Roarke's Kingdom

“You expect me to believe that?”

“At this point, I don’t give a damn what you believe! Ask Dr. Ronald. Or ask Alexandra—if you can ever get her to speak the truth.”

“It’s going to be tough to ask her anything. I sent her packing half an hour after you left Isla de la Pantera.”

“But I thought—”

“You thought wrong. And now that I know the truth about Susanna, I don’t plan on ever seeing Alexandra again.” His gaze swept over Jennifer’s face. “All right,” he said slowly, “let’s assume, for the moment, that you came to Puerto Rico only to see Susanna. How were you going to manage that?”

“I knew where the man who’d adopted her worked. I figured I’d find him, follow him home and—and at least get a glimpse of his wife. And of my—my baby.”

In the silence, she heard the rasp of Roarke’s indrawn breath.

“So you came to Campbell Enterprises looking for me?”

“Not for you. I mean, yes, for you. But I thought you were someone else. I’d hired a private detective and he gave me a photo of a man who wore glasses, who had thinning hair…”

“Tennyson,” he said, “my comptroller.”

“I was shocked when you told me you were Roarke Campbell. By the time we reached Isla de la Pantera, I was sure I was on a wild-goose chase.” She swallowed dryly. “And then I saw Susu.”

“And you saw a resemblance.” Roarke’s voice roughened. “I saw it, but I thought it was just—just some special magic that you and Susu should both have soft dark curls and eyes like bits of the sky.”

“I didn’t see it, no. At least, I didn’t let myself see it.” Her voice softened. “But I had to be sure, so I asked Constancia if Susu was yours—”

“And she said she was.”

Jennifer nodded. “Susanna was yours. I had no reason to think otherwise. But I fell in love with Susanna anyway, just because—because she’s Susanna. And somewhere along the way, I decided it had been wrong for me to go looking for my baby. I had no right to search for her, or even to—to ache for her…”

Roarke clasped her her shoulders. “Giving her up must have been agony,” he said softly.

“There’s no way to describe it. But I didn’t see any choice. The life I could have given her, my mother’s illness…” She shook her head. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

His arms closed around her.

She told herself not to react.

Then he whispered her name. “Jen,” he

said softly.

No one else had ever called her that and somehow the sound of his special name for her, the feel of his embrace, were her undoing.

She began to weep.

He groaned, brought her head to his chest and stroked her hair.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Sweetheart, don’t cry.”

“When you told me where and when Susanna was born, I knew I had to tell you the truth.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I started to. Endless times, but I kept—I kept losing courage. And then that night, in San Juan. You told me about Susanna’s birth. I knew I had to tell you then—but Constancia phoned. She said Alexandra was on the island.”

“And you decided you’d lost your chance to tell me the truth.”

Jennifer nodded.