Cowboy Fever. Joanna Wayne
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had to answer any more questions, and before he started asking any. He was barefoot and shirtless, but fortunately wearing jeans.
“I see you two have met,” Viviana said.
“Yes, and he’s lucky I didn’t ram a knife through him. I sure didn’t expect to find a strange man in the kitchen.”
“Sorry I didn’t warn you,” Viviana said, “but his visit was unexpected. I ran into him in the E.R. and, well, he just wasn’t in any shape to go home alone. I thought he should stay here in case his pain became worse during the night.”
She did not want to explain the ordeal of last night to Claire. If she tried, Claire would ask a million questions and give at least an hour’s worth of advice.
Claire studied the bruises on Dakota’s chest and shoulder. “Were you in an accident?”
“You could say that. I got thrown from a bull.”
“Seriously?”
“Serious as a kick to the ribs.”
“Hmmph.”
Her skeptical tone no doubt summed up not only Claire Evers’s feelings on bull riding, but also her thoughts on his having spent the night.
Viviana pulled some mugs from the cabinet over the coffeemaker. “Thanks for filling in for me last night, Claire.”
“You know I don’t mind staying when you need me.”
“And I really appreciate that. I won’t need you anymore today and you probably have things you need to do.” It was the most tactful way she could think of to get rid of Claire.
“I don’t have anything planned. I can stay if you need me.”
“No. I can handle things.”
“In that case, I’ll just get my handbag and head out. I’ll be back on Wednesday evening at my regular time.”
“Are you the housekeeper?” Dakota asked.
“Lands, no. I’m the nanny. I’ve taken care of Briana since six weeks after she was born. Viviana says she doesn’t trust anyone but me with her baby.”
“Viviana’s baby?” Dakota leaned against the counter, so stunned the words were a husky whisper.
“Yes. The doctor’s daughter. Briana? Who did you think I was talking about?”
“Just checking.” He stood perfectly still, staring at Viviana without saying a word until Claire was out of hearing range. “You never mentioned having a baby,” he said accusingly.
“You didn’t ask.” She poured two mugs of coffee and handed one to him. “I guess you still take it black.”
“Forget the coffee. How old is the baby?”
“Seven months.”
“Seven months. Does that mean you were pregnant with another man’s child when we were together?”
This was not the way Viviana had planned this encounter. Only, that was the real problem. She’d never been able to visualize exactly what she’d say or how Dakota would react. And she was starting to resent his attitude.
“I don’t remember you asking or caring if I was in another relationship at the time. But I wasn’t pregnant when we met, Dakota. I was pregnant when you left.”
“You’re not saying …”
“Yes, I’m saying you have a precious, adorable daughter—Briana. You don’t have to take my word for it. You can swab her cheek and have a paternity test if that would make you feel better. But I wasn’t with another man for months before I met you and I haven’t been with one since.”
Briana began to wail. She was a terrific baby, but she had a horrific sense of timing.
Viviana left Dakota standing in the kitchen staring into space like a zombie while she climbed the steps to the nursery to get Briana from her crib. It was past time the little darling met her bruised and battered cowboy daddy.
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