“Look, Lori, I’m fine with it. I’ll write the letter when I get home. I hope you get the baby. But I don’t appreciate you calling my mother. Although this should go without saying, leave her out of whatever happens between us.”

Who was Lori? His most recent girlfriend? Someone he was still dating but didn’t classify as a girlfriend? And what was this about a baby? Had he fathered another child?

The answers to those questions were none of Francesca’s business. Lowering her hand, she scurried back to the bed and tried to ignore the conversation. But now that she was aware of it, she couldn’t avoid hearing the rest, particularly when he raised his voice.

“It’s not up to you to decide that,” he said. “I’ve kept your little secret all these years, the least you can do is have some courtesy when you want something from me…. What’s the rush? Anything I have to say probably won’t matter, anyway. It’s been too long since we were married.”

Francesca sank onto the edge of the bed. He’d been married and divorced since they were together? Somehow she hadn’t expected that. She was quick to remind herself that once she’d turned him loose, he had every right to do what he pleased. It just came as a surprise—and added fuel to her determination to keep some emotional distance between them. He was racking up quite a number of failed relationships….

Not that her romance record was much better. She hadn’t been married or had any children, but she’d drifted from one man to the next. Even Roland, someone she’d dated steadily for over a year, hadn’t meant enough to her to continue the relationship once he started pressing for a permanent commitment. Her feelings never passed “lukewarm” for anybody.

Except Jonah. From the beginning he’d been unique.

“I’ll send it to you when I get home,” he said again. “Until then, I’m tied up with an important case…. No, I can’t meet you…. That’s not true…. I have to go. I’ll be in touch,” he said, and the silence told her he’d disconnected.

Trying to feign sleep so he wouldn’t realize that she’d picked up on so much of his conversation, Francesca crawled toward the pillows, but he came out of the bathroom immediately, catching her before she could settle in. At that point, she thought he might comment on his phone call, since he had to know she’d overheard it, but he didn’t.

“Want to shower?” he asked. “I’d like to grab breakfast before our meeting today.”

She deliberated whether or not to ignore what she’d heard, but couldn’t quite convince herself to do so. “Who’s Lori?”

Wearing nothing but a pair of jeans with the fly half-buttoned, he rummaged through the closet for a shirt. “No one important.”

“You don’t consider an ex-wife important?”

He selected a clean T-shirt. “Not anymore.”

“How long ago were you married?”

“Long enough that I’d rather forget all about it.”

As unreasonable as it was, jealousy lanced through her. “You have a child with this woman?”

He threw her a scowl. “What, were you taking notes?”

“I couldn’t help overhearing.” That was true—sort of. “We don’t have a child together. Thank God.”

But he’d definitely referred to a baby…. “Why all the secrecy, Jonah?”

“It’s not secrecy. There’s just no reason to go into it. These days you and I have a professional relationship, remember?” he said with a facetious wink.

“Fine. Be that way.” Getting up, she went into the bathroom, but by the time she’d stepped out of the shower and brushed her teeth, curiosity had gotten the better of her again.

“I’ll trade you,” she offered, poking her head into the room.

He stood at the desk, shoving his wallet and change into his pockets, but at this he turned. “What are you talking about?”

“You answer one question of mine, and I’ll answer one question of yours.”

Evidently less interested than she’d expected him to be, he powered down his laptop. “What makes you think I have any questions?”

She should’ve dressed in the bathroom, but she’d been so preoccupied she hadn’t thought to bring any clothes in with her, so she pulled the towel she’d wrapped around her higher. “You cared for me so little that you’re not curious about anything that’s gone on in my life since we were together?”

Scowling, he glanced up; he’d been about to slide his computer into its case. “Do you really believe I didn’t care, Francesca?”

She smiled to hide the fact that she didn’t know what to believe. “That’s a question, isn’t it?”

Kneading his forehead, he blew out a sigh. “I know I shouldn’t get involved in this, but…it won’t be the first time I’ve done something I regret.”

“Then we have a deal?”

His obvious suspicion created a marked hesitancy. “What do you want to know?”

“How long were you married?”

“One year.”

“Only one year?”

“Thirteen months, to be exact.”

“How long ago?”

“Uh-uh-uh.” He wagged a finger at her. “That’s two questions. It’s my turn.”

Concealing her frustration with a shrug, she said, “Fine. Shoot.”

“Who’s the man standing with you in front of the Lincoln Memorial in that picture on your bar?”

“His name’s Roland Perenski.”

“I don’t care about his name,” he said with a grimace. “I want to know his significance to you.”

She arched her eyebrows. “Then you should’ve asked, because a second question is breaking the rules, as you’ve already pointed out.”

He came around the bed. “You cheated me on that answer.”

“No, I didn’t. I answered honestly.” But it wasn’t the answer he’d been after, and she knew it.

“Okay, one more question,” he said.

“Each?”

“Each.”

“No problem.”

“Roland is…”

She pretended to adjust the bandage covering her stitches, which was now a little damp, thanks to her shower. “One of my ex-boyfriends.”

“How long ago were you together?”




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