Free Rogue Stallion by Diana Palmer

Jessica went right to his head. He hadn’t realized it was going to be so fulfilling to kiss her. And it seemed to be addictive, because it was all he could think about.
    “I won’t let you torment me,” she said, walking ahead of him to the door. “And before we go any farther, you’d better remember that Whitehorn isn’t that big. Everybody knows everybody else’s business. If I go in there with you, people are going to talk about us.”
    He had one hand in his pocket, the other on the door handle. He searched her eyes. “I know,” he said quietly. He opened the door deliberately.
    It was a quiet, companionable lunch. There were a few interested looks, including a sad one from a young waitress who had a hopeless crush on McCallum. But people were discreet enough not to stare at them.
    “After all, we could be talking over a case,” Jessica said.
    He frowned at her. “Does it really matter?” he asked. “You’re very sensitive to gossip. Why?”
    She shrugged, averting her eyes. “Nobody likes being talked about.”
    “I don’t know that I ever have been since I’ve come back,” he said idly. He sipped his coffee. “And with your spotless reputation, it’s hardly likely to think that you have,” he added with a chuckle.
    She picked up her coffee cup, steadying it with her other hand. “Thank you for helping me with Amy and Ben.”
    “Did I have a choice? I wonder if there isn’t a law against deputy sheriffs being kidnapped by overconscientious social workers. And while we’re on the subject of laws, that one about underage marriages is one I’ll have to look up or ask Hensley about. I’ve never had cause to use it before.”
    “You may again. We’ve had several cases like Amy and Ben over the years.”
    “What if she is pregnant?” he asked.
    “Then she’ll have choices and people to help her make them.”
    He glared at her.
    “I know that look,” she said softly. “I even understand it. But you have to consider that sometimes what’s best for a young girl isn’t necessarily what you feel is right.”
    “What if I lost my head one dark night and got you pregnant, Jessica?” He leaned back, his eyes narrowed. “What would you do in Amy’s place?”
    The color that rushed into her face was a revelation. She spilled a bit of coffee onto the table.
    “Well, well,” he murmured softly.
    She put the cup down and mopped up the coffee with napkins. “You love shocking me, don’t you?”
    “Never mind the shock. Answer me. What would you do?”
    She bit her lower lip. “The correct thing…”
    He caught her hand and held it tight in his. “Not the correct thing, or the sensible thing, or even the decent thing. What would you do?” he asked evenly.
    “Oh, I’d keep it,” she said, angry at being pushed into answering a question that would not, could not, ever arise. It hurt her to remember how barren she was. “I’m just brimming over with motherly instincts, old-fashioned morality and an overworked sense of duty. But what I’m trying to make you see is that regardless of my opinion, I have no right to force my personal sense of right and wrong on the rest of the world!”
    He forgot the social issue in the heat of the moment, as he allowed himself to wonder how itwould feel to create a child with Jessica. It made him feel…odd.
    Jessica saw the speculation in his eyes and all her old inadequacies came rushing back. “McCallum,” she began, wondering whether or not to tell him about her condition.
    His fingers linked with hers, his thumb smoothing over them. “You’re twenty-five, aren’t you? I’m ten years older.”
    “Yes, I know. McCallum…”
    His eyes lifted to catch hers. “My first name is Sterling,” he said.
    “That’s an unusual name. Was it in your family?”
    He shrugged. “My mother never said.” Memories of his mother filled his mind. He withdrew, mentally and physically. He pulled his hand slowly away from Jessica’s. “Maybe it was the name