Dominated (The Enforcers 2)

“And speaking of which,” her mother said, continuing on as if not noticing Evangeline’s sudden quietness—her mother never missed anything—“do you remember you have a doctor’s appointment at one tomorrow?”

As if she could forget. The appointment had been all that she’d thought about for the last week.

She nodded. “Are you still going to come with me?”

An anxious note crept into her voice despite her trying to make it sound like a casual inquiry.

Her mother hugged her fiercely. “I wouldn’t miss it, darling. Of course I’m coming. You’re carrying my grandchild! I’m very much looking forward to knowing an approximate due date so we can make plans. And I’ve already started sewing for the little one. Neutral colors, of course, until we know what you’re having.”

Evangeline smiled, feeling a rush of excitement, the first good feeling she’d had in so very long that it was intoxicating. She wanted to hug it to her and hold on to it forever.

“Oh, I can’t wait! I can’t decide if I want a boy or a girl. I honestly don’t care! I already love him or her so much,” she said fiercely. “I can’t wait to meet my baby and hold her.”

Her mother grinned, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “You just called it her. Could it be you’re secretly hoping for a daughter?”

Evangeline laughed. “No. Honestly, I don’t care. I alternate saying him and her because I hate calling the baby it and well, I don’t want to give preference to either sex so I just switch back and forth.”

“Brenda! Where in Sam Hill are y’all?” her father called from the living room.

Her mother clapped a hand over her mouth. “Whoops! I got so caught up I completely forgot why I came in here. Your father sent me to kidnap you. He’s starting a movie and wanted us to watch it together.”

Evangeline linked her arm through her mother’s and squeezed affectionately. “Then let’s go sit down with Daddy and keep him company for a while.”

35

Evangeline was quiet on the drive home from the doctor’s appointment. Though she’d been euphoric when the obstetrician had ordered a vaginal ultrasound to determine her due date, and she’d seen the heartbeat—had heard it!—when she and her mom had left the clinic, sadness had settled over her.

How different things would be if she and Drake were still together. About to be married. Having a baby. He would have gone to her appointment with her and they would have shared in the joy of seeing their child for the first time. Instead, she was a single mom. One of many enduring their pregnancies without a supportive spouse or partner.

She stared blindly out the window as they drew closer to her parents’ home, blinking to prevent the tears that threatened to fall. It was time to stop crying and pull herself together. Face reality. Drake—being with Drake—was a fantasy. An impossible dream because he could never trust her, never believe in her, and she could never be with a man who had so little faith in her. She owed herself and her baby more than that.

She rubbed her stomach, still awed by the images on the ultrasound monitor. This was a time for joy and excitement, and she refused to allow Drake Donovan to take that away from her. A child was a cause for celebration no matter how it came to be, and she never, for one moment, wanted there to be any doubt that her child wasn’t dearly loved and wanted with every single part of her heart.

Her mom pulled into the drive and cast an almost nervous glance in Evangeline’s direction. Evangeline looked at her mom in question, wondering at the odd look on her mother’s face. But it was gone as soon as it registered, leaving Evangeline to wonder if she’d imagined it as her mother smiled brightly at her.

“Let’s go in and show your father the sonogram pictures!”

Evangeline’s heart squeezed and she clutched the pictures to her chest, a surge of love making her heart flutter. She smiled back at her mom and the two women got out and walked to the door.

Her mom went in first and to her surprise headed for her bedroom, leaving Evangeline standing in the foyer in confusion. With a shake of her head at her mother’s odd behavior, she headed into the living room to find her dad and share the news from her doctor’s appointment.

But when she walked into the living room, she halted in her tracks, her shocked gaze settling on the man standing on the far side, hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, staring broodingly out the window overlooking the backyard. Then he turned and their eyes locked and her stomach bottomed out.

Drake.

What was he doing here? She sucked in her breath at the raw vulnerability reflected in usually nonexpressive eyes, eyes that never gave anything away. He looked . . . tormented. His expression held utter bleakness and he looked as if he hadn’t slept or eaten in weeks. He looked as bad as she felt.