She swallowed nervously and stared at him with dread weighing down on her like two tons of bricks.
His eyes narrowed, and he brushed his thumb over her cheek. She should have found the gesture comforting, but it was more prompting than affectionate.
She licked her lips, then opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She stared at him in horror as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Now that she was finally in front of him, was so close she could feel his warmth wrapping around her, she couldn’t say anything at all.
His expression softened and his fingers eased around her jaw. “Don’t be afraid of me, Sophie. I won’t ever hurt you. I’m in uncharted territory here, so bear with me, okay? I need to know if you’re carrying my child.”
As he spoke, his other hand dropped to her belly, and he cupped the rounded curve. The baby fluttered and bumped in response, and she caught her breath at the wonder of feeling her move after being still for so long.
“She’s yours,” Sophie said around a chest so tight she could barely breathe.
His pupils flared and his nostrils quivered. For a moment he stared at her in silence, as if digesting the declaration.
“She?” he finally said.
Sophie flushed. “I call it ‘her.’ I don’t know for sure. Just a feeling. I don’t like saying ‘it.’ ”
“But you can tell at this stage, right? I mean, you’ve had a sonogram. Couldn’t they tell you the sex?”
She looked down. “I haven’t had a sonogram.”
He nudged her chin up again, and he frowned at her. “But you’ve been to the doctor.”
She shook her head. “Too dangerous.”
His mouth screwed up into a pinched bow. He continued staring at her with those intense blue eyes.
“But she’s mine.”
“Yes. She’s yours. No doubt about it.”
“I see.”
He seemed calm enough, but she could sense the turmoil beneath the deceptively calm expression.
“And you’re just now getting around to telling me.”
She almost laughed. She would have if she hadn’t been so sure it would end up in a fit of hysteria. Tell him. As if it was the easiest thing in the world. Bitterness, sharp and quick, welled in her chest.
“Tell you?” She did laugh then. She simply couldn’t hold it back. As predicted, it ended in a high, shrill sound that was anything but pleasant. “Just how was I supposed to tell you, Sam? You walked out of that hotel room after you told me I wouldn’t see you again.”
His eyes narrowed again, and they glittered dangerously.
“And yet you had no problem finding me. You obviously knew where I was all along, which is more than I can say I knew about you. How is that, Sophie? Just who the hell are you and what are you playing at?”
How quickly his questions turned into accusations.
She rolled, bracing herself for when her injured arm took the brunt of her weight. She struggled to get her feet over the edge of the bed and onto the floor. She stood, and the flannel shirt fell to her knees. Just as well since she was butt naked underneath.
She looked around for clothing, even as her mind rolled with just how to relate everything she needed to say.
“I’ll make this quick and easy,” she said in a bitter voice. “Someone wants me dead, or they will as soon as they get what they want from me. They probably want you dead too, but you’ve been kept alive because you’re the bait. I stayed away for that reason. But they got too close, and I couldn’t take a chance on staying ahead of them any longer. I’m certainly not as fast or as bright as I used to be.”
She gestured down at her belly in disgust. “Not only does pregnancy make me slower, but I swear it sucks all the brain cells.”
“Sophie, you need to calm down,” Sam said as he put his hands out in a placating manner. “Come back and sit down. You shouldn’t be up.”
“Where are my clothes?” she demanded as she looked around. “I need my clothes.” She knew she sounded desperate and irrational. But damn it, she needed something to wear, and she needed to get the hell out of here. Sam said she’d been here several hours. Tomas and company would know exactly where to look for her.
Her gaze lighted on a pair of sweatpants in the corner, and she bent down to pick them up. When she stood back up, pain splintered down her arm, and she bobbled like a drunken party girl wearing stilettos. Sam was there to catch her, but she yanked herself away and edged toward the bed so she could pull the pants on.
They were way too big, but she didn’t care. They were warm and dry. As soon as she got them on, she stood again and reached for Sam, tugging on his arm. He looked at her in disbelief, like he’d look at a crazy woman.
“Come on, Sam. We have to go. We can’t stay here. They’ll come. They’ll kill you. And your brothers. I didn’t know you had brothers. Sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought it was just you and your men.”
Her pulse thudded painfully at her temples, and her chin wobbled as she chattered out the rest. She didn’t make any sense whatsoever, and Sam just stood there staring at her like she’d lost her mind.
She reached again and this time took his hand between hers. She pulled until his palm rested on her belly.
“They were going to kill her, Sam. He had a knife. He said he’d slice me open and let her spill out. I can’t let that happen. I need your help. Please. You have to help me.”
Sam stared at her in horror, then his gaze dropped to where his hand was splayed across her abdomen. He looked so appalled that she stopped for a moment and wrapped her arms around her stomach, trapping his hand there.