Burning Wild by Christine Feehan Read Free Book Online Page B

are you today, Emma?” He always sounded intimate, talking to her as if they were best friends—more than friends. Closer. He used the pads of his fingertips to stroke back her hair. “Are you feeling any better?”
    Each time he touched her, no matter how light, she felt as if electricity arced between them, zapping her alive again, so that the fears and the sorrow were closer than ever. And he held her there, gently but firmly, forcing her to look at her empty life while unimaginable grief poured into her, holding her prisoner.
    She didn’t answer him. She never did, just looked up at him mutely, begging him to let her drift back into her safe little cocoon.
    Jake dragged a chair to the side of the bed, spun it around and straddled it. “I named the baby this morning. I didn’t ever think much about what to call him, but I wanted to give him a good name, something that he’d be happy with even as an adult. I found a baby book on names in the waiting room.”
    She couldn’t look away from his face. His tone was soft and low and very intense, but there was something that was a little off. She couldn’t tell what it was. His eyes never left her face. He reminded her of a leopard with his golden-green eyes and his unblinking, piercing stare, so focused on her there was nowhere to hide.
    He leaned forward. “He’s so little, Emma. I swear I could fit him in the palm of my hand. It scares me to think of taking him home when I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby. Does it scare you? You’re going to have a baby. Did they tell you that? That the baby is still alive with only you to protect it?”
    Her breath caught in her throat and her hands moved to cover her stomach. Was it true? She could feel her heart pound, hear it thundering in her ears. She’d willed herself to die, she’d wanted to die, and she would have taken her baby—Andy’s baby—with her. She closed her eyes briefly, afraid she’d heard wrong.
    Jake sighed softly and ran his fingers through his hair as if in agitation. “That’s what scares me. There’s only me to parent, to give the baby a good home, and I’m so far from the real deal.” That admission slipped out and his voice rang with truth.
    She swallowed—hard. Her throat convulsed. It took effort to part her dried lips and she had to reach for her voice. When it came it was thin and shaky and nearly unrecognizable. “Are you certain? About my baby? Are you certain I didn’t lose it?”
    He leaned closer to her. Jake Bannaconni. She’d heard his name spoken in hushed, awed whispers, but she still couldn’t figure out why she knew him. What was there that was so familiar, and why did she feel as if his will held hers?
    “Your baby is fine, Emma. The doctor said even with the blood loss, the baby appears to be healthy.” Jake covered her hand with his. “There are no signs that the pregnancy will terminate. You’re going to be a mother.”
    Tears burned behind her eyes again. Her baby. Her precious baby was safe. She wasn’t entirely alone and there was a small piece of Andy growing inside of her. “Thank you for telling me about the baby. I was afraid to ask and no one thought to tell me. They only told me about my head, my leg, a million other injuries, and . . .” She trailed off and stared up at the ceiling, blinking, tears welling in her eyes.
    “Andrew,” he supplied gently. “I’m sorry, Emma. We both have to live with what happened. And we both have babies to raise by ourselves.” He flashed a small smile. “I have the feeling you’ll be much better at the parenting part of it than I will.”
    “You’ll be a good father,” she reassured him absently. “Don’t worry so much.” How in the world was she going to take care of a baby?
    Jake picked up Emma’s hand from where it lay quietly under his, his thumb moving along the back of it. His touch was achingly familiar. “Have they said when you can get out of here?”
    Emma shook her head.