Sharon Sala - Royals Child (The Justice Way) (Silhouette Intimate Moments No. 913) (Silhouette Intimate Moments, 913 : the Justice Way)

Royal's Child

Book Jacket

Chapter 1

T he fat man on the floor was holding his crotch and cursing in at least two languages. But Angel Rojas was impervious to his threats. She'd heard them all before. Instead of cowering beneath his anger, she pushed at his foot with the toe of her shoe in a warning gesture.

"Shut up, Louie. You can't fire me. I already quit."

His face green, Louie groaned. "You bitch! Your days in this town are over. I'll make damn sure you never work around here again."

His threats didn't frighten her, and harsh words had long since lost their ability to hurt her. Angel Maria Conchita Rojas had learned early on that the only people who could hurt you were the ones you loved. And the last person Angel loved had been her mother, who died when she was seven. By the time she was nine she'd run away from home, weary of the beatings her father kept giving her. As a teenager, she had run from one foster home after another. Angel had been running all her life and was afraid to stop. If she had, the devastation of her life might have overwhelmed her. She'd become adept at surviving in a male-dominated world and even more so at protecting herself.

But at the age of twenty-five, she was still waiting to find a place to call home. Her entire existence consisted of what she called pit stops. Fat Louie's Bar and Grill on the outskirts of

Tuscaloosa , Alabama , was about to become a part of her history.

Angel felt like cheering. Today she'd reached a breaking point and done something about it. Lewd innuendos and groping hands were a thing of her past. With a heartfelt sigh of relief, she tossed her apron aside.

"You owe me two hundred and fifty dollars for the last two weeks' work. Don't bother to get up. I'll help myself."

Louie cursed again. "I'll have you arrested for stealing."

Angel turned, and the look on her face was warning enough. Louie was silenced.

"I personally know six other women, besides myself, who are willing to file charges of sexual harassment against you. Are you interested in calling my bluff?"

Wincing with pain, Louie struggled to get up. But there was something in her words he couldn't ignore. His complexion darkened as he waved a fist in her direction.

"Just get your damned money and get out." Then he cupped his crotch again and groaned.

Angel counted out her money and then grabbed her jacket and purse. By the time she got to the door, Louie was on his feet and still cursing her name.

She never looked back.

Royal Justice rolled out of bed and stood within the quiet of his bedroom. His heart was hammering against his chest as he glanced at the clock. It was almost five. In an hour or so the sun would be breaking the cover of darkness. His four-year-old daughter, Maddie, was asleep in her room down the hall, and although he couldn't hear a thing but the intermittent drip from a leaking shower head, he knew something was wrong. Nearly five years of being a single parent had honed his instincts to razor-sharp perception. Without hesitation, he grabbed his Levi's, hastily dressing as he started out of his room.

Maddie was fine when he'd put her to bed last night, but he'd learned the hard way that time and children never stay static. Just as he reached the door of her room, the flesh crawled on the back of his neck. Shuddering, he paused, and it was as if a hand centered in the middle of his back suddenly pushed him forward. Frowning at his flight of fancy, he stepped in.

He knew before he touched her that she was sick. Maddie could tear up a bed faster than anyone he knew when she was healthy. When she was restless, it was impossible to tell head from foot. The covers were in a wad on the floor, and her pillow was nowhere in sight. He turned on the bedside lamp. When he brushed his hand across her cheek, her skin felt hot to his touch. She opened her eyes, but he could tell it wasn't him she was seeing. The image frightened him.

"I don't see her," Maddie mumbled.

"See who, baby?" Royal asked, but Maddie didn't answer. His hand was shaking as he cupped the side of her face. "Maddie? See who?"

"The lady. I don't see the lady."

He gritted his teeth and dashed into the adjoining bathroom, emerging moments later with a cold, wet washcloth. As he bent to wipe it across her burning face, she began to whisper.

"Daddy? Daddy?"

"Daddy's here, baby."

"I don't feel good, Daddy. My bed is spinning. Make it stop. Make it stop."

Royal clenched his jaw. He'd faced wild bulls, mad dogs and crazy hired hands without batting an eye, but anything regarding his daughter's well-being made him sick to his stomach.

"I know," he said softly. "Tell me where you feel bad." She rolled into a fetal position without answering.

Royal's pulse shifted into high gear as he ran his hands along her arms. Her entire body was so hot and dry it almost felt like paper.

"Angel," Maddie mumbled, weakly pushing against the restraint of her father's hands. "I can't find my angel."

Royal's heart nearly stopped. "No!" he groaned, and thrust his hands into her hair and turned her until she was facing him.

The mere mention of angels made him crazy. He'd watched his wife, Susan, die and had tried to die with her. But that was

before they'd put Maddie in his arms. Within a week of bringing his baby girl home from the hospital, he'd been too tired and sleep-deprived to think of anything but the next bottle to heat and the next diaper to change. At that point, Royal Justice would have had to get better to die. But that was then, and this was now, and he wasn't giving up any more of his family without a fight.

"Maddie, tell Daddy where you feel bad. Can you do that?" Instead of answering, she fell into a feverish sleep.

He turned on the overhead lights, trying not to panic. Her long, dark hair was damp with perspiration and was sticking to her neck and face. He threw back the covers, then inhaled sharply as his gaze centered on a large, inflamed area on her thigh. Stunned, he bent closer, rubbing the area, testing the size and the heat emanating from within.

"Damn."

There was little else to say. His hands shook as he quickly checked the rest of her body, making certain there were no more spots like it. There were not.

It hadn't been there when he'd put her to bed. He would have bet his life on it. And then he remembered how impatient he'd been with her and how cranky he'd been when he'd tossed her pajamas on the bed. He thought back. The phone had rung. He'd left the room to answer it. By the time he had returned, she was already in her pajamas and in bed, begging him to read her a story.

Pain wrapped around a big dose of guilt as he remembered that

he hadn't read her the story, either. Instead, he'd given her a quick kiss good-night and promised to read her two stories tomorrow. All he could think now was, Please, God, let there be a tomorrow for her.

He looked at the huge welt again. The only thing he could think of was that something had bitten her. Probably an insect. But what? She'd been bitten by mosquitoes, stung by bees, even stung by a wasp, and not once had she experienced a reaction like this.

When she began to shiver, he panicked. He had to get her to a doctor, and fast.

"Maddie, I'm going to get dressed and then I'm taking you to the doctor. He'll make you feel better."

The fact that she didn't even argue about an impending trip to the doctor was sign enough for Royal that this was serious.

He was down the hall and in his room within seconds, yanking shirts from hangers and socks from his drawer. Within moments, he was dressed and in her room.