Page 45 of Megan's Mate
“Tired of Oklahoma, were you? Wanted a change of scene?” He leaned closer, until she backed into the filing cabinet. Bribery, he knew, wouldn’t work with her. Not with the O’Riley money behind her. Intimidation was the next logical choice. “Don’t take me for a fool, Megan. It would be a terrible, costly mistake.”
When her back hit the filing cabinet, she realized she was cringing, and her shock melted away, her spine stiffening. She wasn’t a child now, she reminded herself, but a woman. Aware, responsible. “It’s none of your business why I moved here.”
“Oh, but it is.” His voice was silky, quiet, reasonable. “I prefer you in Oklahoma, Megan. Working at your nice, steady job, in the midst of your loving family. I really much prefer it.”
His eyes were so cold, she thought with dull wonder. Odd, she’d never seen that, didn’t remember that. “Your preferences mean nothing to me, Baxter.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out that you’d thrown your lot in with my ex-wife and her family?” he continued, in that same reasonable tone. “That I haven’t kept tabs on you over the years?”
With an effort, she steadied her breathing, but when she tried to shift away, he blocked her. She wasn’t afraid, yet, but the temper she’d worked so hard to erase from her character was beginning to bubble up toward the surface.
“I never gave a thought to what you’d find out. And no, I wasn’t aware you were keeping tabs. Why should you? Neither Kevin nor I ever meant anything to you.”
“You’ve waited a long time to make your move.” Baxter paused, struggling to control the fury that had clawed its way into his throat. He’d worked too hard, done too much, to see some old, forgotten mistake rear up and slap him down. “Clever of you, Megan, more clever than I gave you credit for.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Do you seriously want me to believe you know nothing about my campaign? I’m not going to tolerate this pathetic stab at revenge.”
Her voice was cooler now, despite the fact that she could feel her skin start to tremble with an intense mixture of emotions. “At the risk of repeating myself, I don’t know what you’re talking about. My life is of no concern to you, Baxter, and yours none of mine. You made that clear a long time ago, when you refused to acknowledge me or Kevin.”
“Is that the tack you’re going to take?” He’d wanted to be calm, but rage was working through him. Intimidation, he realized, simply wouldn’t be enough. “The young, innocent girl, seduced, betrayed, abandoned? Left behind, pregnant and brokenhearted? Please, spare me.”
“That’s not a tack; it’s truth.”
“You were young, Megan, but innocent?” His teeth flashed. “Now, that’s a different matter. You were willing enough, even eager.”
“I believed you!” She shouted it—a mistake, as her own voice tore her composure to pieces. “I believed you loved me, that you wanted to marry me. And you played on that. You never had any intention of making a future with me. You were already engaged. I was just an easy mark.”
“You certainly were easy.” He pushed her back against the cabinet, kept his hands hard on her shoulders. “And very, very tempting. Sweet, Megan. Very sweet.”
“Take your hands off me.”
“Not quite yet. You’re going to listen to me, carefully. I know why you’ve come here, linked yourself with the Calhouns. First there’ll be whispers, rumors, then a sad story to a sympathetic reporter. The old lady put pressure on me about Suzanna.” He thought of Colleen with loathing. “But I’ve made that work for me. In the interest of the children,” he murmured. “Letting Bradford adopt them, selflessly giving up my rights, so the children could be secure in a traditional family.”
“You never cared about them, either, did you?” Megan said in a husky voice. “Alex and Jenny never mattered to you, any more than Kevin.”
“The point is,” he continued, “the old woman has no reason to bother about you. So, Megan, you’d better mind your step and listen to me. Things aren’t working out for you here, so you’re going to move back to Oklahoma.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she began, then gasped when his fingers dug in.
“You’re going back to your quiet life, away from here. There will be no rumors, no tearful interviews with reporters. If you try to undermine me, to implicate me in any way, I’ll ruin you. When I’ve finished—and believe me, with the Dumont money I can hire plenty of willing men who’ll swear they’ve enjoyed you—when I’ve finished,” he repeated, “you’ll be nothing more than an opportunistic slut with a bastard son.”
Her vision hazed. It wasn’t the threat that frightened her, or even infuriated her so very much. It was the termbastardin connection with her little boy.
Before she fully realized her intent, her hand was swinging up and slapping hard across his face. “Don’t you ever speak about my son that way.”
When his hand cracked across her cheek, it wasn’t pain she felt, or even shock, but rage.
“Don’t push me, Megan,” he said, breathing hard. “Don’t push me, because you’ll be the one to take the fall. You, and the boy.”
As crazed as any mother protecting her cub, she lunged at him. The power of the attack rammed them both against the wall. She landed two solid blows before he threw her off.
“You still have that passionate nature, I see.” He dragged her against him, infuriated, aroused. “I remember how to channel it.”
She struck out again, a glancing blow, before he caught her arms and pinned them against her body. So she used her teeth. Even as Baxter cursed in pain, the door burst in.
Nathaniel plucked him off the floor as he might a flea off a dog. Through the haze of her own vision, Megan saw there was murder in his eye. Hot-blooded. Deadly.
