Nine-Month Protector

“Sarah?” Strong hands grabbed her by the elbows and took her weight. Her cheek hit soft flannel, and a harder warmth underneath. “C’mon.”

Then she was twisting, floating. Sitting on a solid bench with two hands at her waist to steady her, and a firm shoulder in front of her to brace herself against. The spinning in her stomach calmed to a manageable level, and she blinked Cooper’s face into focus. He knelt in front of her, his angular features softened with cautious concern. Sarah pulled her hand from his shoulder and traced the line of his jaw.

“You have a good heart. You’d make a wonderful father.” But the honest observation turned his concern into a scowl. Feeling an imagined frostbite in her fingertips, Sarah quickly retreated and pulled the bag of fruit and pretzels from her purse. “I’m sorry. I’m not doing this on purpose. I need to eat.”

“You should have said something. Here.” He took the bag from her fumbling grasp. His fingers worked more surely than hers to open it and pull out a bag of pretzels and an apple. “Which do you want?”

He opened the pretzels she reached for and zipped the apple back into the bag. The salty snack was tasteless on her tongue and dry going down her throat. But the effect on her stomach was almost instantaneous relief.

Coop waited for her to eat a palmful before speaking again. The bite of sarcasm had left his voice, but an unfamiliar hardness shaded his eyes and aged his expression. “Look, I knew you were upset about sleeping with me. But I thought it was because you preferred to have me in your life as a brother—or you were worried about it messing with Seth’s and my working relationship. I had no idea you regretted it because you were already sleeping with someone else.”

“Stop saying that. I wasn’t seeing anyone. I mean, you weren’t…” Sarah stopped chewing and swallowed. No, no, no, no, no. She and Teddy had done it once. Thankfully, she’d made him use a condom. It had been embarrassingly quick. Awful. A terrible mistake. But accidents happened. She and Coop had thrown caution to the wind. It had been beautiful. Natural. Redeeming. Perfect. She curled her arm around her stomach and looked deep into those blue eyes, willing him to understand. This had to be Coop’s baby. “We spent all morning in bed, making—”

“I can’t father a child.”

Sarah shook her head, desperate to make sense of Cooper’s hurtful words. Tears stung her eyes, but she blamed the hormones and swiped them away before they could fall. “It has to be you.”

“I didn’t use protection because we didn’t need to.” Coop pushed to his feet and sat beside her with a resigned sigh. He pulled off his cap and rubbed his handsome, shiny head. Not a style choice. A consequence. “You know I had cancer, right?”

She nodded. “Sure. Seth talked about it. He said you were in college at the time—before he knew you. But he said you were okay. I mean, look at you. You’re a strong, strapping…” Suddenly stricken with real compassion, Sarah reached out and curled her fingers around his forearm. “Oh, my God. You’re not sick again, are you?”

He shrugged off her touch as if it repulsed him. “No. My cancer’s history. I take care of myself. I go in for regular follow-ups. I’ve been cancer-free for five years now. With surgery and radiation, I beat the damn monster. But not without some collateral damage.”

Sarah tilted her gaze to the top of his head. “So you can’t grow hair.”

“And I can’t make babies.”

Coop was raw inside. He never talked about this. But Sarah’s news hurt so damn much. It was like the army officers at the front door. The no-nonsense doctor in the tiny exam room.

Sarah wasn’t his—never had been. Still, he felt betrayed.

In a perfect world, he’d be the only man in her life. But there was nothing perfect about his dad being killed in action, then finding out the same month he had a tiny tumor growing in his prostate gland.

He’d had to beat the cancer. Not for his sake, but for his mother’s. And for Katharine, James, Grace and Clint, Jr. His family needed him to step up and be the man of the house. He had to be the strength, the financing, the discipline, the love and support in his father’s place. Sure, there were government benefits. Every Bellamy worked, from part-time jobs to paper routes. His dad’s older brother, Walt, now a retired professor from the University of Missouri, had sent money and offered help however he could.

But he had to be the man. He had to be there for the day-to-day stuff. Sacrifices had to be made. And Coop, a young man who hadn’t even reached the prime of his life yet, had done it willingly.

The urologist had warned him there’d be a change in his sex life. Oh, the plumbing all worked now, worked just fine. But there was something like a ninety-nine-percent chance he could never make the miracle of life happen. All his little Coopers had been sacrificed so that he could live.

To take care of his family.

To become a cop.

To love and lose out big-time.

Sarah needed to hear the truth. He needed to hear the reason why he’d kept his distance from a woman who seemed so crazy-right for him that, even now, he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and kiss some color back into her cheeks. But he wouldn’t be that much of a fool. He needed to remind himself why he should have walked away that morning instead of giving in to what he thought they’d both wanted. “I’m sterile.”

“Sterile?” she echoed. If possible, her skin grew even more pale.

“You may be pregnant…” Maybe some bastard had broken her heart. Maybe the father didn’t mean any more to her than Coop did. But the sympathy she wanted, the acceptance she’d expected, wouldn’t come. “But that baby isn’t mine.”

Chapter Three

He brushed aside the first leaves to fall and splayed his fingers over the cold red marble that marked Danielle Ballard’s grave.

Washington Cemetery was a beautiful, tranquil place—except for that nosy groundskeeper who’d asked too many curious questions about his visit so late in the day. It didn’t matter that it was closing time and that that peon had been ready to shut and lock the gates. He’d come a long way to see Dani. To see the woman he loved.

No one would keep him from her.

He picked at the blood that was drying beneath his manicured nails and stood. He could get used to living in Kansas City. The tree-studded hills away from the heart of downtown reminded him of the Lake District back in England. The rustle of wind through the autumn leaves reminded him of his boyhood in Keswick. Of course, he’d become a Londoner by the necessity of his job description—and there were perks to that historic and sophisticated city, which he’d miss.

There was history here, too, albeit the Wild West-cowboy kind. The city had theater and music and art. And though Kansas City had nothing to rival any Manchester United powerhouse, there was even a decent football—or soccer, as they called it in the States—team here.

He could buy box seats at the games, become a patron of one of the museums. He could even put up a stake and reopen the damned casino if Mr. Wolfe thought it could still be a useful front. He would definitely reopen the drug pipeline that had shown such potential for growth had it been managed properly. Some of the players were still in place. Other slots could easily be filled. With his strong hand, the distribution network could be reestablished, deadlines and quotas enforced, and he’d be raking in money in a way that Teddy Wolfe never had.

He’d done the groundwork to create Wolfe International’s presence in the Midwest—on both the legitimate and more profitable business fronts. He’d done the jobs Teddy hadn’t had the stomach to deal with. And despite Teddy’s crash-and-burn over one woman too many and a clever deception by KCPD, the law had never touched him. He was smarter. Stronger. More loyal to Theodore Wolfe than his own son, Teddy, had ever been.

He deserved the opportunity to run the Wolfe empire.

“Shaw? Are you listening to me?”

He bristled at the impatient demand in his employer’s slickly accented voice. One day, Theodore Wolfe, Sr., would be down on his knees, begging him for favors.

“Don’t call me Shaw, sir.” The old governor might slip, without even realizing it, and give him away.

“Not to worry. This call can’t be traced. And I simply can’t get my head around your new name.”

“Then don’t use any name.”

But Theodore Wolfe, builder and boss of the Wolfe International empire, didn’t take criticism well. “I paid for your face and name. I’ll call you anything I damn well like.”

The man once known as Shaw McDonough bit his tongue. “Of course, Mr. Wolfe. I was merely thinking of the assignment you gave me. Avenging your son’s death?”

“His murder,” Wolfe corrected. Good. Let the old man be the one having the emotional reaction. He’d learned the hard way that rational thinking and careful planning for every contingency were the only ways to guarantee survival in this business. “Have you tracked down Seth Cartwright?”

He laughed. The old man didn’t even know he was already in Kansas City. “I haven’t failed you yet. Don’t worry, I’ve set things in motion to get Cartwright’s attention.”

“I want the entire family to pay. He needs to hurt the same way I do.”

It was because of Seth Cartwright, and others like him at KCPD, that he had been brought to this place. He pulled a pink, long-stemmed rose from the bouquet at his feet and kissed the bud. “We’ve all suffered a tremendous loss here, sir. Trust me, they’ll pay.”

“Are you certain you want to do this? I have other men I can call.”

“Oh, I want to do this.” A reporter named Reuben Page and his story about the Wolfe family had forced him into this position. Danielle had worked for the city, coordinating communications between the economic development committee and the gaming commission. She’d fed Page information on bribes Teddy Wolfe had paid council members. He’d had no qualms about silencing Page and his story. Teddy had even been on hand, talking tough like he was the one pulling the trigger. But interest from KCPD and men like Seth Cartwright had forced him to take his job one step further. His sworn loyalty to Theodore Wolfe had left him no choice but to silence the woman he loved. It was only right that he be repaid for his loss. “I’ll take down the Cartwrights for you and put an end to the task force’s investigation.”

What happened after that would remain his own little secret.

“Call if you need anything.” Theodore Wolfe was dismissing him. “I have men and money in place, ready to assist you.”