Betrayed by Trust by Frankie Robertson Page B

me was just part of your job? Gee, thanks. And you’re surprised I don’t want to see you?”
    “It wasn’t like that. At least not afterward. Once you got going, you were pretty hot. You had a good time. No one forced you into anything.”
    “So now I’m a slut, is that it?”
    “No! I care about you.” His tone suggested that he thought that was self-evident.
    I wished the parking lot lights were brighter so I could see his face better, but it didn’t matter. “Really? I thought I was a Mata Hari.”
    “I was angry. I didn’t mean it.”
    “You tried to undermine me with Kincaid.”
    He flung out a hand. “I don’t like where this op is going. I don’t want to see you screw up the rest of your life!”
    “You were fine with it while you were screwing me!” A curtain twitched in the window behind him as the old woman who lived below me peeked out. I took a deep breath and spoke in a low, hard voice. “What I’m doing is important. You know that. Now let me by.”
    “Not until you hear me out!”
    “What else could you possibly have to say?”
    He ran a hand through his blond hair, making it stand on end. “I didn’t want it to be this way,” he muttered. Then he took a step closer to me.
    I held my ground even though I wanted to retreat.
    “Marry me.”
    I couldn’t believe what I’d heard.
    Barry must have sensed my doubt. “Marry me,” he repeated.
    I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Did he really think I’d marry someone who would hate the child I was going to have? “No.”
    He looked surprised. “That’s it? Just, ‘No?’”
    What explanation could I give that he’d accept? It was beyond bizarre that he’d asked—no, that he’d demanded I marry him—in the first place. “That’s it, Barry. I’m sorry. There’s nothing else to say.”
    “I deserve more explanation than that!”
    I didn’t even try to keep the exasperation out of my voice. “You could have married me before, but you chose not to. You don’t get a do over.”
    “Is this about getting your feelings hurt? Did you want romance? I thought you were bigger than that.”
    “No, Barry. This is about you being a jerk.”
    His lips tightened in a sneer and he took another step toward me.
    This time I stepped back. “You can go now.”
    “Fine. If that’s how you want it. You’ve made your bed.” He brushed by me, and flung open his car door into mine, dinging the side panel. “You don’t know the game you’re playing,” he said, then got in and drove away.
    What the hell did that mean?
    I stared after his tail-lights for a second, trying to make sense of his last remark, then I climbed the stairs to my door. Anger sizzled through my body. My hands shook and it took me three tries to get the key in the lock.
    I slammed the door behind me, and threw the deadbolt. How dare he? Did Barry really think his lame demand that I marry him was a proposal? That I would fall at his feet? That I was so easy? Or desperate? Was it because I’d let him charm me into his bed? And he said I was playing a dangerous game?
    The phone rang, jangling my nerves. “What?” I demanded of the beige plastic device. It didn’t care that I was furious; it just continued ringing. I made myself take a deep breath before picking up. “Hello?”
    The caller hesitated before speaking. I must not have calmed my voice enough, because Dan asked, “Everything okay?”
    “Just peachy.” I really wanted a glass of wine, but that was off limits now.
    “You want to talk about it?”
    “No. I do not want to talk about it.” I was being a bitch. Dan wasn’t the one who deserved my wrath, but my mouth seemed to have a life of its own. I blurted, “Barry was waiting for me when I got home.”
    “What did he want?” Dan’s tone held a hint of a growl.
    Was he feeling protective? A small part of me liked the idea, but I didn’t need him to ride to my rescue. “Never mind. I took care of it.”
    “Tell me,” he commanded. He was