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The Blackstone Heir
The Blackstone Heir
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The Blackstone Heir

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You. Jacob ground his teeth together. Not because the shortening of his name bothered him, but because hearing it said in KC Gatlin’s husky voice reminded him of evenings being soothed by her presence after an upsetting day with his mom. Reminded him of long nights between the sheets.

Far too distant memories.

“Do I need a reason? Can’t I just enjoy the opportunity to watch a beautiful woman work the crowd?”

For the better part of a year, such a simple comment would have had her eyes sparkling, those full, naturally red lips tilting into a luscious smile, her mouth ready and willing to talk back. But not tonight.

“You never came to watch me before,” she said, then dropped her gaze to the bar and started scrubbing, leaving him bereft once more. So she wasn’t gonna make this easy.

He settled on a bar stool, watching that compact body displayed to advantage in a tight T-shirt and jeans. She acknowledged the move with a quick flick of her lashes, then studiously avoided looking at him again.

Just the way she’d ignored his phone calls. For seven months. He should have moved on by now, but his obsession had only grown. Now this successful, accomplished businessman found himself hunting the woman he craved in the local honky-tonk, because, well...because the cravings had become unbearable.

It no longer mattered that he couldn’t figure out how she would fit into his life plan without wreaking havoc on it. She was the woman he shouldn’t want, but the one woman he couldn’t forget.

So he sucked up the little pride he had left and leaned closer. “You never did say where you’d been, KC.”

She paused, then dropped the towel and met his gaze head-on. One of the things that had long enticed him was the very moment those turbulent hazel eyes turned his way, letting him see the woman inside and her mood, based on the dominant color of the day. Blue for calm and sunny. Green for sultry and sexy. Brown for angry or sad.

On tonight’s menu: swirling milk chocolate. Wonder what he’d done to piss her off.

He’d never had a clue. They’d hooked up every time he’d come home to see his mother or take care of some business for his grandfather, until he’d found himself making up excuses just to return to Black Hills so he could see her. Watch her face while he talked with her. Sleep wrapped around her sweet-scented body. Hell, he’d even flown her out to Philadelphia once when he’d had to cancel his trip to Black Hills because of business.

Man, that had been a weekend to remember.

But the blank look on her face told him she wasn’t into reminiscing. How much of a glutton for punishment was he willing to be?

“Come on, KC. Even as a friend, don’t I deserve an answer?”

“I thought silence was my answer.”

Burn. “Right.”

For just a moment, the blankness slipped, revealing a flash of emotion that he couldn’t interpret before it disappeared. But it revealed one important clue: indifference wasn’t the problem.

So what was she hiding?

The KC he’d known had been all on the outside, open with her emotions and actions. This closed-off version made him curious...and angry.

What had stripped away her joy, her spontaneity? Whatever it was, her attitude seemed to be reserved solely for him. He’d been watching her flirt and smile with other customers for an hour. The minute he’d appeared in front of her—shutdown.

Funny thing was, her spontaneity was one of the main things that drew him—and the one thing that had always kept him distant. Just thinking about living with uncertainty brought the barriers up. Other people found that kind of living by the seat of your pants exciting. He had enough of the unexpected in his life dealing with his twin; he didn’t need more on a permanent basis. Luke’s need for speed was as far from Jacob’s scheduled existence as one could be from the other. Not to mention that his high-risk career as a race-car driver worried Jacob a lot.

So again he had to ask: Why was he sitting here instead of celebrating his freedom from his own version of risk?

“Was it because of this mystery man? Did you move to be with him?” Though the thought of her finding someone else hurt, maybe it was for the best. He needed something to break this incredible, horrible addiction.

She leaned closer, bracing against the bar. With her petite frame, the edge hit her higher than her waist, which gave him a really good view of her breasts in her tight Lola’s T-shirt.

He was only human. Of course he looked.

Wait, was he seeing things? Because she seemed curvier than he remembered.

“Jacob,” she said, drawing his gaze upward to her expectant face. Luckily she didn’t call him on where he’d been looking. “Look, let’s not do this here, okay? Another time, maybe.”

“Why?” And why was he continuing to push this? “Is he here?”

“No, Jacob, that’s not it.”

The sudden sound of a phone ringing didn’t register at first. After all, the bar was full of music, laughter and talking from the Friday-evening crowd. But the ringtone was persistent, and gained volume until he couldn’t miss it. KC pulled out her phone and took one look at the display before answering.

She turned away, taking a few steps down the bar while she talked. He would have thought she’d completely dismissed him, except for the quick glances she kept shooting his way. After a few words he couldn’t hear, she disconnected. Then she simply walked away.

His body mourned. His sensibilities raged. What did he have to do to get a simple explanation? Something more than “I’m sorry.” Was that really too much to ask?

Determined to get answers, he stood up and strode after her. He came around the far side of the bar to catch a quick glimpse of her slipping out the back door. He knew her mother and grandmother lived in a small house behind the bar, so that must be where she was heading. If he intercepted her on her way back in, he could confront her without an audience.

All the better.

He could just make out her figure in the darkness as he made his way outside. Her body was silhouetted in the porch light from her family’s house. He slowed his long stride. As she mounted the steps, the door opened and a woman who looked enough like her to be her mother stepped out.

That was when he heard another noise. But what caught his attention in that moment was what the older woman was holding.

A crying baby.

Jacob’s world narrowed to the child.

“Goodness, girl.” The voice of KC’s mother drifted to where he stood in the darkness. “I can’t get Carter to stop crying for nothing. He wants his mama and no one else.”

Jacob’s legs carried him closer, his brain on hold as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

KC reached for the baby with the ease of a woman familiar with the move. The crying stopped almost immediately as she snuggled the child close into the crook of her neck. So natural. So beautiful.

So his.

The knowledge exploded over him in a wave of heat. As she swayed in the porch light, Jacob couldn’t look away from the unusual dark golden curls that covered the baby’s head.

“My brother and I had those same kind of curls,” he murmured inanely.

In the newfound silence, they must have heard. KC jerked around to face him. But it was her mother Jacob found himself watching as the older woman’s rounded eyes confirmed the suspicions in Jacob’s whirling brain.

“KC,” she said sharply, then stepped back through the door into the house.

KC didn’t look in his direction again. She disappeared through the yellow rectangle of light in the entrance before slamming the door behind her, leaving Jacob alone in the dark.

It took a moment to get his feet to obey. As if by remote control, they carried him back to his brothers. He sank into the seat without really feeling it, seeing any of it. The numbness kept him from thinking, from dealing with the reality of what he’d just seen.

The bubble burst as he looked across the booth at his twin brother. Instantly, images of photographs from their childhood flooded his brain. Two boys, both with that thick dark blond hair. Curls all over until they’d gotten old enough to tame them.

“Jacob?” Luke said, hunching forward into his line of vision. “Jacob, are you okay? Where’d you go?”

Reaching out, Jacob picked up his half-full glass of wine and lifted it to his lips to perform the ultimate wine drinker’s depravity. He chugged until every single drop was gone.

Then he set the glass down carefully and lay his palm flat beside it, praying the solidity of the table would ground him in the spinning room.

Luke lay his own palm on the table, mirroring Jacob’s. “You cool?” Their version of letting each other know they were there.

And just like that, the words came to him, along with the anger. “I think I’m a daddy.”

Two (#ulink_86cdee83-5c19-50f7-89c7-8e854d09d68f)

Twenty-four hours later, Jacob finally stopped seething enough to confront KC. When he’d imagined what it would be like to find out he was going to be a parent, he’d pictured being across the table from his wife at an intimate dinner or seated next to each other in a doctor’s office. Instead, the most gorgeous woman in the world had made him a father—and failed to mention it for twelve months.

The numbness had melted into rage, keeping Jacob awake long into the night. He went over the figures time and again. They hadn’t spoken for seven months—he was ashamed that he could remember it to the day. He didn’t have a lot of experience, but he’d guess the baby to be three to four months old. So how long had she known she was pregnant before she left? Two months? Three? Either way, they’d definitely been together when she found out. And those curls proved the baby to be a Blackstone heir.

He knew better than to see her before he calmed down. He couldn’t be responsible for his actions while struggling with the deepest emotions he’d ever known. Control was his drug of choice—being out of control was something he preferred to keep well hidden. So he waited until he had his reactions under lock and key, and then he got in the car and drove.

KC lived a little outside town in a tiny house. Though there were other houses around, it wasn’t really a subdivision. More of a series of dwellings that had sprung up over time as family members and friends and even acquaintances bought land and started building. The result was individual, with plenty of space and large trees. Ideal starter homes. Just imagining the possibilities ignited his anger once more.

He knew she’d be there—familiarity with her schedule gave him an advantage.

Sure enough, the door opened before he even knocked. She didn’t speak, but simply turned back into the house, leaving him to follow. His gaze tracked her, cataloging every inch as she walked to the far end of the living room. Yeah, that body had changed, all right.

If he’d known what he was looking for, he’d have noticed right away. He’d been too busy searching for a connection in her eyes. But drinking in the whole package in jeans and a tank top, he saw the more dramatic curve from her waist to her hips, the added fullness in her breasts and a touch of softness in her jawline.

He’d thought nothing could make her more beautiful, but somehow having his baby had. And he hadn’t been allowed to be a part of it.

Irritation with his attraction only ramped up his intensity. Carefully shuttering every window to his soul, he faced off with her in true Blackstone fashion.

He jerked his head in the direction of the driveway. “Someone else here?” he asked, referring to the car parked behind hers. So help him, if there was a man living here, he just might explode. Had she moved on that quickly? Had she let another man care for Jacob’s child?

“Mom,” she said quietly, slightly dampening his fuse. “She’s in the nursery with Carter.”

His throat almost closed. “Carter, huh?”

“Yes. Jake Carter.”

Jake. Her nickname for Jacob—spoken with laughter, with intensity, with passion. It seemed more personal to name the baby that than to give him Jacob’s last name.

“So you admit that he’s mine?”

“Of course,” she said, as if it made perfect sense under the circumstances. How could anything she’d done make perfect sense?

He stalked closer. “Why would you do this, KC? Was I really so horrible to you that you refused to let me be a part of—this?”

“That was never the issue, Jacob—”

“Then what was?” A really deep breath helped him lower his voice. It kept rising without his permission. Control. He needed control. “What was the issue, KC? Because I can’t imagine one big enough that you told yourself it was okay to deceive me. To keep my son a secret from me.”

Her arms crossed over her ribs, pushing those delectable breasts higher in the tank top. Something he shouldn’t notice right now. At all.

“I did not deceive you. I never lied. I was going to tell you. I just hadn’t figured out how.”

“So he’s three months old?”

“Yes, a week ago.”

“So at any time in the past twelve months you could have picked up the phone. Or hell, just answered the phone when I called.”

“I was afraid to. Going away just seemed the safest thing until I was sure what to do.”

Jacob was surprised by the low rumble of his voice. “Safe? How? What the hell would safety have to do with it? I would never hurt you.”

“I know that, Jacob, but it wasn’t—”

The emotional roller coaster of the night caught up with him, pushing him past reasonable thought. “Know what? It doesn’t matter. Fact is, you deprived me of three months of knowing my—son,” he choked out. “Not a note, a card or a call. Hell, not even a text. By the way, I’m pregnant. That’s all it would have taken, KC, but you didn’t even have the decency to do that.”

He’d made himself available, chased after her like a dog with no sense, and this was what he got for it.

He came even closer until he loomed over her petite frame. “So now, I’ll have what I want.”

He wished her deep breath didn’t draw his gaze downward. The low-level buzz of desire beneath his anger made him want to curse. He should not be attracted to a woman who could betray him. But he couldn’t help it.

“Jake, please let me explain.”

He refused to look in those turbulent eyes again. “Too late. No talking. No thinking. Now I will act.”

She straightened, bracing her spine, which was just as well.

“Carter will come home.”

Her jaw clenched. “He is home.”

“My home.” Some sick part of him took pleasure in the panic creeping over her features. “He’s a Blackstone. He should be with his family.”

She swallowed hard. “Jacob, please don’t do this.”

“Mark my words, KC. I will make you regret what you’ve done. I promise.”

* * *

As soon as he’d stormed out of her house, KC began to dread the moment Jacob would act on his threat. The longer she waited, the more her stomach hurt.

She knew she’d made a bad choice, but given the circumstances, she thought she’d done the best she could. Waiting until James Blackstone was dead to tell Jacob about Carter had seemed like the safest option for protecting her baby, along with her family. In the absence of a reliable husband or father, her mother had given her all to raising and providing for KC and her brother. KC had felt that pull of loyalties every day that she’d been away, but in the end, she’d chosen to take care of the women who had raised her. Her mother and grandmother would have no defense against James Blackstone if he’d retaliated by taking away their livelihood on a whim.

But Jacob didn’t believe her, because he was acting on emotion, not facts.

How did she get him to listen to those facts now? She knew James’s lawyer, Canton, could work all kinds of voodoo if he wanted. Was Jacob even now making arrangements to take her baby from her? The thought shook her deeper than any of the rest. Not just for the typical mommy reason: being away from her child for more than a day was more than she could handle right now. But Jacob was essentially an unknown as a parent.