wanting to be as far away from him as possible.
"Sit down." His tone was that of a man used to being in command.
"I won't stay here to be insulted," she said in a low voice.
Sean leaned back in his chair, lazily lighting a cigarette. "They always say the truth hurts." He spoke briskly. "But that isn't why I brought you here."
"Then why are we here?"
"I suggest we eat our meal first." He spoke calmly as the waitress approached them with their food.
Valerie looked at her chicken enchilada without any appetite. But knowing Sean would not say anymore until after dinner, she attempted to swallow a few bites. There had been times when she had wondered what would happen if he ever appeared in her life again, but she had never thought beyond that. Glancing up under her lowered lashes, she noticed the wide gold band on his left hand. Her hand trembled as she recalled the moment when she had slipped it on his finger. She took a hasty gulp of her drink, letting the alcohol soothe her frazzled nerves. She pushed her plate away, tensely waiting for Sean to finish. He looked up, noticing the faint trembling of her chin.
"When did you cut your hair?" he asked unexpectedly.
"T-two years ago," she stammered, surprised by his sudden question.
"Makes you look younger in some ways." He lit another cigarette. "Now, as to this cozy family reunion..." His lips twisted cruelly.
"It's about Michael, isn't it?" She felt a wave of panic inside.
"How old is he?" he asked.
"Three and a half," Valerie replied, anger beginning to override panic. "What's wrong? Don't you believe he's your son?"
"I'd have to be blind to miss the resemblance." His smile was amused. "So I wouldn't suggest that you try to make me believe he isn't mine. After all, Craig has blond hair."
Valerie gasped at his malicious remark.
"And, as he is mine, I should have some say in his upbringing," Sean continued.
"In what way?" She was suspicious.
"He needs a father," he stated coldly.
"He has me; that's enough," she retorted.
"You may be able to soothe a stomach ache or chase away the bogeyman, but you can't teach him to play baseball or show him a man's world," he pointed out—correctly, to her irritation. "You can't do everything for him, Val."
"What you're saying is that you want to take him away from me," she replied in a choked voice.
His dark eyes took in the naked pain on her delicate features. "Not exactly—just that both of us should give him a home." He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Let him find out he has a father, too."
"I'd like to go, please." Valerie fumbled for her purse and fled the restaurant before her tears could fall.
In the parking lot, her taut nerves threatened to break as she waited beside the car. Sean unlocked the passenger's door and helped her in before walking around to the driver's side. He slid behind the wheel, then turned, reaching out to grip her chin, jerking it roughly until she faced him. Green eyes stared into brown ones, a small animal mesmerized by a larger one ready to attack. Sean's fingertips caressed her jawline and moved sensuously along her throat. Valerie trembled under his touch as his fingers tightened convulsively around her throat.
"How does Saunders make love, Valerie, my sweet?" he mused, tightening his grip until tears sprang from her eyes. "Do you curl up to him in the middle of the night? Or utter those throaty moans of joy as he possesses you?"
"Do you enjoy abusing women, Sean?" She finally managed to choke out the words. "Does it turn you on?"
A look of disgust appeared on his granite features as he released her so suddenly she flopped back against the seat. He turned, flicking on the ignition, silently driving her back to her apartment. She tried to make a hasty escape, but his reflexes were faster than hers. He was out of the car and at the passenger's door by the time she unbuckled her safety belt.
"Thank you for dinner," Valerie said stiffly. "But you don't need to come up with
"Sit down." His tone was that of a man used to being in command.
"I won't stay here to be insulted," she said in a low voice.
Sean leaned back in his chair, lazily lighting a cigarette. "They always say the truth hurts." He spoke briskly. "But that isn't why I brought you here."
"Then why are we here?"
"I suggest we eat our meal first." He spoke calmly as the waitress approached them with their food.
Valerie looked at her chicken enchilada without any appetite. But knowing Sean would not say anymore until after dinner, she attempted to swallow a few bites. There had been times when she had wondered what would happen if he ever appeared in her life again, but she had never thought beyond that. Glancing up under her lowered lashes, she noticed the wide gold band on his left hand. Her hand trembled as she recalled the moment when she had slipped it on his finger. She took a hasty gulp of her drink, letting the alcohol soothe her frazzled nerves. She pushed her plate away, tensely waiting for Sean to finish. He looked up, noticing the faint trembling of her chin.
"When did you cut your hair?" he asked unexpectedly.
"T-two years ago," she stammered, surprised by his sudden question.
"Makes you look younger in some ways." He lit another cigarette. "Now, as to this cozy family reunion..." His lips twisted cruelly.
"It's about Michael, isn't it?" She felt a wave of panic inside.
"How old is he?" he asked.
"Three and a half," Valerie replied, anger beginning to override panic. "What's wrong? Don't you believe he's your son?"
"I'd have to be blind to miss the resemblance." His smile was amused. "So I wouldn't suggest that you try to make me believe he isn't mine. After all, Craig has blond hair."
Valerie gasped at his malicious remark.
"And, as he is mine, I should have some say in his upbringing," Sean continued.
"In what way?" She was suspicious.
"He needs a father," he stated coldly.
"He has me; that's enough," she retorted.
"You may be able to soothe a stomach ache or chase away the bogeyman, but you can't teach him to play baseball or show him a man's world," he pointed out—correctly, to her irritation. "You can't do everything for him, Val."
"What you're saying is that you want to take him away from me," she replied in a choked voice.
His dark eyes took in the naked pain on her delicate features. "Not exactly—just that both of us should give him a home." He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Let him find out he has a father, too."
"I'd like to go, please." Valerie fumbled for her purse and fled the restaurant before her tears could fall.
In the parking lot, her taut nerves threatened to break as she waited beside the car. Sean unlocked the passenger's door and helped her in before walking around to the driver's side. He slid behind the wheel, then turned, reaching out to grip her chin, jerking it roughly until she faced him. Green eyes stared into brown ones, a small animal mesmerized by a larger one ready to attack. Sean's fingertips caressed her jawline and moved sensuously along her throat. Valerie trembled under his touch as his fingers tightened convulsively around her throat.
"How does Saunders make love, Valerie, my sweet?" he mused, tightening his grip until tears sprang from her eyes. "Do you curl up to him in the middle of the night? Or utter those throaty moans of joy as he possesses you?"
"Do you enjoy abusing women, Sean?" She finally managed to choke out the words. "Does it turn you on?"
A look of disgust appeared on his granite features as he released her so suddenly she flopped back against the seat. He turned, flicking on the ignition, silently driving her back to her apartment. She tried to make a hasty escape, but his reflexes were faster than hers. He was out of the car and at the passenger's door by the time she unbuckled her safety belt.
"Thank you for dinner," Valerie said stiffly. "But you don't need to come up with
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