Free A Valentine from Harlequin by Christine Nancy u Bell Catherine u Warren Maggie u Spencer Michele u Shayne Hauf Page A

your baby?”
    Charlotte spun around to face him. “Yes, I do. Do you?”
    Their eyes locked over the hood of the car. He said, “It’s not…it’s been…”
    “Eight months, Johnny. It’s been eight months to the day. And yes, it is yours.”
    Tires squealed in the distance. “Charlotte for the love of God, get into the car.”
    Battling tears yet again, she got into the car. So did he, dropping the handgun on the seat again, where it would be within easy reach. He drove quietly and carefully out the opposite side of the parking lot, and onto an all but deserted street. Charlotte watched behind them, but she didn’t think they were being followed. Johnny drove to the highway, taking side roads and a convoluted route to get there. Once they blended in with the other traffic, though, he seemed to relax a little.
    He glanced at her, looking her over. “What are you doing here, anyway?” he asked at length.
    She shrugged. “I had to get away. I just couldn’t stay in Chicago anymore. So many bad things happened there. First you being killed the way you were. And then Daddy—he was arrested on some insane charge that he was involved with horrible crimes. Laundering money for drug lords, the D.A. said.” She squeezed her eyes shut tight. “It was all a mistake. I know it would have been all right if he just could have held on. But his heart gave out before he even made bail.” She shook her head slowly. “I had no one else. With Daddy gone, and the rumors that lived on after him, I just saw no sense in my staying there.”
    Lowering her head very slowly, she sighed. “If I knew the son of a bitch who was responsible for putting my father through all that, I honestly don’t know if I could keep myself from doing them harm. Physical harm.” Then finally, she looked up. “What about you, Johnny? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be dead.”
    He pursed his lips, glanced her way. “I’m the son of a bitch who put your father through all that,” he said. “My name is Michael Drummond. I work undercover for the US Government’s Organized Crime Drug Enforcement Task Force. And your father’s arrest was the result of a year-long investigation in which I played the role of Jonathon Stone, got close to him, and gathered evidence against him.”
    Charlotte felt as if he’d just stuck a hot blade straight into her chest. “And one of the ways you got close to him…was by getting close to me?”
    He lowered his head.
    “You used me? It was all just an act? Everything you said to me, everything we said to each other? It was just a game to you?” She stared at him in disbelief. “My God, you made me fall in love with you. You asked me to marry you—all just so you could destroy my father?”
    He couldn’t seem to hold her eyes. “I didn’t mean for things between us to get…as far as they did. Your father was pushing for the marriage, and I ran out of reasons to put him off. He was beginning to suspect—”
    “So you decided it was necessary to rip my heart out and crush it in your hands, all to keep your cover intact. Hell, Johnny, that makes perfect sense.”
    “Michael. My name is Michael. And I’m sorry.”
    “Not as sorry as you’re going to be,” she whispered as she closed her hand around the gun, lifted it between them, and pointed it at him. It was hard to see through all the tears, but she didn’t suppose that would matter at such close range, anyway.

Chapter Three
    “Stop the car, Michael,” she said, and to his ears it sounded as if his name, his real name, tasted bad on her lips.
    “I don’t blame you for being angry,” he began.
    “Angry? Angry?” She laughed, a short, harsh sound that made his belly tighten with guilt. He could hear the pain in her laugh. “I’m not angry, Michael. What I’m feeling right now is ice-cold hatred. I hate you. I hate you.”
    “I don’t blame you for that, either. It’s good that you hate me. Better for you that way. But you’re