like Milo more suspicious.”

He glanced at the sidewalk again and eased his gun into the waistband of his jeans. “And you don’t want to hang around in this alley. I’ll walk you to your car, and then I’ll watch you drive out of town. We can have the rest of this conversation over the phone.”

Russell Gentry expected her to leave. And what she wanted was nothing more than to get away from this man and whatever was happening—but not before she had the answers she’d come for.

“Did Lissa know you were a criminal when she slept with you?” she asked angrily.

This was supposed to be a quick trip to turn over custody of Emily, but Julia had no idea what to do now. This might end up in a custody battle, though she seriously doubted that Russell had a burning desire to raise a newborn.

He used the grip he had on her to get her moving, much as he’d done in the bar. “I told you I don’t remember your cousin, so I have no idea what she knew or didn’t know about me. Other than Lissa’s word on her deathbed, what proof do you have the baby is mine?”

“DNA proof,” she snapped.

That stopped him, and even though they were now on the sidewalk where Milo and his henchman would see them if they returned, Russell stared at her. “Impossible.”

She was too scared and angry to be smug. “No. The P.I. who followed you around San Saba took a coffee cup you used, and the lab compared it to Emily’s. There’s a ninety-nine-point-nine percent chance that you’re Emily’s biological father. And I stress the biological part, because anyone, including the likes of you, can father a child.”

He blew out a slow breath, and even though he didn’t dispute her claim, he didn’t jump to announce that he was indeed the birth father. There wasn’t just doubt in his eyes, there was total disbelief.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re trying to scam me, or what,” he said, his voice low and somewhat threatening. “And at this point, I really don’t care, other than to warn you that scamming me isn’t a good idea.”

“Why would I lie about something like this?” she asked, not waiting for an answer. “No one with any common sense would want you to be an innocent newborn’s father. If I had any doubts whatsoever about that, I don’t have them now. I know what you are, and I don’t want you anywhere near Emily or me.”

He stayed in deep thought for several moments. His forehead bunched up. His mouth slightly tightened. “Is the baby here in San Saba?”

Baby Emily was with a temporary nanny in Julia’s hotel room, but she had no intention of revealing that to Russell. It’d been a mistake to bring Emily. But Julia hadn’t known she would be walking into a vipers’ nest.

“She is here,” he insisted. And he cursed, the words even more vicious than before. “The baby is here in San Saba.” He kicked at a piece of broken beer bottle on the sidewalk, and he got her moving again in the direction of the bar—and the parking lot that was on the other side.

“It doesn’t matter where Emily is, you’re not going to see her,” Julia informed him. “You’re a criminal, and I’ll fight you with every breath in my body to stop you from getting anywhere near her.”

Of course, she hadn’t actually counted on becoming a permanent guardian to the child, but at the moment Julia didn’t think there was another option. Not for her, and definitely not for Emily. She could return to her San Antonio estate with Emily and lock them both away from Russell and his cohorts. With her money and connections, she could be sure to keep him away.

She hoped.

He didn’t say a word. Not when they passed the bar. Not when he hauled her into the parking lot and toward her car, which she’d parked directly beneath the lone security light. While they walked across the cracked concrete of the parking lot, he used the remote button on her keys to open the car door. He maneuvered her inside behind the wheel and shoved the key into the ignition.

She considered just driving away as fast as she could, but Julia first wanted to get something crystal clear. “You won’t challenge me for custody. Because no judge would give a baby to a criminal like you.”

The muscles in his jaw stirred. He opened his mouth, but before he could answer, something caught his attention. It caught Julia’s attention, too. It was a slow moving black car creeping past the parking lot. Because of the darkly tinted windows and the poor lighting on the street, Julia couldn’t see the driver, but she got a bad feeling that Milo or the ski-masked guy had returned.

“They’re watching you,” Russell mumbled, more to himself than her. And then he repeated it in the same tone as his profanity.

“What does that mean?” Julia was afraid of the answer.

He scrubbed his hand over his face and groaned. “It means Milo is suspicious.”

She didn’t think it was her imagination that he was carefully choosing his words and having a mental debate about what to say next. An angry mental debate.

“What I’m about to tell you,” he finally said, “you have to keep secret, and if you do tell anyone, you’ll be arrested for obstruction of justice. Got that?”

No. She didn’t get that. Julia shook her head. “What’s going on? “

“I’m not a criminal.” Another pause, and she could see the mental debate continue. “I’m Special Agent Russ Gentry, FBI.”

Julia’s mouth dropped open. “What—”

He reached inside and used the central latch on her door to unlock the passenger’s side. Before she could stop him he got inside.

“You just walked into the middle of a dangerous undercover investigation,” he snarled.

He pressed the control pad on her key chain, and the locks on the doors snapped shut. “You’ll be lucky, damn lucky, if I can get you out of this alive.”

Chapter Three

Russ watched the chain of emotions slide across her face. First total, undeniable skepticism. She didn’t believe him. Then, her eyebrows drew together. She eased her gaping mouth shut.

And then reached for her phone.

Russ would have bet a month’s paycheck that she would either do that or try to slap him again. The latter still might happen if she didn’t get the answers she wanted to this paternity issue. Russ wanted those answers, too but right now, both their butts were on the line. God knows who Milo had alerted about this wrinkle in their plan.

“If you tell anyone who I am,” he reminded her, “I’ll arrest you.”

She pushed his pointing finger aside. “And you can’t expect me to blindly accept what you’re saying without confirmation. I’m calling Sentron Securities. The owner will be discrete.”

Maybe. Maybe not. Russ knew of the owner, Burke Dennison. And Sentron seemed to be an above board operation. But he sure as hell didn’t want his cover blown.

He had to establish his identity so he could force Julia to cooperate. He could probably force her anyway, but it would take time and cause a scene. Julia was an heiress, and he couldn’t very well force her into protective custody without someone asking the wrong questions.

“Make your call to Burke Dennison,” Russ conceded, but he shot her another warning glare. “But put it on speaker and be very careful about what you say.”

She pressed some buttons on the cell, waited and stared hard at him.

“Burke, it’s Julia Howell,” she said, to the person who answered. She placed her purse on the console between them. “I need a favor, but this has to stay between us.”

“Absolutely.” The man’s voice was clear over the speaker. “What is it?”

“Russell Gentry might be a government employee. Could you check?”

“Contact Silas Duran at the FBI,” Russ said, in a loud-enough voice for Burke to hear. “He’ll brief you, then debrief you, and if you give the information you learn about me to anyone but Julia Howell, expect a full-scale investigation that will land your butt and Sentron in scalding hot water. Got that, Dennison?”

There was a pause, or more likely a hesitation from Dennison. “Give me a minute.” Finally, he said “I’ll call you back.”

“Start driving to your hotel,” Russ told Julia. He reached over to turn the key in the ignition. Not the brightest idea, since she batted his hand away and in doing so, his arm grazed her breast.

That earned him a glare. And it would have been better if she’d let out an outraged gasp, rather than that breathy feminine sound similar to the one she’d made after he kissed her.

That kiss had been a stupid idea, too.

Even though Julia Howell was perhaps a liar and a boatload of trouble, she was attractive, and damn it, his body wouldn’t let him forget that. She was making him hot. Well, she and the Texas heat. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back. Julia wasn’t immune to it, either, because she blotted the perspiration from her face.

Since they appeared to be staying put for a while, Russ got started on more damage control. “Who knew that you picked up Lissa’s baby from the San Antonio Maternity Hospital?”

She pulled back her shoulders. “Why?”

Man, she doesn’t give an inch. “Don’t make everything hard. Just answer the question. Who knew?”

Her shoulders went back even more, and she continued to glare at him. “SAPD, of course. And several members of the medical staff.”

Russ groaned. “Reporters?”

“No. I paid a lot of money to keep the details of Lissa’s story quiet. Her death was initially reported, and her name was listed in the newspapers, but I asked everyone to hold off mentioning the baby.”

“And they cooperated? “ he asked, stunned.

“Yes. I told them I didn’t want you to learn you were a father by hearing it on the news. I wanted to tell you in person.”

Well that was something, at least. Half the state didn’t know the truth about the baby, and that meant Russ could slant the info in his favor.

Russ took out his own phone to make another call to FBI headquarters in San Antonio. He asked to speak to a computer tech, and it didn’t take long for Denny Lord to come on the line. “I need you to doctor some files for Julia Elise Howell.” “What?” she snarled.

Russ ignored her. “People will be digging into her background, and I need you to plant information that she recently gave birth to a baby girl. Keep all details vague, as if she tried to keep the pregnancy hush-hush. Doctor a photo if necessary. Oh, and let me know if anyone does any deep searches on her.”

“What was that about?” she demanded, the moment he was off the phone.

“It was about making the story I told in the alley mesh with what Milo’s people will learn about you.” He only hoped it was enough. “By the way, it’s not a good idea for us to be sitting in this parking lot.”

“And I don’t think it’s a good idea to be driving to a hotel with you. I don’t trust you,” Julia snapped.

“I don’t trust you, either, since I think you’re trying to scam me. Or kill me from dehydration. Turn on the AC.”

“If I do that, it’ll only encourage you to stay. I don’t want you to stay. I want you to get out.” She blotted her upper lip again.

“Well, I’m staying until I get some clarification about why you chose me for this …well, whatever the hell it is.”

However, Russ rethought that. Julia had money, so why would she come after him with this ridiculous daddy claim? “But right now the scam is on the back burner. First we deal with the fallout from the meeting in the alley.”

“No. First we deal with your identity.”

“I’m an FBI agent,” Russ repeated, “and you’re messing with an investigation that’s taken me a long time to put together.” And it could all be in the toilet, thanks to a prissy San Antonio heiress and her baby charades.

“Does your investigation have to do with black-market infants?” she asked.

He laughed, but not with humor. The woman had nerve … or something. “I’m not discussing one detail of my investigation with you. You’ve already overheard way too much.”

“Or maybe I’ve overheard the dealings of two criminals meeting in an alley to discuss selling a baby.” She swiveled around and faced him. “Do you have a badge?”

It took him a moment to answer, because when she swiveled, her dress slid up a little, and he got a visual reminder of her great thighs.

“Not with me. It’s generally not a good idea to carry a badge while undercover. Bad guys tend to kill you if they find out you’re an FBI agent. Imagine that.” He didn’t bother to tone down the sarcasm.

With a mighty effort, he forced his attention off her thighs.

She tipped her head to the ceiling and groaned softly. Finally she started the car. She turned on the AC, but didn’t put the car into gear. “If you’re lying to me, somehow I will make you pay.”

Russ leaned into the AC vent and let the cold air spill over him. “Ditto, darlin’. Except, there is no if in what you’re saying. It’s a lie. I didn’t sleep with your cousin and I’m not her baby’s father.”

Julia put her face closer to her vent, as well. “The DNA says otherwise.”

Yeah? It did? Well, it did if she was telling the truth about that. Of course, that went back to motive. Why would she lie about something like that? He wasn’t rich, and he had no prospects of getting rich anytime soon.

And then it hit him.

Russ snapped back from the AC vent. “You said something about using my photo for facial recognition software. Where is that picture?”

“In my purse.” She tipped her head toward it.

He couldn’t get to it fast enough. Russ rifled through the gold bag and came up with three photos. One was of the baby, which he’d already seen. The other was a young twenty-something brunette who resembled Julia. Cousin Lissa, no doubt. But it was the final picture that grabbed his attention and sucker-punched him.

Suddenly, all of this became crystal clear.

“Let me guess,” Russ said. Though he wondered how he could speak with his jaw suddenly so tight. “Lissa called her baby’s daddy ‘RJ’?”

She shrugged. “Yes. So?”

Russ started to groan, curse and hit his fist against the console, but he knew none of those things would undo what had apparently happened nine months ago.

“RJ, as in Russell James,” Julia interjected. “As in you.”

“As in Robert Jason Gentry.” Those words had been even harder to speak than the others, and despite all the anger and frustration, he couldn’t help but feel the pain, too. It’d been months, and it was still there. Fresh and raw.

Russ figured it always would be.

“Who’s Robert Jason?” Julia asked, suddenly looking as dumbfounded as Russ felt.

He reached in his pocket and took out his wallet so he could extract the only photo he carried. It wasn’t standard procedure to carry personal photos while in a deep cover situation, but Russ hadn’t had the heart to take it out. He did now, and passed it to Julia.

She studied it, but Russ already knew every little detail. It’d been taken nearly two years ago, on a rare fishing trip they’d managed to schedule.

It was the last time he’d seen RJ.

“You have a twin brother,” Julia mumbled.

“Identical twin.” Which explained the match in the DNA. Identical twins didn’t have the same fingerprints, but the standard DNA test couldn’t distinguish one from the other.

She shook her head. “But your brother didn’t come up during Sentron’s search.”

“He wouldn’t have. RJ is … was black ops for the CIA. It would have taken more than Sentron or a traffic camera to find anything on him. All of his real records were sealed years ago.”

Her gaze slashed to his. “Was?”

“Was,” Russ repeated. And he repeated it again to give himself time to clear the lump in his throat. “He was killed on assignment nine months ago, probably just days after he met your cousin. He’s the reason I was in San Antonio at that bank. I was the beneficiary of his estate, and I had some paperwork to sign.”

“He’s dead,” Julia mumbled. But she continued to volley glances between the photo and him. “And you really are who you said you are—Russell Gentry?”

“Russ,” he said, automatically making the correction. Russell had been his dad’s name, and he wasn’t comfortable calling himself that.

The answer had no sooner left his mouth when her cell rang, and in the dimly lit car, he saw Sentron Securities flash on her caller ID screen.

Russ merely motioned for her to answer it.