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doubt it was another chunk to add to this bizarre puzzle to which only Caitlin’s father had all the pieces. Instead of reading the letter when Dr. Flores had handed it to him, he had stuffed the envelope in his pocket to read later. He wasn’t ready to read anything Caitlin’s father had written to him. He was still trying to recover from the old man’s claim that he and Caitlin were still legally married.
    Fury almost choked Dex. He was tired of playing games. He wanted answers and wanted them now, and he intended on getting them from Caitlin. He got out of the car and walked up to the house.
    Caitlin had left the door open and Dex walked inside. He heard her sobs and took the stairs two at a time, following the sound of her voice.
    He entered the bedroom at the precise moment she reached for a tan-colored jacket that was tossed across a chair. The masculine decor of the room, smelling of pipe tobacco, had been her father’s. Clutching the jacket to her chest, her shoulders began to shake.
    Dex swiftly crossed the room and gently pulled Caitlin into his arms. Once again the need to protect and shield her from pain overwhelmed him.
    She tried pulling herself out of his arms, but his hold on her tightened. “You don’t have to take care of this now, Caitlin. Come downstairs and let me get you something to eat before I leave to go check into the hotel.”
    She trembled in response to the tenderness in his voice and shook her head against his shoulder. “I—I need to tell you about Jordan, Dex.”
    Dex attempted to control the anger renewing itself within him at the mention of the man’s name. “Not now, Caitlin. We’ll talk later. I’ll come back, after you’ve rested.”
    â€œNo, Dex. We need to talk now. Jordan is…”
    Caitlin didn’t finish the statement. She felt Dex’s body push away from her. Gazing up into his face, she saw a nerve in his jaw twitch. Harsh lines etched his face. Her gaze followed his and came to rest on the picture frame sitting on her father’s dresser.
    A suffocating sensation overtook Caitlin. She stepped back out of Dex’s arms. She watched as he walked over to the dresser and picked up the frame. Her breath caught in her throat when he stood studying the photograph of her and the little girl who sat in her lap. He turned to her, his expression stony, his eyes narrowing. “Who’s this in the picture with you?”
    Caitlin’s voice was barely a whisper when she responded. “Jordan.”
    Dex stared at her in both shock and surprise. Jordan wasn’t a man but a little girl? He gazed at the photograph he held in his hand, closely examining the face of the little girl. He studied the abundance of black wavy hair entwined into two fat braids, the shape of her nut-brown face, the curve of her eyebrows, the thick lashes fanning her eyes and the fullness of her lips. But what really caught his attention was the color of her eyes. They were charcoal-gray. The photographer’s camera had picked up the color perfectly.
    A heaviness erupted in his chest. “How old is she, Caitlin?” His question thundered loudly in the room.
    Caitlin’s voice was filled with apprehension when she answered. “She turned three on March first.”
    Dex’s gaze never left Caitlin as he stared in disbelief. He began doing calculations in his head. If she was born the first of March then she was conceived the end of May, during the first week of their marriage.
    Dex’s jaw hardened as his anger escalated. He knew without a doubt he was looking into the face of his child. A child he’d known nothing about. He also had a sinking feeling as to why Caitlin’s father had gone through so much trouble to preserve their marriage, and why Caitlin still used his name.
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell me?” he asked in a voice that shook with rage. “How could you not let me know I had a