Passionate Retribution

She blinked hard but this nightmare still didn't vanish. A sweetly provoking smile curved itself around her lips. 'Putting truth in the arena would only confuse you, Luke.'

He inhaled sharply, air hissing through his clenched teeth. 'Upstairs.'

'I'm choosy about my guests…' Her words trailed off into a shriek as he literally threw he over his shoulder and carried her fireman style over his shoulder and up the stairs. He ignored her furious stream of invective and kicked open the half-closed door.

Emily kicked out at him as he placed her on the small sofa, feeling savage satisfaction as her foot connected with his shin. 'You think you can barge in here like some barbarian.' She sat upright, indignation overcoming the instinctive fear the sight of him had produced. Fear that had been well-founded. He knew about the child, though how was a total mystery to her; but that single fact placed in jeopardy her calm, joyful plans. Her newly born maternal instincts were on full alert; if Luke thought he was going to take the child away from her… A choked sound emerged from her throat.

Luke was looking around the room, but, as if sensing her silent regard, he glanced directly at her. 'You find me uncouth and barbaric, Emmy. Is that why you ran out so dramatically?'

'I didn't think you'd notice,' she replied coldly. 'You were so busy.' So that had nettled him, had it? Not enough, she thought bitterly, to try and locate me. No, I bet he was too busy with another of his merry bloody widows, she thought viciously. Her dreams had been troubled by visions of Beth Urquhart.

'What,' he asked swiftly, a small crease between his darkly defined eyebrows, 'is that supposed to signify, or was it simply one of that plethora of childish retorts you have at your fingertips?'

'As if you didn't know,' she sneered.

He sat down on the sofa beside her, an arm laid across her shoulders effectively pinning her to the seat. She held herself rigid, swallowing hard as he pressed his thigh with slow deliberation against her own. 'I'm sure it's fascinating, but shall we get back to the original question? In case you've developed selective amnesia,

Emily, I'll repeat myself,' he said with heavy irony. 'Are you carrying our child?' As he spoke he took her chin in his free hand and, fingertips pressing into the angle of her jaw, wrenched her head around until she had to meet his interrogative stare.

‘My child,' she corrected, and her words lit a fire somewhere at the back of his eyes. 'How did you find out?'

Luke was silent for a long moment, as if he had trouble assimilating the information she had so reluctantly volunteered. The smile was silkily affable, his eyes hard and cold. 'One of life's little ironies, infant. Your father made sure I was there tonight.'

'I don't understand…'

'There's a lot of that going around, infant,' he shot back, his voice flecked with some of the rage that was obviously consuming him. 'Your dear papa made sure I'd be there tonight because I've been ignoring his recent phone calls. He wanted to read me a lecture on parental responsibility, would you believe? An incredible source to find such a doctrine preached,' he continued ironically. 'He accused me of deserting you like the worthless piece of scum I am. He waxed quite lyrical on the subject,' he recalled, with a satirical lift of an eyebrow. 'We exchanged some pleasantries and parted company.'

Emily saw no humour, not even of the ironical variety, in this information. Her mind was coming up against those dead ends again. The thought of her father confronting Luke made her imagination boggle. How on earth had he found out? 'You didn't hit him, did you?' Luke had such an air of suppressed violence about him that she could imagine her father pushing just that little too far. 'I don't understand. I haven't told him.'

'I didn't hit him, though the thought did cross my mind. You always did underestimate your father's ingenuity, infant. He's been tracking you since you got back to town. A visit to the local maternity clinic sort of gives massive clues.'

'That's disgusting!' she choked. The notion of being followed made her shudder.

'In the circumstances, I can only applaud the precautionary measure.'

'You're as bad as he is,' she said, incredulous at this peculiar alliance against her.

'He's only looking out for you, Emmy.'

'You're making excuses for my father,' she choked.

'I can understand the motivation,' he corrected quietly. 'You must be three months pregnant,' he added, making a swift mental calculation.

'Always assuming that the baby is yours.' Her face was a mask of unconcern. She could have told him to the day…to the hour how pregnant she was.

He took her by the shoulders and looked into her face, the blue eyes steadfast, the expression almost wary, tinged by a deep sadness that shone through the anger that was still etched in the tightly drawn lines of his face. She felt a fresh wave of bewilderment at his response. Had she half hoped he'd be willing to accept this simple get-out clause? It would be simpler for all concerned. She couldn't imagine Beth taking kindly to the situation.