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very happy with the way things are.”
    She followed his gaze as he looked around the room. “Things appear to be very good, Miss Roberts. Do you have a...roommate?”
    Savannah bristled at the implication in his sarcastic tone. She realized an expensive town house like this one would be difficult for most single women to maintain. Lord knew, she never would have been able to afford it on her teacher’s salary, but for Angela it had been no problem. The lease was paid up for another four months; then Savannah knew she’d have to move to a smaller place.
    â€œNo, Mr. Stone, I don’t have a roommate. I don’t need or want one.”
    He raised one brow, and when his gaze settled on the hairbrush she’d left lying on the armchair, his eyes narrowed. “And Emma,” he said, staring thoughtfully at the brush, “what about her?”
    Savannah gritted her teeth at Jake’s question, but if answering a few questions would get rid of the man, then she was happy to oblige. “She attends a prestigious private girl’s school, has piano lessons every Tuesday and soccer on Saturdays. Other than an occasional argument over eating spinach or picking up her dirty clothes, the two of us get along beautifully.”
    Jake rested his arms across the back of the couch. His gaze dropped to her left hand. “So you never married.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAnd Emma doesn’t know who her father is.”
    Savannah’s jaw tightened. “It wasn’t necessary.”
    â€œIs that your answer or Emma’s?”
    Savannah felt as if a band were cinching around her chest, squeezing the breath from her. “I asked you before what you want with us, Mr. Stone. I’ll ask you that again.”
    â€œAnd I’ll answer you again. I’m here to meet Emma.”
    â€œAnd if I agree, then what?”
    â€œShe’s my sister. The Stone family never walks away from one of their own.”
    Panic filled Savannah at Jake’s comment. What was he saying? That he wanted to take Emma? She’d never let that happen. Never. She’d run so far the Stone family would never find her or Emma.
    Shoulders stiff, Savannah stood and faced Jake. “Why you think you have the right to waltz in here and make demands is beyond me, but as far as I’m concerned, this conversation is through. I think you better leave, Mr. Stone.”
    He didn’t budge. Instead, he slowly let his gaze scan her, starting at her legs, hesitating at her breasts, then finally resting on her face. The perusal was long and detailed, and as furious as it made her, Savannah also felt a hot swirl low in her stomach. Clenching her fists, she started to turn toward the front door.
    â€œHow old are you, Miss Roberts?”
    She went still at his question, then slowly turned back to face him. “Excuse me?’
    â€œI said—” Jake stood “—how old are you?”
    Savannah nervously brushed her hair back from her face. “What business is that of yours?”
    â€œI would guess you’re around twenty-five or -six.”
    She said nothing, just stared at him.
    â€œAnd that would make you about sixteen or seventeen when you had an affair with my father.”
    Dammit, dammit! There’d been too many years separating her and Angela. Savannah had tried to look older. Conservative clothes and extra makeup. Obviously she’d underestimated Jake Stone.
    â€œI look younger than I am,” she said truthfully. She was twenty-seven.
    He kept his eyes on her. “What was my father’s first name?”
    Savannah felt her throat go dry. “J.T., of course.”
    Impatience twitched at the corner of his mouth. “What was his first name?”
    How could she possibly know that? Angela had never wanted anyone to know who Emma’s father was. If the private investigator hadn’t called, Savannah never would have known his name at all. “He didn’t