Free Secret Baby Santos by Bárbara McCauley

confused gaze. Her lids were heavy with desire, her lips swollen and still-moist from his kisses. “I can’t do this.”
    There was fear in her eyes, he realized. A look damn close to terror. “Why are you so afraid of me?”
    She folded her arms, hugged them tightly to her. “It’s not you I’m afraid of, Nick.” She drew in a deep breath, then said quietly, “It’s me.”
    That was one answer he certainly hadn’t expected. Frowning, he shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
    â€œI’m going back to New York in a few weeks. I’m sorry if I led you on, but I’m not interested in this kind of—” she hesitated, obviously searching for the right words “—relationship.”
    â€œWhat the hell is that supposed to mean?” The woman had completely devastated him and now she stood here and soft-pedaled what had happened. He wanted to throttle her almost as much as he wanted to kiss her again.
    â€œIt means I’m not interested in a one-night stand. It’s not my style, Nick.”
    He narrowed his eyes. “And you think it’s mine?”
    â€œYes.”
    He let the sting of her answer pass, then pressed his
lips tightly together. “Don’t believe everything you read, Maggie.”
    Between the need still drumming through his body and his sudden irritation, distance between them seemed like a good idea. He stepped off the motorcycle and moved to his workbench to turn off a pounding Rolling Stones song.
    Silence echoed in the high ceilings and dark corners.
    â€œTell your mother I said thanks for the cookies.” He looked at Maggie, saw the desire that still burned in her eyes, and he had to turn away. He picked up a screwdriver and focused his attention on the carburetor he’d been rebuilding. “I should have the parts for Drew’s bike day after tomorrow. I’ll call you.”
    He stiffened when he heard her move toward him. If she got too close, if she touched him, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Still, he wasn’t certain if he was relieved or disappointed when she moved back again.
    â€œJust let me know how much I owe you,” she said quietly.
    â€œI intend to. Good night, Maggie.”
    He didn’t look back, not when he heard the door close behind her, not even when he heard her car start up and drive away.
    Rather than damage the carburetor, he kicked his toolbox, then threw the screwdriyer. It smashed against the metal wall and clattered down behind a stack of tires three deep. Unless he moved thirty tires he wouldn’t be using that screwdriver for a while.
    Dammit, anyway, the woman infuriated him.
    He’d be lying to say his irritation wasn’t partly because she wouldn’t go to bed with him. Physically she frustrated the hell out of him.
    But what really got to him was her presumption of
his morals, or rather, his lack of them. He’d been accused and judged without facts before, dozens of times, and he’d never much given a damn. Even that annoying paternity suit a few years back and what people had thought of him hadn’t bothered him. The woman had been out for a little money and publicity for her acting career. He’d still had to prove it to the courts. And while it might be easy to prove you had slept with someone, it sure as hell wasn’t an easy thing to prove you hadn’t.
    His entire life, the only people whose opinion of him had ever really mattered were Lucas Blackhawk and Ian Shawnessy. He felt nothing for the mother who’d run out on him, nothing for the drunken stepfather she’d left him with. They were both gone now, his mother he had no idea where, nor did he care, and his stepfather had drunk himself into an early grave.
    Lucas and Ian were his only family. They’d always been there for him, and he knew they always would. He trusted them with his life. What anyone else had ever thought of him simply