She almost stopped breathing. “You went to see Nana?”

“She didn’t tell you? We had a nice visit.” He dipped his head. “I’m not going away until we talk about this. So we can do it on the street or in private. Your call.”

She stepped back.

“I appreciate your giving me some of your time,” he said softly, following her in and shutting the door.

She faced him, her jaw firm, her eyes cold. “Say what you want to say, then get out. Go back to your wife.”

He took a small breath, intent on avoiding the fight she wanted. “My wife is a technicality,” he said carefully. “I’ll be divorced in two weeks.”

“Well, then go back to her for two weeks. Have you had your baby yet?”

He looked startled. “Baby?”

“Yes, the one you didn’t tell me about, the one you just confirmed with that revealing little twitch,” she said snidely. “You’re not always completely expressionless after all.” She’d always suspected it would be the only reason someone could force Dominic into a shotgun marriage.

“It’s not my child.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“I’m not saying that about you.”

“Maybe you should. We didn’t spend that much time together. What—a grand total of three weeks? Although that’s probably a record for you. One-night stands. That’s more your style, isn’t it?”

Jesus, he didn’t like scenes. He’d done a lot of keeping his mouth shut and waiting in his life. And this wasn’t an argument he wanted to have. “I don’t have a style, Katherine,” he said quietly. “What I’d like to talk to you about is our child. As a matter of fact, it pleases me that you’re having our baby.”

She raised her hand to shut him up. “Fuck you, Dominic. You can stop that bullshit right now. I’m not interested in anything you have to say. I’m not interested in whether you’re pleased or not.” Her voice was taut with indignation. “You walked out on me twice. That’s twice too many,” she snapped, the fury in her eyes a hostile glow. “So this is my baby, not yours. Mine. Do you understand? You have nothing to do with it.” Her voice was rising. “So I really don’t want to hear a goddamn word from you! Now or ever!” She was screaming now. “Get your ass out of here!”

Feeling a wave of relief that she wanted the baby, he said, very softly, “Calm down for a minute. Let’s—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, you son of a bitch!” she shrieked. “I’m not calming down! I may never calm down! If you think you can walk back in like nothing happened and pick up where you left off, you’re crazy!” Her fists were clenched at her sides, her face was flushed. “Now get the fuck out!”

For a fleeting second Dominic considered picking her up, taking her to bed, and screwing her until neither of them could move. That usually worked with her. But she was really pissing him off; it probably wouldn’t be wise. She wasn’t the only one with a quick temper. Dragging in a breath of restraint, he forced himself to speak in a conciliatory tone. “Could we please talk about this like adults, Katherine? This baby involves me even if you don’t want it to. I’m the father. I can prove it with a paternity test if necessary. Although I’d prefer coming to some reasonable agreement.”

“About what, Dominic? About you fucking whomever you want—what the hell—marrying anyone you want, and I get to sit at home having your baby? Tell you what,” she snarled. “How about you knock up someone else and go talk to them. I’m not in the talking mood. So fuck off or I’ll call the bloody police!”

He leaned in close, his gaze blue flame, his jaw clenched so tight he could feel it in his shoulders. “This discussion isn’t over,” he said in a low, grating rasp. “Not on your fucking life. You’ll be hearing from me.” Then he spun around, pulled the door open, and stormed out.

He didn’t even hear the door slam behind him as he strode down the steps, angrier than he could ever remember being.

Even angrier than he’d been in high school when he’d beat the shit out of a whole lot of bruisers and bullies.

Although Dominic and Kate could have contested peak anger levels.

Kate was so close to blowing a fuse, she actually flopped into a sprawl on the sofa, started some deep breathing, and turned on the TV in an effort to distract herself. Mother. Fucker. Did he have a gigantic set of balls or what? Just knock on the door, ask to come in, and proceed to take over as father to her child like he had any fucking right when he was married to someone else. Jesus!

She flicked to the Weather Channel that was always capable of zoning her out and sure enough, by the time the weatherman was droning on about the weather patterns over Africa she was breathing normally again. She really did have to be more considerate of her health now, turn over a new leaf in terms of her lifestyle. Learn to relax. She’d have to eat three meals a day too—like seriously—no messing around. The mental prompt brought her to her feet and she walked into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator door, she stared at her semiempty fridge. Except for the champagne she hadn’t drunk because it reminded her too much of Dominic, the entire contents of her fridge consisted of a bag of nearly three-month-old apples, some shriveled lemons, and lettuce so gross she’d need disposable gloves to touch it. Christ, everything was gross. She shut the door, ordered a pizza, and went online to see if she could find a grocery store that delivered.