Good God, she was pregnant!
     Deputy U.S. Marshal Rafe Stockwell came to an abrupt halt inside the doorway to the offices of Carlyle & Carlyle in Grandview, Texas. Crushing the brim of the pearl-gray Stetson hat he carried in his left hand, he rocked back on his boot heels and stared at his former lover, Ms. Caroline Carlyle, Attorney at Law. She stood beside a large, jumbled stack of boxes at the far end of the reception area, checking something off on a clipboard, her concentration so intense she didn't notice him.
     It was a darn good thing, too. He needed the time to close his mouth. He couldn't believe the change in her appearance. She'd been sleek and chic when she'd dumped him three months and twenty-nine days ago. Not that he'd been counting.
     Now, here she was, filling out a maternity dress and wearing plain black flats instead of the sexy high heels he'd been used to seeing her in. And her sunshine-yellow hair had been cut into a short, puffy style that curled under just below her jawline. It looked attractive on her, but he'd loved playing with her long, silky hair so much, he felt a twinge of sadness at the thought of anyone taking scissors to it.
     He'd never had a thing for pregnant ladies before, but Caroline still was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. In his eyes, the pregnancy had actually enhanced her looks. It had softened her features somehow, made her seem less perfect, warmer and more approachable. An invisible hand wrapped around his heart and squeezed it hard.
     He was hardly an expert on pregnant women, but the way her belly was hanging right out there, he wondered just how far along she was. Five months? Six? Maybe even seven?
     She flipped the top page on her clipboard, then heaved a dispirited sigh. Rubbing the small of her back as if it ached, she closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side. She looked tired.
     An urge to protect her and take care of her surged inside Rafe. Gritting his teeth, he reminded himself that she was only a friend these days; her well-being now was another man's responsibility. Her pregnancy had nothing to do with him.
     Or did it?
     The hair on the back of Rafe's neck zinged a warning to his nervous system. Whoa. Wait just a damn minute.
     He blinked, then focused his gaze on Caroline's belly again. Five, six or seven months? If any of those numbers was right, it would mean that the baby she was carrying could be—
     No. No, it couldn't. She would have told him. He was sure of it. Nevertheless his heart suddenly revved faster than one of his twin brother Cord's pricey little sports cars and the strangest sensation invaded Rafe's insides. He shut his eyes and raked his right hand through his hair, but the thought he'd always considered unthinkable echoed in his mind.
     What if that baby was his?
     He'd been mighty careful about birth control, but the only truly foolproof method was abstinence, and he sure hadn't practiced that with Caroline. Making love with her had been.... He wasn't going to think about that just now. He needed to use his head and keep other, more unruly parts of his anatomy under control.
     Besides, there was no sense jumping to any wild conclusions.
     Caroline didn't have "accidents." Shoot, she was almost as much of a control freak as he was. No way would she allow herself to get pregnant without a husband around to make everything nice and socially acceptable. Rafe hadn't heard anything about her getting married, but he'd been working a lot. And, because of her father's battle with Alzheimer's disease, she might've decided to have a small, quiet wedding.
     So what if she was really big? Maybe she was carrying twins. Maybe twins ran in her husband's family. The same way they did in his own.
     Oh, God. What if that baby really was his?
     "Aw, jeez," he muttered, shoving his fingers through his hair again.
     Caroline started at the sound of his voice, then whipped her head around and stared at him. Her blue eyes widened in what looked like pleasure when she first caught sight of him. A heartbeat later her expression changed to one of shock, which was quickly covered by a mask of professional courtesy. She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin, presenting him with the poised image he'd come to expect from her. Nothing flustered Ms. Caroline Carlyle for long.
     "Rafe, what a nice surprise," she said. "It's been a long time."
     Rafe had to smile. He'd forgotten how much her proper little Boston accent tickled him. Her folks should have let her come home to Texas from that Massachusetts boarding school more often.
     "It sure has, Caroline." He walked farther into the suite of offices, glancing at her belly, then shifting his attention to her face. "Well, I guess congratulations are in order."
     She sidestepped a box and came toward him. Damn. Pregnant or not, with or without high heels, she still had the sexiest legs and the greatest walk in Texas.
     "Thank you, Rafe." She offered him her right hand. "What can I do for you today?"
     Still reeling from the possible implications of her pregnancy, Rafe could barely remember his own name, much less the original reason for his visit. He tossed his partially mangled hat onto the reception desk and shook her hand, then instinctively reached for her left hand and lifted it up beside her right one. Her fingers felt small and fragile in his.
     She wore a plain gold wedding band.
     Rafe swallowed hard, telling himself he felt relief that she was married. Rubbing his thumbs over the backs of her fingers, he cleared his throat and raised his gaze to meet hers. "Who's the lucky guy?"
     Wariness skated across her expression, but she recovered in the next instant and smiled at him. How could she stand there looking so composed, when he felt so damn confused and about half crazy for thinking what he was thinking? Dammit, he wasn't meant for marriage and fatherhood. So why were his guts tied into painful knots at the thought of her exchanging vows with another man?
     "Actually, there isn't a lucky guy." She pulled her hands from his and stepped back. "It just didn't work out."
     "Are you saying the baby's father left you?" The knots in Rafe's guts gave a savage twist while he waited for her answer. When she'd ended their relationship, Caroline had told him there was someone else she wanted to spend more of her time with, but she hadn't mentioned any names. He could only hope that at one important time there had been another guy besides him. Of course, if he found out who it was, Rafe would probably have to kill him.
     "He doesn't want a family," she said, glancing away for a moment. Shrugging as if that didn't bother her a bit, she added, "Fortunately, I do."
     Anyone who didn't know her well would have believed that shrug was for real. Rafe didn't buy it. Caroline was as conventional as they came. She never would've willingly chosen to be a single mother. "So why the ring?"
     "We live in the Bible belt," she said with a wry smile. "It saves me a lot of hassle when other people think I'm married."
     "Who's the father?"
     She met his gaze again. Comprehension of what he was driving at dawned in her eyes and she let out a mirthless laugh. "Oh, for pity's sake, don't worry, Rafe. My baby is no concern of yours."
     "Really?" Her words failed to reassure him. He'd never known her to lie outright, but she could skate around the truth as easily as any other lawyer. She was skating hard and fast now. "When's your due date?"
     "That's none of your business." Pulling herself up to her full height, she crossed her arms over her breasts.
     Seeing her blue eyes flash with anger sparked his own. Years of law enforcement training and experience kicked in, however, prompting him to clamp down on his emotions. "Sure it is, Caro. Your baby needs a father. If he won't do the right thing by you on his own, I'll be glad to convince him for you."
     "Oh, please." She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "If you can't make it all the way into the twenty-first century, do at least join the twentieth. Millions of women raise children alone every year and do a fine job of it. I'm more than capable of supporting myself and my child."
     "Don't give me that hogwash," Rafe said, shaking his head. "You don't believe it any more than I do. Who's the father?"
     "That's none of your concern."
     Rafe silently counted to fifteen and moved in closer, intentionally crowding her. In spite of his training, Caroline's attitude was seriously starting to tick him off. "Wrong answer. If you're as far along as you look, I'd say the chances are excellent that baby's mine."
     Her face flushed, but she didn't flinch. Her hands curved protectively around the jutting mound beneath her clothes. "She's my baby, Rafe Stockwell. Mine and mine alone."
     "Aw, come on, sugar. You know it doesn't work quite that way." Lowering his voice, Rafe gave her the best smile he could manage. "You must've had a little help from somebody."
     "My baby's father is my business." Though she was a good five inches shorter than his six-foot, one-inch height, she still managed to give the impression she was looking down her nose at him. "I don't intend to discuss it with you or anyone else."
     "Dammit, Caroline, I'm not completely ignorant. I know how long it takes to make a baby, and I can count months as well as anyone." He paused for another deep breath, but it didn't help much. "Right now I'd bet my badge we were together when that baby was conceived, and--"
     "Bet whatever you choose, but--"
     "Don't even try to tell me you were having sex with someone else at the same time you were sleeping with me. I know you better than that."
     "Stop browbeating me." Hectic color suddenly faded from her cheeks, making her look wan and exhausted. "I don't need this right now."
     "Hey, I'm not judging you, Caro." He reached out and cupped the side of her face with his palm, coaxing her to meet his gaze. "I'm just thinking about your well-being and the baby's."
     "We're fine." She pushed his hand away and stepped back, her eyes silently warning him not to touch her again. "I know what I'm doing."
     "Maybe so. But you shouldn't have to go through this by yourself. Any man who gets a woman pregnant should face up to his responsibilities and do the right thing by her and his kid."
     "No, thank you," she said, shaking her head at him. "I'd rather be alone than marry someone who views me and my baby as responsibilities he has to face up to."
     "Would it really be that bad?" Rafe asked.
     She shot him a droll look. "Trust me. He's not, as they say, ‘the marrying kind.'"
     Rafe's insides froze. He'd always been honest with the women he dated, and he'd often used that very phrase--not the marrying kind--to explain his plans to remain single. Caroline's use of that phrase was hardly a coincidence; she made her living by using precise language. Just how dense did she think he was? So much for the Mr. Nice Guy approach.
     Allowing a sharp edge into his voice, he said, "I deserve to know the truth, Caroline. Is that my baby you're carrying?"
     She stuck her pert little nose in the air and spread a haughty layer of New England frost onto every syllable she spoke. "I don't intend to discuss this any further."
     "You can't do--"
     "I said, I don't intend to discuss this." She shot him a glare that made him sincerely glad she hated guns, then waved one hand toward the stacked boxes. "As you can see, I'm busy. If you have business to conduct, I'll be happy to help you. Otherwise, I need to finish my work."
     Damn, frustrating woman. He studied her for a moment, noting the fierce determination lurking behind her professional veneer. He still didn't have the straight answer he craved, but he'd learned early in their affair that when dealing with Caroline, a strategic retreat sometimes was more effective than a frontal assault. He wasn't about to let this topic go for good, but at the moment, there was no sense in getting her any more riled up at him than she already was.
     He needed to leave before he said something he'd regret. He'd come back at a more opportune time. Like, in about a week, when he had a firmer grip on his temper.
     "All right. I'm sorry, Caroline," he said, backing off a step. "I didn't mean to upset you."
     He turned around and took two strides before she stopped him. "Wait a minute, Rafe. Why did you come here today?"
     "It doesn't matter." He picked up his hat from the desk, then looked over his shoulder at her. "I'll take care of it later."
     "If there's some business we need to conduct, I'd rather do it now." She rubbed her right hand over her belly. "I really don't know how much longer I'll be working."
     "I'll come back soon, then." Without another word, he turned around and left, feeling as if she'd taken his whole world and blasted it into a billion pieces. And wondering how in hell he was ever going to be able to put it back together.
     Caroline waited until the office door shut behind Rafe and she heard the muted hum of the elevator working. Only then did she release her pent breath and grab the back of the receptionist's chair to support her wobbly legs. Pulling it closer, she collapsed onto the seat and wrapped her arms around herself, needing to still the inner shaking she'd worked so hard to hide from Rafe's too observant eyes. Had she succeeded? She didn't think so.
     "Oh, Lord," she murmured, rocking back and forth. The instant she'd seen him standing there in the entryway, she'd experienced a flash of pure joy. She'd wanted to run to him, throw her arms around him and savor the warmth of his embrace.
     How she'd missed seeing his handsome face and his gorgeous, midnight-blue eyes. When she'd realized those eyes were staring at her as if a pregnant woman was a horror to behold, however, she'd had to face the heartbreaking truth about her future with him one more time. She simply couldn't have one. If ever there was a man who truly needed his freedom, that man was Rafe Stockwell.
     For all these months she'd managed to avoid him, his family and anyone else who knew both of them. Why on earth had he found it necessary to visit her office today? While she would love to believe that he'd missed her as much as she'd missed him and wanted to restart their relationship, she knew there must be another reason. But what could it be?
     She wished he'd told her. They could have handled whatever he needed and she wouldn't have to see him again. At least not anytime soon. Unfortunately now that he'd smelled a mystery to solve, he would never let go of it until he knew the truth. And then what would she do?
     Groaning, Caroline massaged her aching temples with her fingertips. As if sensing her distress, the baby chose that moment to practice her high kicks. Caroline cupped her right hand over a tiny foot pressing against the inside of her abdomen.
     "It's all right, little one," she said. "We'll get through this somehow."
     For one insane moment she considered the merits of going home, packing a couple of suitcases and simply disappearing. She could change her name and start over somewhere she'd never been before. Somewhere she and the baby could start a new life without having to worry about what anyone else wanted and needed. It sounded absolutely wonderful.
     It was also impossible. She didn't want to leave her obstetrician at this stage of her pregnancy. And, even though he no longer recognized her and had round-the-clock care, she couldn't abandon her father. She also had a thriving law practice to run and clients who were depending on her to keep their legal affairs in order.
     Most important, she could run away from Rafe, but she couldn't hide from him. His job with the Marshal's Service involved apprehending federal fugitives. With his experience and resources, he could find anyone. The part of her that still loved Rafe would never want to hide from him anyway.
     Besides being tall, dark, handsome and independently wealthy, he was extremely intelligent and a gifted raconteur with a seemingly endless supply of fascinating stories to tell. Sometimes he was charming and fun. Sometimes he was serious and withdrawn.
     But always, he was passionate and so intensely masculine, he made her feel delightfully aware of her own femininity. He was a skilled and generous lover. And, behind his tough-guy facade, there was a deep well of tenderness most people never saw.
     She loved nearly everything about him. At first glance, he
     appeared to be the perfect mate for her in every way. Unfortunately she'd discovered two important glitches in his makeup she knew she couldn't accept.
     He didn't love her. And, even if he did love her, his job would always come first on his list of priorities. She'd finally understood both of those things at the same time she'd realized she was pregnant. Rafe was such an honorable man, she'd known he would insist on marrying her if he knew he'd fathered a child.
     However, she'd already had one painful relationship based on obligation rather than love with her father. She had no desire ever to have another one. From childhood, she'd vowed that if she ever married, her husband would love her, and he would be a man who valued his wife and family above everything else in his life.
     Her baby would have a loving, caring father who enjoyed spending time with her and supported her in her activities, whether they were ballet recitals or soccer games.
     Caroline couldn't tolerate anything less than that. For herself, or for her child. Better to be completely on their own than suffer the wounds of neglect and abandonment every time something new and exciting at work claimed Daddy's attention.
     Sighing with bone-deep weariness, Caroline forced herself to stand, picked up the clip board and went back to work. She had no time for regrets or self-pity. Sooner or later Rafe would be back, demanding the truth about her baby's father again, and she would have to be ready for him.
     Her baby's future depended on it.
     Cursing under his breath, Rafe jammed his hat onto his head and stepped from the air-conditioned building into the blistering summer heat, then marched down the steps and around the corner to the parking lot. His irritation grew when he spotted a shiny, silver-gray Porsche parked two spaces down from his own dusty, puke-green, government-issue sedan. Great. A surprise visit from his bossy, not to mention nosy, brother was just what he needed to round off the afternoon
     Cord climbed out of the Porsche and stood a careful six inches from the pristine finish of his latest pride and joy while he waited for Rafe.
     "Don't you have anything better to do than drive around Grandview checking up on me?" Rafe asked.
     "Of course I do, little brother," Cord said.
     Cord's grin annoyed Rafe almost as much as his "little brother" dig. Though Cord was only eight minutes older, to hear him go on about it, a person might think he was eight years older and twenty years wiser. Most days Rafe would have ignored it.
     Today wasn't most days.
     Besides the shock of discovering Caroline's pregnancy, Rafe was operating on only three hours of sleep. He'd been called out in the dead of night to coordinate a special task force operation with the FBI and the Texas Rangers, and he just plain wasn't up to dealing with Cord right now.
     "Then what the hell are you doing here?" Rafe asked.
     Cord let out an indignant snort. "Is that any way to talk to your own flesh and blood?"
     "Yeah." Rafe planted his feet wide apart and propped his hands on his hips. "If you didn't think I could handle this, you should've--"
     "I never said you couldn't handle it."
     "Then my question stands. For God's sake, you just announced your engagement. You should be at home with Hannah, up to your eyeballs in wedding plans."
     "Give me a break, Rafe." Cord shoved his hands into the front pockets of his suit trousers and glanced over at the office building.
     Rafe took one look at Cord's unusually sober expression and set aside his own irritation for the moment. Their father, Caine Stockwell, was in the advanced stages of terminal cancer. Besides supervising Caine's care, Cord carried the burden of running the family conglomerate, Stockwell International. Rafe wouldn't have traded places with Cord for anything, and when push came to shove, Cord was the best friend he had.
     "What is it?" Rafe asked. "Is the old man worse?"
     "He's incoherent again, but physically, he's holding his own." Cord rubbed the back of his neck. "Dammit, I just want to know the truth."
     "We all do," Rafe said. At the moment, he and Cord were talking about two different truths, but Cord didn't need to know that.
     "So where are Dad's files?" Cord asked. "You got them, didn't you?"
     "Not yet," Rafe admitted.
     "Didn't you show Caroline my power of attorney?"
     "Not exactly."
     Frowning at him, Cord mimicked Rafe's stance. "What happened in there?"
     "We just got a little sidetracked is all," Rafe said with a shrug he hoped looked casual.
     "Uh-huh." A considering expression settled over Cord's face. "I suppose you two got to talking about old times."
     "Something like that," Rafe agreed.
     "Uh-huh. And how is the lovely Ms. Carlyle?"
     "Fine."
     Cord laughed, then shook his fool head and pointed a finger at Rafe. "So that's why you're so damn cranky today."
     "I'm not cranky."
     "Yeah, little brother, you are. I should've guessed seeing Caroline again would make you a little...skittish."
     Aw, hell. This was what he'd been dreading since he'd found Cord waiting for him. Ever since it had happened, Cord had been relentlessly curious about Rafe's breakup with Caroline. Rafe hadn't wanted to talk about it back then any more than he did now, but it was damn near impossible to hide much of anything from an identical twin. That was how it was between Cord and him, anyway. Well, the best defense was still a powerful offense.
     "That's the dumbest thing you've said lately." Rafe kicked at a pebble, scuffing the toe of his black cowboy boot. "We're just friends now."
     "She's one gorgeous lady," Cord observed. "And you haven't been out with anyone else since your broke up with her."
     "I don't have a nine-to-five job," Rafe grumbled. "And I've been busy as hell at work lately."
     Cord just smiled. "Too busy to find a date? In how long?"
     Rafe silently asked for patience. Obviously Cord's engagement to Hannah Miller had left him addle-brained, starry-eyed and too damn eager to butt his nose into other people's personal lives.
     "Forget about it," Rafe said. "Go home and take Hannah and the baby out somewhere for fun."
     "You and Caroline were good together."
     "If that were true, we'd still be together." Rafe yanked the brim of his hat lower on his forehead and folded his arms across his chest. "You go ahead and trot on down the aisle if you want. I'll even be there to cheer you on. But don't expect me to follow your lead this time, bro."
     "Aw, c'mon, Rafe. Life can be good with the right woman."
     "I know that." Rafe clasped Cord's shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm happy for you and Hannah, but forget about me, all right? I've seen too many law enforcement marriages fail. They just don't work."
     "Some of them do." Suddenly dead serious, Cord met and held Rafe's gaze. "I think you care more about Caroline than you want to admit. But don't be afraid of it--"
     Rafe pulled his hand from Cord's shoulder and stepped away from him. "I'm not afraid of anything. Things didn't work out, but Caroline and I are still friends. End of story."
     Scowling at him, Cord turned and opened the driver's side door of his car. "I'm not talking about friendship." He lowered himself into the seat and leaned out the window. "You had something special going with her. Think bout it. And get those files. Now." He backed his car out of the parking space, then roared off in a wave of heat and exhaust fumes.
     Rafe waved a hand in front of his face, straightened the Western-cut sports coat that had been specially tailored to hide his shoulder holster and headed for his own car, once again cursing under his breath. Cord was one hell of a sharp businessman, but when it came to Rafe's love life, Cord didn't have a clue what he was talking about.
     Yeah, Rafe and Caroline had been good together. Well, better than good. He'd never known another woman who was confident enough to speak her mind, smart enough to graduate with honors from Harvard Law School and passionate enough to wear him out in bed. Somehow, they'd just clicked. If any woman could have changed his mind about marriage, it would have been Caroline.
     But it wasn't meant to be.
     Until today, he'd been absolutely convinced that he had no business even thinking about marriage. Law enforcement wasn't simply a job or a career choice for him. It was a calling. He hunted down some of the worst criminals humanity produced and took them off the streets.
     As long as law enforcement was his passion, he would make deadly enemies. He couldn't promise that he wouldn't go out there and get himself killed or maimed. He knew he'd never be able to give a wife and kids the attention they needed, and he'd rather pass up having a family of his own than make some unfortunate woman and a bunch of kids miserable because of his neglect. Caroline had known the score. She'd made the decision to move on with her life, and he'd respected that.
     But, if he'd already fathered a child, all of his reasons for staying single didn't amount to anything more than a blast of hot air. No matter what Caroline said, her baby deserved to have two parents. Rafe intended to make sure the kid would have them. Dammit, his whole life seemed to be tied up in a quest for the truth. The truth about what happened to his mother and his Uncle Brandon. The truth about Caroline's baby. God only knew what other truth he would need to find next.
     He looked over at the office building and decided to go back inside. Getting his father's files from Caroline was straightforward legal business, which shouldn't be any problem. Getting at the complete truth regarding her baby's paternity was going to require a more thoughtful approach. Something with more finesse than his usual roll-over-'em-with-a-bulldozer mode would be good.
     He would use getting his dad's files as his excuse to see Caroline again. At the same time, he would find a way to mend his fences with her. One way or another, he would regain her trust, and this time he wasn't going to push her so hard. If he had fathered her baby, he'd do whatever it took to make things right, even if it meant giving up his bachelorhood.
     A Stockwell always took care of his own.