His Secret Son by Brenda Jackson

Author:Brenda Jackson [Jackson, Brenda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-11-12T23:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Coop could tell from the look in Bristol’s eyes that she’d forgotten about that complication. That was unfortunate for her, since he clearly remembered. A woman claiming to be your wife was something that pretty much got stuck in your mind.

“I told you why I did it,” she said in a defensive tone.

He leaned forward. “Yes, you did. But that doesn’t mean we don’t need to talk about it. Spinning that tale might have been okay when you assumed I was dead, but as you can see, Bristol, I’m very much alive.”

When she didn’t say anything, he asked, “What do you think we should do?”

She shrugged. “Why do we have to do anything? It’s not as if anyone knows the truth but my best friend, Dionne, and her husband, Mark, who was working for the judge at the time.”

“It’s a lie, Bristol. And one thing about a lie, it can come back to haunt you when you least expect it.”

She stood and began pacing. He watched her, trying to keep his mind on the issue at hand, but found it difficult to do so. Especially when her body was in motion. He should be noticing the sound of the wooden floor creaking beneath her feet or the way her hair brushed against her shoulders as she moved. However, he wasn’t attuned to either of those things. Instead his total concentration was on her body. A body he remembered so well.

Coop couldn’t watch her move those jeans-clad thighs without recalling a time he’d been between them. Recollecting a time when he’d tasted her. Touched her all over. He was so damn aware of every damn inch of her.

She suddenly stopped pacing and looked over at him. Why? Had she detected him staring? Should he sit there and pretend he hadn’t been? He doubted he could, even if he wanted to. That would be trying to do the impossible where she was concerned.

“What do you suggest?” she then asked him.

Right now he thought about suggesting they go upstairs to her bedroom and get it on. Rekindle those days in Paris, if for no other reason than to prove he hadn’t imagined it, that it had been as good as he’d remembered.

“There are only two options, Bristol. Either we pretend to get a divorce to end the fake marriage or we make the marriage real.”

She came and sat back down. “There’s absolutely no reason to make the marriage real, so getting a pretend divorce sounds good to me. All that involves is us saying we’re getting a divorce. No paperwork needed.” A huge smile touched her lips. “Great! That was an easy solution.”

“Not quite.”

She lifted a brow. “And why not?”

The muscles in his jaw tightened. “Because in the end you’ll emerge smelling like a rose, but I’ll be the scumbag. A man who deserted his wife and child for nearly two years, and then who turns around and divorces her.”

His harsh description had her lifting a brow, which meant she knew he didn’t appreciate the position she was placing him in.

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