Daddy Devastating Read online

  Her explanation prompted more profanity and a dozen more questions, but Russ started with a simple one. “Why go through the trouble to look for me?”

  “Because of Lissa,” she said, as if the answer were obvious. “Lissa gave me your photograph.”

  Russ was sure he looked as pole-axed as he felt. “Who the hell is Lissa?”

  For the first time since they’d started this little wrestling match and confusing conversation, Julia relaxed. At least, she went limp, as if she’d huffed all the breath right out of her. “My first cousin, Lissa McIntyre.” Then her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you don’t remember her?”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” Russ answered, honestly.

  Her muscles went stiff again, and the remainder of the fear faded from her expression. It was replaced by a healthy dose of anger. “Let me refresh your memory. San Antonio. Last December. You met Lissa at a downtown bar, and after a night of drinking you went into one of those photo booths on the Riverwalk and had your picture taken.”

  Russ went through the past months. Yeah, it was possible he’d met a woman in a bar. But he certainly didn’t remember anybody named Lissa, and he absolutely didn’t remember taking a picture in a photo booth.

  “Why are you here?” he asked, pressing her further.

  “Because Lissa wanted me to find you.” Julia took a deep breath. “She’s dead. She was injured in the hostage standoff at the San Antonio Maternity Hospital two weeks ago. The doctors tried to save her but couldn’t.” Her voice broke, and tears sprang into her blue eyes. “She used her dying breath to ask me to find you.”

  He’d heard about the hostage situation, of course, it’d been all over the news. And he was also aware there’d been several deaths. But that had nothing to do with him.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Russ said, because he didn’t know what else to say. This still wasn’t making any sense. “But why the hell would your cousin want you to find me?”

  She stared at him. “You don’t remember?”

  “Remember what?”

  There was some movement at the back end of the alley. A shadow maybe. Maybe something worse. So Russ eased his hand into the slide holster in the back waistband of his jeans.

  She snatched the purse from beneath her arm and practically ripped the bag open. “Look, I know Lissa was probably a one-night stand, but you have to remember her.”

  Julia pulled out a photo of an attractive brunette and practically stuck it in his face. Russ glanced at it, just a glance, and he turned his attention back to that damn shadow.

  Was it Milo?

  Or had one of the working girls grown a conscience and called the cops?

  Those were the best-case scenarios. But Russ had a feeling this wasn’t a best-case scenario kind of moment. He took out his gun and kept it behind his back.

  “Well?” Julia demanded. If she noticed the gun, she didn’t have a reaction—which meant she almost certainly hadn’t seen it. “Do you remember Lissa?”

  That was an easy answer. “No. Why should I?”

  She made a sound, not of anger but outrage, and grabbed another photo from her purse. Russ glanced at it, too, and saw the baby. A newborn, swaddled in a pink blanket. He froze.

  Oh, this was suddenly getting a lot clearer. Or was it? Was this hot brunette really a black-market baby seller? If so, she certainly didn’t look the part.

  “Did Milo send you?” he snarled. “Is this the kid the seller’s offering? Because it’s not supposed to be a girl.”

  Julia went still again. Very still. And Russ risked looking at her so he could see what was going on in her eyes.

  “Seller?” she repeated. There was a lot of emotion in that one word. Confusion, fear and a boatload of concern. “No. The newborn in the picture is Lissa’s.”

  “I don’t understand.” Was she trying to sell her own cousin’s kid?

  “Well, you should understand, because you’re the baby’s father.”

  What?! It felt as if someone had slugged him in the gut. “Father?” Russ managed to say, though it didn’t have any sound to it.

  Ah, hell.

  Russ’s stomach dropped to the cracked dirty concrete, but that was the only reaction he managed. There certainly wasn’t time to question Julia about what she’d just said about him being a father.

  The movement at the back of the alley grabbed his full attention. Because the shadow moved.

  So did Russ.

  He shoved the photos back into her purse and gave Julia the keychain with the pepper spray. She might need it. He hooked his left arm around her, pushing her behind him.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. Julia looked around, and no doubt saw the figure dressed in dark clothes and wearing a ski mask.

  Russ took aim.

  But it was too late.

  Another man stepped into the alley from the front sidewalk. He lifted his gun. So did the ski mask wearing man.

  They were trapped.

  Chapter Two

  Julia clamped her teeth over her bottom lip to choke back a scream. What was happening?

  “Lower your gun,” the man at the front of the alley warned Russell. “Keep your hands where I can see them and don’t make any sudden moves.”

  The man giving the orders was tall and lanky and wore jeans and a scruffy t-shirt—unlike his comrade at the other end of the alley who wasn’t wearing a ski mask. And that frightened Julia even more, because it meant Russell and she could identify him.

  And that meant the man might kill them for that reason alone.

  Of course, he might have already had killing on his mind before he stepped into that alley.

  Julia cursed herself. How could she have gotten herself into this situation again? She didn’t have the answer for that yet, but she wouldn’t just stand around and whimper about this, and she wouldn’t give up without a fight.

  She cleared her throat so her voice would have some sound. “What’s going on?” she asked Russell.

  Not that she expected him to tell her. So far, he hadn’t volunteered much, and she didn’t trust him any further than she could throw him. Still, Russell had stepped in front of her when the men first appeared, and he appeared to be trying to protect her.

  For all the good it’d do.

  They literally had two guns aimed right at them.

  Julia felt the jolt of panic and tried to get it under control before it snowballed. Not easy to do. Everything inside her was telling her to run for her life.

  “Keep quiet,” Russell growled. “Stay calm. And slow down your breathing.” He glanced back at her, his coffee-brown eyes narrowed and intense. His gaze slashed from one end of the alley to the other, and he finally lifted his hands in surrender.

  “Who are you?” Russell asked the man.

  The ski-masked gunman stayed put, but the other one walked closer. He was dressed better than his partner. His crisp khakis and pale blue shirt made him look more like a preppy college professor than a criminal, and there were some threads of gray in his dark hair. But there was no doubt in Julia’s mind that this man was up to no good. “Who are you?” the preppy guy echoed, aiming his stare at Russell.

  “Jimmy Marquez,” Russell replied.

  Julia hoped she didn’t look surprised that he’d given them that name—the same one he’d used in the bar when she had first approached him. It wasn’t his real name, she was sure of that. She’d paid Sentron Securities too much money for them to make a mistake like that.

  “And who the hell are you?” Russell added, staring at the approaching man. “Milo.”

  She felt the muscles in Russell’s arm relax. Why, she didn’t know.

  “Well, it’s about damn time you showed up,” Russell snarled. “You should have been here yesterday. I waited in that bar half the night for you.”

  Milo offered no apology, no explanation. He merely lifted his shoulder and tipped his head to the ski-masked guy.

  Both men lowered their wea
pons.

  That didn’t make Julia breathe any easier. Something dangerous and probably illegal was likely about to happen, and she had no idea if she could rely on Russell. Thankfully, he kept his gun gripped in his hand.

  She held on to the pepper spray.

  Lissa had been stupid, or duped, to get involved with a man like Russell Gentry. Julia should have ignored Lissa’s deathbed request that she personally find the father of Lissa’s child. There was no way Julia would hand over the baby to the likes of him, and it didn’t matter that she would be violating Lissa’s dying wish.

  “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 ea
rlier. 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.”