King's Ransom (Man on a Mission 2)

“You never answered any of the letters or emails I sent you those first two months,” she said slowly. “But you never got them, did you?” He shook his head wonderingly. She covered her eyes with her hand for a moment as emotions bubbled to the surface, then looked at him again. “I wrote to you,” she said in a low voice, “many times. Words from my heart. Letters. Emails. Almost every day. But you never responded. I even tried to call you, but you never answered your cell phone. I knew you were busy. But I...I had begged you for only one night. And I started to wonder if your silence was your way of telling me that’s all it would ever be.”

Her lips trembled and she pressed them together tightly until she was able to control her emotions. “Then two months after I left Zakhar two Zakharian agents came to the university. They told me you had sent them.” She ignored his sharply indrawn breath. “They said... They said...” She swallowed hard. “They handed me an envelope...with money. A lot of money. They said I could take the money and have an abortion if I was pregnant, or if I wasn’t I should consider it a farewell gift. From you.”

Andre’s eyes went hard and cold and his lips formed a thin line. He clenched his right hand so tightly his fist was bloodless. “My father,” he grated with repressed anger bordering on hatred. “My father has a lot to answer for...in hell.”

“I threw the money back in their faces,” Juliana told him. “I wasn’t pregnant, but even if I had been, I would never—” Her voice broke. “I loved you. Even thinking you had sent those men, I loved you, and I would never have destroyed your child. Our child.”

An earthy Zakharan curse issued from Andre’s lips. “I did send an agent to America...in December, not earlier. But not to you. Only to check on you because you did not answer your cell phone when I called you. And you did not respond to the emails I sent, either.”

Her eyes grew huge in her face. “You called me?”

He nodded. Then his eyes took on a puzzled expression. “It did not occur to me at the time, but now I realize my unanswered calls never went to voice mail.” He shook that thought off. “Since you did not answer, I emailed you. The first one...it was just a few lines. I tried not to overwhelm you with the depth of my love, but I had to tell you what that night meant to me.” He drew a deep breath. “I bared my soul to you, Juliana, but you did not answer, and that hurt me. Angered me. And yes, cut my pride to the bone. But eventually I sent a second email...”

He trailed off, an arrested expression on his face, and she prompted, “The second email...?”

“That is how he knew,” Andre whispered to himself. “That is how my father knew to send those men to you.” As she had done, he covered his eyes with one hand.

“What...what was in that email?”

Andre lowered his hand and gazed down at her, anger at his father and self-recrimination combined in the troubled face he showed her. “When I did not hear back from you after my first email I wondered if you had changed your mind once you started college. You were free, free to seek new experiences away from your father’s sheltering influence for the first time in your life. Free of me. What if you no longer loved me? What if you regretted what we had done?”

Juliana shook her head in denial. “How could you think that?”

“When a man is feeling guilty, little one, many thoughts go through his mind. I had sworn to myself I would not touch you, so guilt over that night was my constant companion.” He breathed deeply. “In the first flush of wounded pride I told myself I was not going to chase after a woman who did not care enough to at least acknowledge she had received my love letter.” His lips curved into a rueful smile. “Arrogant. Proud. Stupid.”

“Not stupid.”

“Yes, stupid. It did not occur to me until several weeks later there might be another reason why you had not replied. What if there were something you were afraid to tell me? What if you were left dealing with the unintended consequences of that night, and thought you were on your own?”

He made a sound of self-derision. “Strange as it may seem, that only fueled my anger. That you would think me such an ogre you could not tell me. I almost picked up the phone to call you again, but the question I needed to ask...I did not want to confront you, and I feared you might hear the anger and hurt in my voice. So instead I wrote to ask if you were carrying our child.” Juliana caught her breath. “When you never responded to my second email I agonized for two days, then went to your father to inquire about you.”