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His Secret Son
Brenda Jackson
Three nights with a Texan…and one pregnancy surprise! The Texas rancher and navy SEAL who fathered Bristol Lockett's son died a hero's death…or so she was told. Yet when Laramie "Coop" Cooper strolls into her exhibit at an art gallery three years later, he's very much alive—and still making her pulse zing. The all-consuming chemistry between them is as undeniable now as it was then, but Bristol won't risk her heart—or their son's. Little does Bristol know he's determined to win over his unexpected family at any cost!
Three nights with a Texan...and one pregnancy surprise! Only from New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson!
The Texas rancher and navy SEAL who fathered Bristol Lockett’s son died a hero’s death...or so she was told. Yet when Laramie “Coop” Cooper strolls into her exhibit at an art gallery three years later, he’s very much alive—and still making her pulse zing. The all-consuming chemistry between them is as undeniable now as it was then, but Bristol won’t risk her heart—or their son’s. Little does Bristol know he’s determined to win over his unexpected family at any cost!
A sexy smile touched the corners of his lips.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment I saw you.”
Bristol drew in a deep breath and stared at him. “I just can’t believe you are alive. Someone in the State Department checked into it and told me you’d died.”
“When was this?”
“A month after I last saw you.”
He nodded. “I was presumed dead, so the person was right. I was rescued just days before Christmas the following year.”
“That was a long time.”
“Yes, it was.” Only his close friends knew about the nightmares he’d had for months following his rescue. Nightmares he still had at times.
“Why were you trying to reach me, Bristol?”
Drawing in another deep breath, she met his gaze and said, “I wanted to let you know I was pregnant.”
* * *
His Secret Son
is part of The Westmoreland Legacy—
Friends and relatives of the legendary
Westmoreland family find love!
His Secret Son
Brenda Jackson
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
BRENDA JACKSON is a New York Times bestselling author of more than one hundred romance titles. Brenda lives in Jacksonville, Florida, and divides her time between family, writing and traveling.
Email Brenda at authorbrendajackson@gmail.com or visit her on her website at www.brendajackson.net (http://www.brendajackson.net).
To the man who will always and forever have my heart, Gerald Jackson Sr.
To Cozett Mazelin and Tamira K. Butler-Likely. Thanks for your assistance in my research of two-year-olds. Your information was invaluable and I hope I did the character of “Little Laramie” justice! I could tell from your responses that you are great moms!!
To my readers who continue to love my Westmorelands, this book is for you.
For none of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone.
—Romans 14:7, NIV
Contents
Cover (#ufe9104b7-4aef-53e6-9950-cb42582c18ee)
Back Cover Text (#u9751b497-4243-5407-9745-7274eebef7be)
Introduction (#u825007f5-23e6-5240-8526-4d0b85353003)
Title Page (#u47c4dafe-d024-50b1-8ba9-da9593e4f9a1)
About the Author (#uf898bd7b-e6a4-5833-b185-fa447805c87c)
Dedication (#u009cd277-69ad-5f72-bec2-381064825722)
Epigraph (#uee12a1a0-78a3-5c8f-8fd1-d643d1415a52)
Prologue (#u9b4e102b-6245-5fd4-bacd-6cb5a344270b)
One (#ua962d88e-17d4-5549-9f9d-7aa2b73045fa)
Two (#u5f17bb7e-df20-5b80-8b05-36b0062fbfb6)
Three (#u324c0ed0-6eb7-580c-adf5-90ca67d8103a)
Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
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Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ube58158b-e8a2-5bc9-81e5-8504e7cd5817)
Bristol Lockett hurriedly moved toward her front door, wondering who would be visiting this late in the afternoon. Although it was still light outside, this particular Paris community was on the other side of town from the famous city center, where most people hung out on Friday nights and weekends. Normally, she would be there herself, but her habits had changed in the last couple of months.
She was one of those pregnant women who experienced morning sickness in the morning and at night. Smells alone would send her running to the nearest bathroom. Most morning sickness lasted until the twelfth week of pregnancy. She was in her sixteenth week and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. Her doctor had even placed her on a special diet to make sure she was getting sufficient nutrients into her body for her baby.
A glance out the peephole indicated her visitor was her best friend, Dionne Burcet. She and Dionne had met when Bristol first arrived in Paris four years ago to attend Académie des Beaux-Arts, which was considered one of the most prestigious and influential art schools in all of France. Dionne also attended the art academy and with so much in common, they’d hit it off immediately.
Dionne, who’d been born in Paris, had introduced Bristol to French culture, and Bristol had taken Dionne home with her to America last Christmas to meet her aunt Dolly and to experience New Year’s Eve in New York. A feeling of sadness fell over Bristol whenever she remembered that was the last holiday she and her aunt had spent together. Her aunt, her only relative, had died a few days later in her sleep.
Bristol opened the door smiling. “Dionne! This is a surprise. I thought you were leaving for—”
“I have something to tell you, Bristol.”
Bristol heard the urgency in Dionne’s voice, which resonated in her eyes, as well. “Okay, come on in. Would you like a cup of tea? I was just about to make a pot.”
“Yes, thanks.”
Bristol wondered about Dionne’s strange demeanor as she led her friend to the kitchen, which wasn’t far from the front door. She loved her studio apartment. It was small but just the right size for her. And it held a lot of memories. Her baby was conceived here, in her bed. She would miss this place when she moved back to the United States next month after graduation.
“Sit and tell me what’s wrong. Did you and Mark have a fight?”
Dionne shook her head as she sat down at the table. “No. It’s not about me, it’s about you.”
“Me?” Bristol said in surprise.
“Yes. You remember what you shared with me last month?”
“Yes. I told you I was pregnant.” Telling Dionne hadn’t been easy but she’d felt the need to confide in someone. The baby’s father was a man she’d met one day at a café. He had been a US navy SEAL out with a few of his friends and he’d flirted with her outrageously. She’d done something she had never done before and flirted back. There had been something about Laramie Cooper that had made her behave like a different person and for the next three days, over the Christmas holidays, they had enjoyed a holiday fling. It was a period in her life she would never forget. Her pregnancy made certain of that.
“Yes, from that guy. The American soldier.”
“Not just a soldier, Dionne. Laramie was a navy SEAL,” Bristol said, smiling proudly.
“Yes, the navy SEAL Laramie Cooper,” Dionne said.
From the time they’d been introduced, Bristol had liked his name and he’d said he liked hers. Laramie had told her very little about his work or even about himself. She knew he was an only child and his parents were still living in the US. He hadn’t said where.
Bristol regretted that Dionne had been away visiting her grandparents in Marseille for the holidays and hadn’t been around to meet Laramie. She believed her friend would have liked him. “What about him?”
“You told me how the two of you spent time together over the holidays and since finding out you were pregnant, you’ve been trying to locate him to let him know.”
Since she’d known very little about Laramie, other than his name and age, she had mailed a letter to him in care of the US Navy. The letter had been returned weeks ago stamped UNABLE TO LOCATE.
“Yes, and like I told you, it doesn’t matter to me that our time together was a no-strings affair, I believe he has a right to know about his child. I refused to do to him what my mother did to my father.”
For years, Bristol never knew her father and, according to her mother, she never told her father about Bristol. It was information her mother had taken with her to the grave. It was only after her mother’s death that Bristol’s aunt Dolly had given her the man’s name. She had met Randall Lockett at sixteen. He had been surprised to find out about her and had welcomed her into his life.
“Yes, I know. That’s why I decided to help you.”
Bristol raised a brow. “Help me?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Remember I told you about that guy—an American—I dated years ago? The one who worked at your embassy?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well, he was recently reassigned back to the embassy here and I ran into him. I gave him your SEAL’s name and asked if he would try locating him and forwarding him a message to contact you.”
Happiness eased into Bristol and spread to all parts of her body. Although it might have been nothing more than a holiday fling for Laramie Cooper, it had been a lot more for her. She had fallen in love with him. “Was your friend able to find him?”
Dionne slowly nodded her head. “Yes.”
Bristol stared at her friend, knowing there was more. The happiness she felt earlier began dissipating at the sadness she saw in Dionne’s eyes. “What is it, Dionne? What did you find out?”
All sorts of things began rushing through her mind. What if Laramie hadn’t been the single man he’d claimed to be and had a wife and children somewhere? When Dionne didn’t say anything, but looked down at the cup of tea Bristol had placed in front of her, Bristol slouched her shoulders in disappointment. “I think I know why you’re hesitating in telling me.”
Dionne looked back at her. “Do you?”
“Yes. He’s married. Although he told me he wasn’t, you found out differently, didn’t you?”
“Bristol.”
“It doesn’t matter. He has a right to know about his child anyway. If he decides never to be a part of my baby’s life, it will be his decision and—”
“That’s not it, Bristol,” Dionne cut in to say.
Bristol frowned. “Then what is it?”
