Accidental Father Read Free

was stare at her as if she were a mad woman.
    Then he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. You must have the wrong man. I do not have a child.”
    She frowned. Now he was making her mad. She hadn’t come here to listen to lies.
    â€œWhat kind of a man denies his son’s existence? Do you think if you pretend he isn’t there he’ll go away? That may have worked with my sister, but she’s gone now and so you have to deal with me. I’m not going to accept your shoddy excuses.”
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    Alex was used to dealing with difficult people who flung crazy accusations. It was the nature of his position at iWITNESS—hearing reports of human rights abuse, verifying them and then exposing the heinous acts to the world and using his considerable contacts to apply political pressure so that the countries where these injustices happened were forced to stop the inhumane action.
    What threw him was being the subject of the accusation. Especially when the allegation simply wasn’t true. He didn’t have a son. If he did, he certainly wouldn’t deny his child’s existence. It took him less than ten seconds to regroup.
    â€œMs. Waterford, please sit down.” He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. “Obviously, there’s been a misunderstanding. Perhaps we can talk and clear up the confusion?”
    She looked agitated. Even after removing her glasses, her blue eyes were a tempestuous sea that threatened to batter him with a storm of fury.
    When she remained standing, he repeated, “Sitdown. Please.” His words were softer this time. “You’re Marissa’s sister, aren’t you?”
    She leveled him with a dark, layered glare.
    â€œOf course I am. I’d have no reason to be here otherwise.”
    He nodded.
    Finally, she sat, smoothing the fabric of black slacks that peeked out from beneath the folds of her tan coat. Perching on the edge of the seat as if she didn’t plan to stay long, she brushed her long, dark hair off her shoulder.
    That’s when he noticed her fingers were shaking.
    She was obviously distraught—overwrought, even. Why else would she think he had a son? Why would she take it so personally?
    With all the experience he had helping people who’d been through tragedy and lived through hell on earth, he should’ve known the perfect thing to say to Julianne to comfort her. But for a moment, words failed him. Until all he could say was, “Will you start from the beginning?”
    She seemed to size him up for an eternity. “You and Marissa obviously had your differences.”
    Differences? “No. Not really. We were good friends. I was deeply saddened by her death.”
    Julianne silenced him with a raised hand.
    â€œGood friends? That’s all she was to you? A good friend? Is that how you rationalized leaving her and Liam?”
    Alex heard the rising pitch of her voice. The woman looked ready to launch out of her chair at him. And for what? What on earth did he have to do with someone else’s child?
    â€œWho is Liam? Look, you’ve been talking in riddles since you arrived. I can’t help you unless you help me understand. Are you in some sort of trouble? If you are, I will help you in any way I’m able. Because your sister was a very dear friend.”
    Friends. That’s all they’d been. Yet, that old familiar pang coursed through him as memories of that night, that moment of weakness, that horrendous breach of good sense when he’d failed Marissa and jeopardized their friendship by crossing the line.
    The way Julianne was looking at him, it was almost as if she knew.
    Mon Dieu, would Marissa have told her sister?
    Alex bit back an oath and hid his rising panic from Julianne by turning toward his desk, under the guise of sitting down.
    When he was facing her again, he asked, “Is this Liam you speak of Marissa’s son?”
    â€œYour son.” She looked