His Secret Son

Three nights with a Texan...and one pregnancy surprise! Only from New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson!

The Texas rancher and navy SEAL who fathered Bristol Lockett’s son died a hero’s death...or so she was told. Yet when Laramie “Coop” Cooper strolls into her exhibit at an art gallery three years later, he’s very much alive—and still making her pulse zing. The all-consuming chemistry between them is as undeniable now as it was then, but Bristol won’t risk her heart—or their son’s. Little does Bristol know he’s determined to win over his unexpected family at any cost!

A sexy smile touched the corners of his lips.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment I saw you.”

Bristol drew in a deep breath and stared at him. “I just can’t believe you are alive. Someone in the State Department checked into it and told me you’d died.”

“When was this?”

“A month after I last saw you.”

He nodded. “I was presumed dead, so the person was right. I was rescued just days before Christmas the following year.”

“That was a long time.”

“Yes, it was.” Only his close friends knew about the nightmares he’d had for months following his rescue. Nightmares he still had at times.

“Why were you trying to reach me, Bristol?”

Drawing in another deep breath, she met his gaze and said, “I wanted to let you know I was pregnant.”

* * *

His Secret Son

is part of The Westmoreland Legacy—

Friends and relatives of the legendary

Westmoreland family find love!

His Secret Son

Brenda Jackson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BRENDA JACKSON is a New York Times bestselling author of more than one hundred romance titles. Brenda lives in Jacksonville, Florida, and divides her time between family, writing and traveling.

Email Brenda at [email protected] or visit her on her website at www.brendajackson.net.

To the man who will always and forever have my heart, Gerald Jackson Sr.

To Cozett Mazelin and Tamira K. Butler-Likely. Thanks for your assistance in my research of two-year-olds. Your information was invaluable and I hope I did the character of “Little Laramie” justice! I could tell from your responses that you are great moms!!

To my readers who continue to love my Westmorelands, this book is for you.

For none of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone.

—Romans 14:7, NIV

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Epigraph

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

Bristol Lockett hurriedly moved toward her front door, wondering who would be visiting this late in the afternoon. Although it was still light outside, this particular Paris community was on the other side of town from the famous city center, where most people hung out on Friday nights and weekends. Normally, she would be there herself, but her habits had changed in the last couple of months.

She was one of those pregnant women who experienced morning sickness in the morning and at night. Smells alone would send her running to the nearest bathroom. Most morning sickness lasted until the twelfth week of pregnancy. She was in her sixteenth week and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. Her doctor had even placed her on a special diet to make sure she was getting sufficient nutrients into her body for her baby.

A glance out the peephole indicated her visitor was her best friend, Dionne Burcet. She and Dionne had met when Bristol first arrived in Paris four years ago to attend Académie des Beaux-Arts, which was considered one of the most prestigious and influential art schools in all of France. Dionne also attended the art academy and with so much in common, they’d hit it off immediately.

Dionne, who’d been born in Paris, had introduced Bristol to French culture, and Bristol had taken Dionne home with her to America last Christmas to meet her aunt Dolly and to experience New Year’s Eve in New York. A feeling of sadness fell over Bristol whenever she remembered that was the last holiday she and her aunt had spent together. Her aunt, her only relative, had died a few days later in her sleep.

Bristol opened the door smiling. “Dionne! This is a surprise. I thought you were leaving for—”

“I have something to tell you, Bristol.”

Bristol heard the urgency in Dionne’s voice, which resonated in her eyes, as well. “Okay, come on in. Would you like a cup of tea? I was just about to make a pot.”

“Yes, thanks.”

Bristol wondered about Dionne’s strange demeanor as she led her friend to the kitchen, which wasn’t far from the front door. She loved her studio apartment. It was small but just the right size for her. And it held a lot of memories. Her baby was conceived here, in her bed. She would miss this place when she moved back to the United States next month after graduation.

“Sit and tell me what’s wrong. Did you and Mark have a fight?”

Dionne shook her head as she sat down at the table. “No. It’s not about me, it’s about you.”