"Maybe you can do that, sweetheart, but I'll never forget how you screamed my name so many times."

"Perhaps we should stop working together, as well," I continued, as if I hadn't heard him. I needed the money, yes, but I needed my sanity more. "I can put together a list of planners suited to y-"

He cut me off. "You agreed to help me with this, Naomi. Quit and I'll sue you for breach of contract."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Why don't you go ahead and try it. We never signed a contract."

"You don't really want to fight me on this. I can be a bastard when I have to be."

"Like that's news," I muttered. If I were honest, though, I was immensely relieved he hadn't taken me up on my offer. I don't know why I'd even suggested it. The thought of never seeing him again rocked me to the core. In a horrible, horrible way.

"By the way," he drew out. "I want to know if you're pregnant."

I shook my head, trying to block out the P word and ensuing thoughts of the M and B words. "I'm not."

"You can't be sure."

"I'm just not, I tell you." But what if I was? A little thrill worked its way through me, the same kind of thrill I'd ignored last night, giving precedence to my panic and fear. I might not be ready for the M word, but the thought of the B word, a baby-there, I'd thought it-didn't make me panic nearly as much for some reason.

The thought of having Royce's baby suddenly made me feel all warm and tingly. God knows when I'd know for sure. My periods had always been irregular.

"Are you psychic?" he asked.

"I've been known to correctly guess the future," I lied.

He rolled his eyes. "Your voice got higher. You really need to work on your bluffing skills."

I stomped my foot and slitted my gaze at him. "Damn it-"

"You will let me know if-"

"-I told you-"

"-you're pregnant because I-"

"-I'm not-"

"-have a right to know."

"-pregnant."

He stared me down, and long minutes passed in silence.

"Fine," I finally said. "Yes. I'll tell you." Maybe.

Before I could protest, he rose and placed a hard kiss on my forehead. My lips puckered of their own accord, hoping he'd kiss them, too. "You still work for me, Naomi. I won't let you quit."

"Fine," I said again. "I won't quit."

"I'm not leaving until I have your word."

"I said okay, and I meant it. On both counts." Making a shooing motion with my hands, I said, "Now leave. I need to unpack."

"Tell me truthfully, first. Did you enjoy being with me?"

"I guess," I grudgingly admitted.

"And you'd like to be with me again?"

Damn him. "Yes, but that doesn't mean-"

"Yes," he said smugly. "It does." He strode out the door with a smile on his face, all hints of his dark mood gone.

What the hell kind of lame-ass Tigress was I? I couldn't lie worth a damn, and I hadn't told Royce to get the hell out of my life.

I decided to order a pizza and call it a day.

I gorged myself on pizza and worked on Mrs. Powell's party invitations. Which, I had to admit, were pretty amazing. I'd decided to go with something new, something different. The top portion featured a woman's bright emerald eyes, a paste-on jewel between them, and covering what would have been her nose and mouth but was actually the wording was a thin, wispy pink veil.

Sometimes I amazed myself.

When that was done, I had a long chat with my inner Tigress about her too frequent disappearing acts, then threw pepperonis at the old newspaper article about Royce that I'd saved, and decided I might-would probably-was destined to-sleep with Royce again. He was right, damn him. We weren't done.

I had needs. He had needs. I'd had a taste of him, and like an addict, I wanted more. Already. He was that potent. I'd just have to fight harder to keep my emotions under control-and his emotions, as well.

I sighed.

It was time to call my mom. I'd keep it casual. See how things were going. What I really wanted to know was what Jonathan was up to. I picked up the phone and dialed.

She answered on the second ring. "Hello."

I jumped right into the conversation as if she'd said, What can I help you with, Naomi? "Tell me what Jonathan's been up to these last two days." How was that for casual?

"Darling," she said with a nervous laugh, "now isn't a good time."

"Is he in the room?"

"Well, yes."

"Move to another room or talk in code."

Pause. Several moments passed in silence. Then I heard, "Where are you going, Gloria?"

More nervous laughter. "I have to change my tampon, dear."

Dead silence. "Uh, take your time," Jonathan said.

"All right," she whispered a few seconds later. "I'm in the bathroom."

"Please tell me you weren't telling the truth. That you're only in there to talk to me privately."

"What do you think? I've already gone through menopause, silly. I doubt your stepdad will recall that fact, stupid man." With barely a breath, she continued more sternly, "Have you been screening your calls, young lady, because I've called and I've called and you haven't answered."

"Mom, concentrate. Tell me about Dr. Johnnie."

She tsk-tsked with her tongue. "Last night he came in three hours late." Her voice shook with the force of her frustration and disenchantment, and I actually thought I heard tears in the undercurrents. "He told me a client needed extra therapy. Well, obviously that client likes to rub gardenia-scented massage oil on his-"

"Information overload. Stop right there. Did you say anything to him?"

"No. I didn't know what to say. I came close to punching him in the nose, though."

"The action of a true Tigress," I said. "Why didn't you?"

"I keep thinking that I'm blowing this all out of proportion. What if he really was working late with a patient? He's not like your father. He's really not."

Had I sounded like this at one time? Had I sounded so needy and sad and hopeful? So wrong? "Don't lie to yourself." I purposely made my tone hard and unflinching. "You're a better woman than that."

"Did…did you find anything when you were here?"

I hadn't wanted to tell her anything until I had solid proof, but she needed to know something was going on, that her first instincts were correct. "I found pictures in his desk. Pictures of a woman and child."

"Oh, is that all?" My mom exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

"Is that all? Uh, hello. Can you say secret lover and illegitimate child? What do you mean, is that all?"

"I wanted to tell you about this," she hedged, "but Jonathan didn't think it would be a good idea."

My confusion soared. I gazed up at the ceiling, hoping for a little divine intervention. "Tell me what?"

"A few months ago, Jonathan learned he has a daughter and that daughter has a daughter of her own. She's been searching for him, isn't that neat? He didn't want you to think you were being replaced in his life, so we didn't mention it."

Okay, I totally hadn't expected to hear that. "That's… wonderful," I said. "I'm happy for him." And I was. Still, a hint of jealousy swept through me. Jonathan was my stepdad, but he was the only father I'd ever really accepted and I didn't like the thought of sharing him with another woman, no matter how much I hated him at the moment.

What was with my emotions lately? They were unpredictable. They were erratic. They were so damn stupid. I rubbed my temples in a vain effort to ward off the oncoming ache. "What's her name?"

"Rachel."

I cursed the name in my mind. So he had a daughter named Rachel. Fine. That explained the photos, but not the after-hour phone calls to his secretary. Not the perfume on his clothes. Not Nora's trips to Body Electric.

"I still think he's cheating on you, Mom."