Page 70 of Piece Of Me

“I should make you aware of a few things.”

Okay, that fear was now a big lead ball. She felt nauseous.

“My full name is Malcom David Kingsley.”

“Shocking. I never would have guessed you to be the misleading type.” She kept her tone light, but inside she was fighting a war to keep her shit together.

He ignored her quip. “I’m next in line to be the Earl of Kingsbury, a seat in Ireland that my family has held for centuries.”

That was news. She kept her face still and said nothing.

“What that means is that I have the time and resources to make your life…” He paused and softened his eyes. “Difficult in certain areas that pertain to our son.”

She tried to swallow the knot in her throat. “He’s mine,” she whispered fiercely.

“Yes,” Malcom said softly. “But he’s also mine and I want to get to know him.”

Scarlett glanced to the side, her mind whirling in a million different directions. “I don’t understand,” she finally said, raising her head again.

“I love you, Scarlett. I always have and I think,” he paused dramatically. “I always will. Yes, I made a mistake all those months ago.”

“Year and a half.”

“What’s that?” He frowned.

“It’s been a year and a half, Malcom. I’ve moved on.”

“I see.” He watched her closely and she saw the question in his eyes before he asked it. “Who’s the man from the barbecue?”

“There were a lot of men there.”

“Don’t play games. It doesn’t suit you. The man who wasn’t your brother.”

“He’s not your concern.”

“Fair enough,” Malcom replied. “But Hank is.” At her surprised look he shrugged. “I know his full name, Hank Brecken Bridgestone. His weight at birth, seven pounds four ounces. I know that he was twenty-two inches long. I know?—”

“How do you know these things?” She leaned closer. “How did you find me? I never told you I was a Bridgestone. I used my mother’s maiden name when I traveled.”

“I told you. I have money and resources. I want to know my son,” Malcom said. “We will spend the next week together and once you calm down, you’ll see that it’s in your best interest to let me in.”

“I’m not going to spend one more minute with you.” She grabbed her purse, anger and confusion making her head spin.

“I’m not asking, luv.” Malcom got to his feet before she could and smiled down at her. “We well spend the next week together.”

“That’s fucking crazy.” If he was shocked at her language Malcom didn’t show it.

His voice changed, pumped up by an underlying band of steel. “If you do not agree to spend this one week together, which is not a lot to ask for, I will unleash such legal fury upon you, that you will not survive it. You can’t keep me from the boy.”

“You don’t care about him,” she lashed out. Hot tears poked the corners of her eyes, and she could barely keep it together.

Malcom stepped back. “I’m here until tomorrow night. I’ll wait to hear from you. Don’t take too long in your answer.”

He moved away and threaded his way through the tables, then disappeared from sight. For a few moments Scarlett sat there, stunned at a conversation she hadn’t seen coming. None of this made sense, but she was too wired and upset to unravel the puzzle.

Slowly, she got to her feet and took exactly two steps when the bartender hailed her.

“Miss?”

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