“You think she was behind the cameras in Samantha’s apartment?”

“I’d bet good money on it.”

“So what did she say to your wife?”

“Enough to make her leave.” No use sugar coating the situation. It wasn’t as if Jeff wouldn’t be one of the first to know if there were legal trouble.

“Left? What do you mean?”

“Never mind. I’ll get in touch in a few days. In the meantime, draft a letter to Parker dictating that a breach in confidentiality might render anything from his office null and void.” Dammit. He was a tyrant. No better than his dead father. Even now, in the midst of losing his wife, his child, he thought about the eventual end.

“On second thought, do nothing. No, wait… I need you to do something else.”

Blake spelled out his wishes, leaving no doubt what he wanted to happen.

An hour later, Blake found himself in front of his computer. He’d opened his browser expecting to see if Samantha had used it to find a flight to California.

When the history pointed to websites about condoms and pregnancy rates associated with them, he took a step back.

If Vanessa knew about the will, she knew about the need for an heir… Vanessa would have manipulated a pregnancy with him if she’d been given enough time. Thankfully, Blake had met Sam and put an end to his relationship with Vanessa. All that was left of that woman was the boxes of condoms she’d left behind.

“Sonofabitch!”

Blake shoved out of the chair and rushed into the bedroom. The box of leftover condoms in the drawer only had two in the box. He lifted a package to his eye, didn’t see a thing, and then held it to the light.

Heat slammed into his chest when he saw a pinprick hole through the middle. Oh, God. “Samantha.”

His wife must have found these and thought the worse of him. And why not? It wasn’t as if he told her the condoms had come from an ex.

Dammit, what was she thinking? She probably thought he was worse than Dan, just another man in her life who let her down, one who lied to get what he wanted. He wanted to call her back, force her to listen to him. What proof did he really have?

The image of Vanessa shot into his mind and his pissed meter struck an all time high. The anger he had for his father was a walk in a meadow compared to his need for revenge on his ex lover.

Blake picked up the phone and called in a few favors.

“Carter… I need you to do something for me.”

****

Twenty-four hours later Blake stood in front of the exclusive high-rise condominium complex, twisting his hands so hard Samantha would be proud. Not going to her had been hell. But he wouldn’t confront Sam until Vanessa paid for what she’d done.

The sickly sick floral perfume that followed Vanessa wherever she went arrested his nose before he saw her. His heartbeat sped, not because of any residual feelings or desires for the woman, but with a deep-seated hatred. If she ruined his chances of a future with his wife, he’d find a way to ruin her. He made the promise to himself as he pushed away from the building and caught Vanessa’s arm.

She gasped, twisted toward him, and then relaxed when she recognized the face behind the hand. “Blake? Darling, how are you?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carter, who had several friends in the NYPD, and an undercover detective walk into the high-rise, completely undetected by the woman in front of him.

“I wondered if you had a minute.” His skin crawled just thinking of being agreeable to her for the time it took the officers to search her home.

Her guarded expression shifted, as if she was unsure of what Blake was going to do. Their last encounter had been less than pleasant, but he didn’t want her running off.

“I didn’t think we had anything more to say to each other.”

“I wanted to thank you for your warning,” he rolled the lie off his tongue so easily even he believed it.

“Warning? About what?”

“About Samantha not being happy until she owned my soul. I thought I could do a nice quiet marriage, nothing packed with too much emotion or loyalties…” he let his words trail to see what Vanessa would do with the baited hook.

“Oh, Blake.” She removed her sunglasses and sent him a pointed stare. She pushed out her lower lip with an expression that mirrored sympathy. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure. This pregnancy. I wasn’t expecting it; it isn’t like we weren’t careful.” He glanced around them, pulled her away from prying eyes, and lowered his voice for effect. “How can a woman get pregnant using condoms? I doubt it isn’t mine… but…”

Vanessa hung her head. “Oh, my… I heard once of a woman tampering with the condoms to ensure a pregnancy. Do you think she’d do something that severe?”

Blake closed his eyes, thankful his sunglasses hid the majority of his expressions. Bile bubbled in the back of his throat. What a vengeful bitch. He sent a mental signal to whoever was watching for the men in Vanessa’s apartment to hurry the hell up. Every second in this woman’s presence was one Blake wasn’t sharing with his wife.

“I can’t imagine…” he said.

“I should be angry at you. After all you up and married her shortly after we’d…”

Blake sighed. “I…” the phone in his pocket buzzed. He shifted it to his palm and read Carter’s text. Got her!!!

The lie he’d been about to spew died on his tongue. Instead, he let the truth sing. “I love her.”

“What?”