Yesterday (4 page)
Authors: Lora Leigh
I said, the property is not up for sale. Anna locked gazes with Charlie Austin.
He wasn t any nicer now than he had been three years before. He was convinced he was God s gift to women and thought the world revolved around him and his wants and needs. He wasn t much taller than her, a few inches at most. With a bulldog expression and watery gray eyes with a wiry strength she knew was concealed well in his skinny looking body. He was confrontational and a bully, and he kept enough of his much larger friends around him that he usually got what he wanted. He wasn t getting what he wanted here.
Anna, you re being awful stubborn about something that was given to you. He was leering at her. The expression on his hang dog face suggested it was little more than payment for services rendered.
Anna narrowed her eyes on him. Behind him, Beau Edwards was staring at her darkly, his wide, rawboned face creased with his own anger. Charlie was supposed to get what he wanted. Anna had already thwarted him once, three years ago, and now she was doing it again.
Doesn t matter how I got it Charlie, she told him softly. It s still mine. Every inch of it. And you aren t getting it.
Blake had arranged for her to receive everything he owned if something had happened to him on that mission. Why, she didn t know. It was one night, that was all. One incredible amazing night she still couldn t forget. She owned the farm, over two hundred acres of land and a house that could have made her rich twenty times over if she had agreed to sell. There was no way she would ever sell. Especially not to Charlie Austin.
Unfortunately, Charlie was getting more and more insistent. He wanted the farm and he didn t like taking no for an answer.
You know, he finally said slowly. Lots of things can happen to a girl living out here all by herself. Bad things Anna. Your safety is important you know.
She heard the threat in his voice.
Then they better be wearing damned good armor, she snapped. Blake left me more than the house and property Charlie. He left me a damned good gun too. And I know how to use it.
His face flushed. She could see fury washing through his expression.
Don t be a fool, Anna. Beau growled then. Be nice about this.
Beau, I m not a very nice person anymore, remember? She wanted to snarl in fury.
Now get off my land..
You little bitch
Charlie stepped closer.
Evidently, you don t hear so good.
Anna didn t know who was more amazed, her, Charlie or Beau when the big stranger stepped from the shadows at the side of the house. She, personally, nearly had a stroke.
For a moment, for one exalted, ecstatic moment, she saw Blake.
Blake stepping between her and Charlie, his broad back a shield, his body tense, ready to battle. A gun was clipped to his belt in the small of his back. A large, black pistol that she thought resembled the one she kept in her bedroom. In Blake s bedroom.
He turned to her then. The outside light cast his sharp, hawkish features in clear relief, destroying the image forever. This wasn t Blake.
Who the hell are you? Charlie and Beau had both stepped back quickly, their eyes narrowed the air filling with fury.
The boogie man, he drawled. Your worse fucking nightmare if you don t pile your asses back in your car and get the hell out of here. Your choice. Make it now.
They left. Cursing, muttered threat, and Anna stood there silently. Staring at his back, fighting the pain and fury that overwhelmed her when she realized it wasn t Blake. The eyes were the same. God, the same dark, sexy eyes and long lashes. His eyes were the same brilliant, intense blue. But it wasn t Blake.
He turned back to her slowly and Anna couldn t help but letting here eyes go over him with greedy hope. His body was leaner, but no less as strong and muscular. His face more angular. His nose had been broken at sometime. His features were rougher, more savage.
Her lips trembled.
I m Devon Morgan, Miss Andrew. Blake s brother She felt as though she were going to faint. The brother he had searched so hard for. Anna had found several journals Blake had once kept in some boxes in the attic. She had greedily consumed them, read of his battle to find the brother he had been separated from, to regain a part of the family he had lost as a child.
Devon Morgan had been that brother s name. She felt her throat tighten in pain. So many dreams Blake had harbored inside his soul. Only to allow death to cheat him of them.
Blake
She swallowed again. She didn t know if she could say the words.
I know. He drew in a hard, deep breath. I found out when I hit town yesterday. I wanted to come by. He lowered his head, his shoulders tightening further. I wanted to see if you needed anything. Maybe talk for a while.
Anna shook her head and stepped back. Please, come in. She tried to smile, but was afraid her face would crumble from the pain. Blake s home is always open to you Devon.
He stared into the interior of the house in shock. Seeming to pale, his throat working tightly. Anna turned and glanced back, her chest loosening marginally as the little boy stared back at them from the entrance into the living room.
Can I have cookies now, Momma? Bright blue eyes, sun dark skin and devil s black hair. Devon Micheal Morgan was the image of the father he had never known.
She turned back to Devon Morgan. Come in Mr. Morgan and meet your namesake, she said gently. Blake s son.
Blake s son. His son. Blake didn t know if he could speak. Didn t know if he could function. He moved slowly into the house, his throat tight, his chest filled with fire as he fought everything inside him pleading to tell Anna the truth. Dying inside to halt the charade now and take his life back. His woman. His child. And he hadn t known. But, if he had, would he have finished the mission? And now that it was over, what had it gained him?
The house had changed little since he had last been in it. New carpeting, but the same soft creamy shade he had originally chose. The walls were freshly painted, a few borders stretching beneath the ceilings. A delicate embroidery pattern of rich green vines. The house smelled of flowers, and woman. And the livingroom was strung with toys.
He likes playing with all of his toys at once. She smiled as they stepped into the room and she picked the little boy up.
He was dressed in soft t shirt. Shorts. His little legs wrapped around his mother s waist as he stared back at Blake almost fearfully.
His names Devon Micheal, she said softly then. I call him Mike. Blake had written in a journal that if he ever had son he wanted to name him after his brother and father. She smoothed her hand over the little boys head. Pain filled her eyes as she finally glanced back up at him.
Blake couldn t shake the shock. He would kill Ridgeway. He knew the other man was aware of the boy and he hadn t even warned him. His son.
He s beautiful, he whispered. And he was. He was perfect. Blue eyes and black hair like the Morgan men. But his features were softened by baby fat and his mother s looks.
He was a tiny, perfect little picture of all the dreams Blake thought had been destroyed.
Yes, he is, she agreed, a mother s pride echoing through her voice. I was about to give him cookies when the two goons showed up. Would you like something eat? I made Chilli for dinner and there s plenty left.
He nodded. Damn. He couldn t make himself speak. Couldn t make himself find a way to put in effect the plan had carefully made. All he could do was stare at the child. Then at Anna. His child. His woman.
Something inside his soul was shattering. She had been alone. Pregnant. She was raising a child he knew she hadn t planned and without a father. How had she done it? How had she overcome all the problems he knew she must have faced?
He followed her into the kitchen. His eyes stayed locked with those of the child until she sat him on one of the high backed stools and moved to the refridgerator.
He ll fall. He stepped quickly to the bar stool, his hands almost shaking at the little boy wiggled around on it.
Anna turned back at him in surprise. He ll be fine. He sits there all the time.
Blake eased himself slowly into the stool beside the child. He still couldn t take his eyes off him.
How old is he?
I m three, the little boy piped up. My name is Mike.
He answers pretty good for himself. Her laughter was warm, if a bit strained. I m sorry about that thing outside. She pushed a bowl of chilli into the microwave. That was Charlie Austin. He decided Blake s farm would make a nice addition to his. He bought the property beside it.
Austin. He was going to have to kill that bastard, Blake thought. Should have done so before he ever went on that last mission.
Are you my daddy? Little Mike s childish voice sent pain and anger flooding Blake s system. Rage. So much fury he wanted to scream out with it.
No Mike. Anna s voice was soft. This is Uncle Devon. Remember? Momma told you about Uncle Devon. This is daddy s brother.
He looked at her, barely comprehending her words.
He knows who his daddy is. She met his gaze directly. I didn t have pictures of you.
She shrugged. You resemble his daddy.
He was his daddy. Blake wanted to scream the words. Wanted to shout them to the rooftops. But he couldn t. Especially not now. The danger was too great. Son of a bitch, why hadn t Ridgeway at least warned him.
You re welcome to stay while you re here, her voice was as soft and sweet as summer rain. There s a guest room. Major Ridgeway called yesterday and told me he had met you. He likes you. He doesn t like many people. I just didn t expect you so soon.
At least Ridgeway had warned someone.
Blake ate the chilli, but he barely tasted it. He ate chocolate cookies and milk with the boy, but he couldn t tell if they were even any good. He watched his son. His son. The little boy wasn t neat, but Anna was patient and filled with smiles as she cleaned the toddler up and then sent him back to his toys.
Silence filled the room then as she cleaned up the dishes. Once again, she patient, waiting. Giving him time to come to grips with his thoughts.
I didn t know about the boy, he finally told her, his voice rough. I d like to stay a while.
He couldn t go through with the earlier plan. Visit her when he could. Seduce her. Stay at his motel. Become her friend then her lover. Not now. He couldn t do that. He had to be here. Had to protect her. Protect their child.
She turned back to him. She was gripping the dishtowel she held with desperate hands, but her expression was understanding. Gentle. She nodded slowly.
I ll make up the guest room for you, Devon. Blake would have wanted you to stay.
The name pierced his skull. Her careful impersonal expression seared his soul. He stood slowly to his feet, hunger beating a hard tempest through his blood, rage eating at his guts.
I ll get my things. I ll see you soon Anna. Touch you soon. Love you soon. I ll reclaim it all. But before he returned, he d teach Austin a thing or two about manners.
He had a child. A child he hadn t known about. A child Anna had borne and raised along in the nearly five years he had been gone. He bet little Mike was close to four. Couldn t be more than a few months from it. And he was a strong, healthy little boy.
His chubby little face was as innocent as anything Black had ever seen. Thick black lashes laying along his cheeks, his mouth pursed, fist clenched against Blake s chest as he slept soundly.
You could have lain him on the couch. Anna stood at the doorway of the living room watching them, her lush body leaning against the wide doorframe as she dried her hands on a dishrag. Cleaning up after Mike s evening snack sometimes took her a few minutes.
Her long fiery red hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, her green eyes a quiet as she watched him.
I wanted to hold him. He shifted the little boy in his arms and rose to his feet. I ll carry him up to the bedroom if you like.
Anna had carried him in the night before. She often held the boy, lifting him in her arms and cuddling him close, despite the fact that he was a heavy little tyke.
She nodded slowly before moving through the room and into the hallway that led to Mike s bedroom. It was a little boys dream room. A racing car bed, low to the floor to keep the little boy from rolling out of bed. A small game station and television. Leggo creations that showed more imagination than building skill. On the wall beside the head board of his bed was a picture taken years before. Blake with a few of his buddies, in fatigues and laughing at the camera. It had been taken on the Army base right before he came home that final time.
Other pictures, Blake as a child, solemn and often scruffy lined the wall. Small momentoes he had saved over the years were placed in positions of prominence through out the room. Anna was doing everything to insure his child knew who he was.
His heart swelled in his chest, nearly bursting as he laid the boy in the neatly turned down bed and stepped back. Anna tucked the blankets around the pajama clad child, kissed his cheek softly then stood back up and glanced at him.
He looked just like Blake, she whispered sadly then. All the pictures of when he was a little boy. Like a miniature of him. There was a wealth of love and aching loss in her voice.
Yeah. Blake forced himself to agree. He does.
A smile edged her lips then. You look a lot like him yourself. The resemblance is uncanny.
Blake swallowed tightly. Yeah. I do.
Damn. He didn t know what to say to her, didn t know how to bridge the pain of being who he was and yet unable to tell her. To stare in her eyes and tell her the truth, to see recognition, maybe arousal. Maybe love.
She breathed in deeply as she led the way from the room, pausing to turn on the small bedlamp and flip off the bright overhead lamp. He noticed she never took chances with the baby. Always a light on in case he needed to get up. The hall was set with small lights on each end, they stayed lit through the night. She kept a light on in her room all night.
Small, dim. Just enough light for Mike to see by he came looking for her.
She led the way back to the living room where she began picking up toys and stacking them in a tote that sat along one wall. She moved gracefully, sensually. There was nothing he loved more than watching her move.
I was wondering around while you were gone shopping this afternoon, he finally said to fill in the silence. I found the equipment shed and the barn. I thought I d start clearing the pasture, fixing things up a bit.
She turned to him in surprise. I don t expect you to work to stay here, Devon.
He shrugged his shoulders lightly. Work needs to be done and I can do it. You have some good farm land here, Anna. A few cattle would bring you a healthy profit over the year. A garden maybe.
He saw her lights light up for a second, then dim as she smiled wryly. I can t ask you to do that Devon. Besides, when you leave, there s no way I can care for it. After Mike goes to school I can get a job that would be a lot easier on us.
Blake frowned. There was no reason she would have to work. Blake didn t leave you provided for? He knew he had.
Anna smiled softly. Very much so. But it s Mike s inheritance, Devon. Not mine. I wasn t
she glanced away. Blake and I weren t together for very long. I She
shrugged. It s Mike s future.
Blake shifted restlessly, stilling the protest rising to his lips. Damn her, he had left her well provided for. He had made his own money, provided for himself, and he expected no less from his son after he came of age.
He cleared his throat. He could argue with her later. No sense in upsetting her now when he needed her to agree to what he wanted.
Won t hurt to clean the pastures out, fix up the barns and sheds. It will look nice anyway.
She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with humor. You re bored.
I m not used to being lazy. He shrugged as he tried to match her amusement. I d like to hang around a while, get to know you and Mike. Since you won t let me pay bills or buy the groceries, I can at least do this.
It had been their first argument. She had won by default. Her eyes had glistened with tears, her expression had been crestfallen, as though he had somehow offended her.
Fine. She finally sighed. I just hate to see you working so hard when there s no need.
Regret shimmered in her eyes. Lost dreams. Frustration. He could see it very clearly. And he saw something more. The betraying flicker of her gaze. His cock surged as her gaze lingered for no more than half a second before she turned away.
Anna. I actually like working, he assured her as he moved closer to her, feeling the heat of her body as he laid his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him.
God. He was going to go up in smoke. Before she could hide it. Before she could away the need in her eyes, he saw it. Blistering hot, confused, a rioting hunger that made him so damned hot it was all he could do not to push her to the couch and take her then. He wanted her beneath him, hot and wet and crying out his name. He wanted to fuck her until the horror and pain of the past years was erased from his mind and there was nothing but the two of them exploding.
Her lips parted, a light blush stealing over her cheeks. Okay. Yeah. Fine. You can do that. She moved away from him, trembling, but not before he saw the tight peaks of her nipples pressing against the fabric of her shirt. I m heading on to bed now, Devon. Make yourself at home. Goodnight.
She was running from him. Devon restrained his smile of victory. He would let her run, for now. She didn t know him, not really, and he wanted more than hot sex, more than just the warmth of her in his bed. He wanted it all. His home, his life, his child, but even more, he wanted his woman. All of her.