Jenna figured pregnancy would be the least of her worries. She didn’t want another guy coming anywhere near her. She’d been twenty-four at the time of the accident, and was twenty-five now. But there was no way she could bring a child into the mess that was her life, even in the unlikely event someone could tolerate her for long enough to do the act that would create one.
Self pity swelled up inside her, but she pressed her lips together and closed her eyes against her reflection. She’d cried too many tears over the last year. Recently, she’d had a better handle on her emotions, but with the approaching date, she found she was starting to struggle again.
She let out a sigh and turned from the mirror. Bending to her bags, she pulled out her clothes—her usual outfit of leggings, a smock-top, together with a fresh set of underwear—and got dressed. At least fully clothed she could pretend she was just like everyone else.
Jenna took her laptop from her bag and settled herself on her bed. In places that didn’t have Wi-Fi, she used a USB dongle to connect to the internet. She topped up her credit as she needed it, not wanting to add a contract to the list of things she could be traced by, but even using the pay-as-you-go version made her nervous. It was still registered in her name, after all, and in her head she could see all the internet beams pointing down at her position like neon flashing signs.
Still, she had no choice. Even being on the move, she still had to work to pay for all the things she needed, same as everyone else—a roof over her head, food, her car—and so she needed to work.
Jenna checked her email. She had a couple of requests from people wanting her to write advertising copy for various items. Most of the time, she was able to write the pieces simply from the description the company provided her with, or from clips she could watch online, but on occasion items needed to be sent to her. On those occasions, she’d needed to provide the company with the address of the motel where she’d been currently staying so they could send her the product. Though she didn’t like to stay in one place for long, she needed to work, so she stayed until the item arrived. The company never asked for them to be sent back.
As always, when she was working, the time flew by, and by the time she lifted her head from her laptop, dusk had fallen, the world outside her window coated in a deepening purple hue.
A sharp knock on her door made her jump. Her heart leapt in her chest, instantly banging against her ribcage, while every muscle in her body tensed, her ears straining for the next sound. Who the hell would be knocking on her door? Was it him?
No, he wouldn’t bother to knock.
The realization made her calm down, and the knock came again.
Jenna got up and went to the door. She stood on tiptoes and peered out of the spy hole. A man stood outside, positioned side on to the door. She caught sight of dark hair, a serious, strong face, a glint of a ring in his ear and a dark swirl of tattoos reaching up his broad throat.
Her heart leapt again, but for a different reason. Ryker! What the hell was he doing here?
Quickly, she yanked her hair from the ponytail she’d pulled it into after her shower. She ran to the mirror and checked under her eyes for any smudges of mascara. She fluffed her hair and grabbed a lip balm, smearing some over her lips, before rushing back to the door. She took a calming breath and then slowly opened the door.
Ryker had just started to walk away, but turned back when he heard the door open. The sight of him made her breathless. The thick fringe of eyelashes highlighted the blue of his eyes. The fullness of his mouth made her want to bite his lower lip. The tattoos and piercings gave him a hint of danger.
“Oh, hey,” he said. “I’d almost given up on you.”
“Sorry. I was working. I tend to block out the outside world when I’m lost in a project.” She glanced down at the paper bag in his hands. Tantalizing scents wafted from the opening. “What are you doing here?”
He lifted the bag up as explanation. “I figured if you didn’t want to go out to dinner, I would bring dinner to you.”
She blinked in surprise. “You did?”
He approached, and his form suddenly seemed imposing. “I want to have dinner with you. I don’t usually take no for answer.”
“Really?” She couldn’t imagine why he would want to eat dinner with her in a stuffy old motel room. “Don’t you have somewhere more interesting you’d rather be?”
He glanced over her shoulder, toward the bed, and the corner of his mouth quirked, making her heart beat harder. “I couldn’t think of anywhere more interesting than your motel room.”
Her voice raised an octave. “Arlington must be really dull then.”