Sabine straightened her spine, her sharp chin tipping up in defiance. She projected an air of confidence in any situation and had the steel backbone to stand behind it. She certainly had spunk; he’d loved that about her once. Now, he could tell it would be an annoyance.
She looked him straight in the eye and said, “He’s inside. And right now, that’s where he’s staying.”
The bold honesty of her words was like a fist to his gut. The air rushed from his lungs. It was true. He had a son. A son! He hadn’t entirely believed Clay’s story until that precise moment. He’d known his best friend since they were roommates in college, one of the few constants in his life, but he couldn’t always trust Clay’s version of reality. Tonight, he’d insisted that Gavin locate Sabine as soon as possible to find out about her young son.
And he’d been right. For once.
Sabine didn’t deny it. He’d expected her to tell him it wasn’t his child or insist she was babysitting for a friend, but she had always been honest to a fault. Instead, she’d flat-out admitted she’d hidden his child from him and made no apologies about it. She even had the audacity to start making demands about how this was going to go down. She’d been in control of this situation for far too long. He was about to be included and in a big way.
“He’s really my son?” He needed to hear the words from her, although he would demand a DNA test to confirm it no matter what she said.
Sabine swallowed and nodded. “He looks just like you.”
The blood started pumping furiously in Gavin’s ears. He might be able to understand why she kept it a secret if she was uncertain he was the father, but there was no doubt in her mind. She simply hadn’t wanted him involved. She didn’t want the inconvenience of having to share him with someone else. If not for Clay seeing her, he still wouldn’t know he had a child.
His jaw tightened and his teeth clenched together. “Were you ever going to tell me I had a son, Sabine?”
Her pale green gaze burrowed into him as she crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”
She didn’t even bother to lie about it and make herself look less like the deceitful, selfish person she was. She just stood there, looking unapologetic, while unconsciously pressing her brea**sts up out of the top of her sports bra. His brain flashed between thoughts like a broken television as his eyes ran over the soft curves of her body and his ears tried to process her response. Anger, desire, betrayal and a fierce need to possess her rushed through his veins, exploding out of him in words.
“What do you mean, no?” Gavin roared.
“Keep it down!” Sabine demanded between gritted teeth, glancing nervously over her shoulder into the apartment. “I don’t want him to hear us, and I certainly don’t want all my neighbors to hear us, either.”
“Well I’m sorry to embarrass you in front of your neighbors. I just found out I have a two-year-old son that I’ve never met. I think that gives me the right to be angry.”
Sabine took a deep breath, amazing him with her ability to appear so calm. “You have every right to be angry. But yelling won’t change anything. And I won’t have you raising your voice around my son.”
“Our son,” Gavin corrected.
“No,” she said with a sharp point of her finger. “He’s my son. According to his birth certificate, he’s an immaculate conception. Right now, you have no legal claim to him and no right to tell me how to do anything where he’s concerned. You got that?”
That situation would be remedied and soon. “For now. But don’t think your selfish monopoly on our son will last for much longer.”
A crimson flush rushed to her cheeks, bringing color to her flawless, porcelain skin. She had gotten far too comfortable calling the shots. He could tell she didn’t like him making demands. Too bad for her. He had a vote now and it was long overdue.
She swallowed and brushed her purple-highlighted ponytail over her shoulder but didn’t back down. “It’s after seven-thirty on a Wednesday night, so you can safely bet that’s how it’s going to stay for the immediate future.”
Gavin laughed at her bold naïveté. “Do you honestly think my lawyers don’t answer the phone at 2:00 a.m. when I call? For what I pay them, they do what I want, when I want.” He slipped his hand into his suit coat and pulled his phone out of his inner breast pocket. “Shall we call Edmund and see if he’s available?”
Her eyes widened slightly at his challenge. “Go ahead, Gavin. Any lawyer worth his salt is going to insist on a DNA test. It takes no less than three days to get the results of a paternity test back from a lab. If you push me, I’ll see to it that you don’t set eyes on him until the results come back. If we test first thing in the morning, that would mean Monday by my estimation.”