Her Secret, His Child: A Little Secret by Tara Quinn (romance book recommendations TXT) 📗

inside the fireplace, instead.

"Okay, so talk," he said.

She took a deep breath. ' 'I just want you to know that if, when I've said what I have to say, you never want anything to do with me again, I'll understand. And I'll always make Ashley available to you."

Kyle sat forward. He didn't like the sound of this at all. Did she still not trust that he was in this for the long haul? Hadn't she figured out there was nothing she could do or say that was going to scare him off?

Meeting her gaze, reading the serious conviction in her eyes, he nodded.

' 'The night we met, at that party in Las Vegas, I

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was working." She was like a robot, throwing out words that had no meaning to her.

Unfortunately, they had no meaning to him, either. "Okay."

"The man we met at the dinner Saturday night, Nelson Monroe—he was one of my clients."

Forearms braced on his knees, Kyle nodded. Was that it? She thought he'd disapprove of her clients? Of the fact that she did business at parties? Half the business transactions in the world took place at social gatherings. This was making no sense.

Jamie seemed at a loss for words suddenly, staring at him as though something was supposed to be clear to him now.

' 'Is he still your client?'' he asked, more because he was baffled than because he cared if she did the man's taxes.

"No!"

"Okay."

"He wasn't the only one."

"Male clients, you mean?" He was really trying hard here.

Her lower lip started to tremble, but she continued to look him straight in the eye. "Yes."

"Okay." He hadn't figured all her clients were women. Neither could he figure out why they were having this conversation.

"I didn't do their taxes, Kyle."

That surprised him. "You baby-sat for them?" he asked.

"No." She wrapped her arms around herself as if warding off a chill.

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"Did secretarial work?"

"No."

What in hell was going on here? "House-sat? Cleaned?" Was that it? She'd cleaned houses before she'd gotten her degree?

"No."

"Are you going to tell me where we're going with this, or you want me to keep guessing?" he asked. He'd do whatever he could to help her out, just as soon as he understood what they were talking about.

"You're so sweet, you know that?" She was smiling at him. But there was a sheen of tears in her eyes.

"And this is a bad thing?"

"No."

She shook her head, but the tears didn't fall. They just hung there, scaring him.

"It's a wonderful thing. It just makes this so much harder."

"Maybe if you'd tell me what 'this' is, it wouldn't be so hard."

Looking up at the ceiling, she laughed. Sort of. There was nothing light or humorous in the sound. "I'm trying to."

"All right," Kyle said, beginning again. "You were working the night we met—you have male clients—you don't do their taxes, clean their houses, type reports for them or baby-sit."

She shook her head.

"Monroe was one of your clients." Flashing back to the other night, Kyle listened again to Monroe's

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words, trying to find a clue there. And came up empty. The man had had nothing but sex on his mind.

"He wasn't as out of line as you thought," Jamie whispered. She'd opened her eyes very wide, as if she thought that could keep the tears from falling.

Kyle was finding it a little hard to breathe.

"Of course he was out of line, Jamie. It doesn't matter what you did for him, you deserve his respect."

' 'Even if what I did for him was exactly what he was asking for Saturday night?"

Mesmerized, Kyle watched two tears spill out and slide slowly down her cheeks.

The room was a little chilly. He wondered if Jamie was having troubles paying her heating bill. Maybe he should offer to light a fire.

He realized, suddenly, that she was waiting for an answer. "I don't believe you'd ever do what he was asking."

"I'm sorry." The whispered words were accompanied by more tears. "So sorry."

Kyle nodded. He believed she was. Maybe he should just head home. He'd left his thermostat up when he'd gone to work that morning. His house would be warm.

"Say something."

"What would you like me to say?" Seemed to him the conversation had gone on far too long already.

"I don't know, Kyle." She took a couple of fal-

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tering steps towards him. "Yell at me, tell me you hate me, but don't just sit there."

Standing, Kyle put the couch between them. "Okay, I'm not sitting."

She was so beautiful, standing there alone in the middle of the room, her eyes huge, pleading with him. If he wasn't so damn cold he'd pull her against him.

"What are you thinking?" she whispered.

"You expect me to believe you had sex with Nelson Monroe?" He didn't know where the words came from. They weren't the ones he wanted to say.

Hands still wrapped tightly around her middle, Jamie nodded. She must be cold, too, he thought.

"And there were others?"

Jamie nodded again.

"How many?"

He'd finally made her look away. The relief was almost overwhelming.

"I don't know, Kyle. What does it matter?" She was staring at the floor.

He didn't know what it mattered. "Ten, fifty, a hundred?"

"Closer to ten than a hundred."

His teeth clenched so tightly his jaw hurt.

Silence fell in the room. Kyle wondered how to leave.

"Somewhere between ten and fifty?" he asked when he thought neither of them was ever going to say another word.

"Somewhere."

"And they paid you."

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"Yes."

"You took their money?"

"Yes, Kyle, I took their money. I was a prostitute, okay? What do you want, specific places, times, positions?" Tears were pouring down Jamie's face.

Kyle wondered where she kept the tissues. And whether or not she had a blanket or something for him to cover up with. Cold as he was, it might be a long night.

Then something she'd said earlier hit him squarely between the eyes. He felt his stomach cramp and almost threw up. "You were working that night we met."

Falling onto the couch, Jamie crumpled over her knees and nodded.

"That's why