The Ruthless Caleb Wilde

The procedure was called CVS. It involved either a catheter or a long, very sharp needle. Neither sounded pleasant.

The brochure referred to “minimal discomfort.” More troubling, there was “a slight possibility” of damage to her or the baby.

That sent her in search of more information.

She turned on her laptop computer and Googled Chorionic Villi Sampling. The search led her to a web

site where she asked questions of a couple of women who’d gone through it.

Both said it sounded worse than it was.

More importantly, they, and their babies, had come through just fine.

It’ll help if you have someone with you who cares about you, one woman typed, and the other quickly added a smiley face and a heart.

But there was no one who cared for her. There never had been, not really. Her mother had died a long time ago and the simple truth was, she’d done her maternal duty but “love” had never been part of the equation.

David was the only person who’d ever cared for her …

Until Caleb, and the night when he had been her defender, her protector, her lover.

Her accuser.

Sage looked at the blinking cursor on her computer screen, typed a quick Thanks, closed her computer and stood up. Her back ached. Another new thing, courtesy of pregnancy. She stretched, then went to the window.

It was dawn.

Not much sense in doing anything except getting ready for what lay ahead.

She showered, dried her hair and pulled it into a ponytail. She put on a white cotton bra and panties; old, faded jeans that were getting a little snug but still fit; and an ancient Wonder Woman T-shirt she’d found in a resale shop.

Comfort clothes, physically and emotionally. She had the feeling she was going to need some kind of comfort today.

Then she made a cup of herbal tea, sat down at the kitchen table and went through her options one last time.

If she refused to go through with the test, Thomas Caldwell would continue to intrude on her life as he waited for her baby’s birth.

No. Not Thomas Caldwell.

He’d delegated her to Caleb Wilde.

He was the man who would haunt her every footstep, every breath until the baby arrived and a much simpler test finally sent him, and his client, packing.

Sage drank some of the hot tea.

She had lots to do in the next six months.

Find a place to live. Out of the city. She could never afford to raise her child in New York as a single mother. Besides, she wasn’t really a city person.

The one good thing about her own childhood was the memory of green meadows, trees and country roads. She wanted those same things for her child.

So the first thing was to figure out where she wanted to live. Then she had to find a place to rent.

Mostly, she had to find a job.

The dream of becoming an actress could wait.

She had two years of college—night school—that would look good on a résumé. And she had employable skills.