Her Secret, His Child

"It sounds like a way of coping," he said.

In his voice, she heard the warmth she'd come to associate with him during their many long phone conversations.

"I never experienced anything with the men I was with, have no memory of what a single one of them felt like." She hadn't even realized that until now. "I just remember places I've lain and the things I did in my room while I was lying there. I could even tell you who I was conversing with in my head or what song I was singing."

"The mind's a pretty powerful thing." He was still her friend. Caring. "It takes care of itself."

"I didn't go to my room the night Ashley was conceived," she whispered, losing her battle with the emotions thundering through her.

TARA TAYLOR QUINN

She could tell her confession moved him. Sitting beside her on the couch he took her hand, touching her for the first time since he'd learned her shameful secret. He didn't say anything for a long time. Just leaned back against the couch, staring down at their clasped hands.

"Why?" His question was tortured.

"Why didn't I go there? Or why didn't I tell you what I was?"

' 'Why any of it? Why you? Why me? Why was that night so different? Why, as much as I hate all this, do I still care so damn much?"

' 'Maybe you were drawn to me that night because of who I was." She'd been wondering that ever since he'd told her about his mother.

"I had no idea you were working."

"Maybe not consciously." She focused on their clasped hands. "But men have a way of knowing. Maybe you sensed it. Maybe, with all your doubts, your self-recriminations, you needed me."

"But why you? Why not any of a hundred girls I could have found—girls more obvious about what they were?"

Jamie had no answer. Except one. "Maybe because / needed you.''

For the first time, Jamie put into words something she'd always instinctively known. "You saved me that night, Kyle. You tapped into the good that was still left inside me. The integrity that desperately needed to break free, to live and breathe. That night with you gave me the strength to be the woman I'd always believed I was meant to be."

> HER SECRET, HIS CHILD

Kyle let go of her hand and raked his fingers through his hair. "So why'd you do it in the first place?"

She couldn't share that with him yet. Not while he was still so full of disgust. Not when his question came more from curiosity than concern. She needed him to accept her as she was. To care for her regardless. Or they could never have a future.

"I never sat down one day and made a conscious choice to become a highly paid escort, Kyle." She wanted to stand up. To get away from him. But she wasn't going to run anymore. "One thing just led to another, each little step leading me down that road. One little step at a time didn't seem so bad."

"Right, and next you're going to be telling me there was nothing bad about a woman who'd entertain two men at a time on her son's bed."

"No, Kyle, I can't tell you that. Because it isn't true." She tried to be strong. "The life of a kept woman—of any kind—can't be anything but bad."

"Well, this certainly explains your reaction the night I told you about her." His tone was cold again, distant. "You could relate."

"I'm not your mother, Kyle."

She didn't have to defend herself. Didn't need him sitting in judgment of her. She did that just fine all by herself. But neither could she leave him hurting this way, thinking he'd bedded a woman just like the mother who'd let him down so cruelly. So…

' 'I dated each of my clients—exclusively—until that particular liaison ended. If he was in town a week, it lasted a week. If he came back to Las Vegas

TARA TAYLOR QUINN

later and I wasn't seeing anyone else, he'd have another week. If he lived in town, sometimes it lasted longer. I didn't pick up strangers. I never had one-night stands. I never once took a man to my home. I didn't allow kissing. And I never, ever, did anything you'd think of as…kinky."

And then she remembered something. The champagne. The hot bubble bath. "Until that night with you."

Later, lying in his bed, Kyle tried to sleep. He coaxed himself with the promise of eggs, fried potatoes and bacon for breakfast if he'd just drift off for a while. He got angry and demanded that he get his mind off it and go to sleep instantly. He lay quietly, eyes closed, trying not to move at all in the hope that he'd fall asleep in spite of himself. He counted old T-Birds.