“I know you’re in there, you rat bastard!” Bailey yelled, pounding on the door as she did so. She shot a glance at little Anastasia in her stroller—the baby was still asleep, though probably not for long. But Bailey needed to reach Alex Kamarov worse than she needed Ana to sleep, so she kept pounding.

Dirty bastard. Knocked Kayla up and left her to have the baby by herself. Not that Bailey had known the first thing about it since her sister had taken off around six months ago with only a brief note.

Going to California with Melanie. I’ll call.

Kayla had not called, and Bailey had fretted the entire time. But postcards came every once in a while, and Kayla’s Facebook page sported the occasional photo. Maybe Bailey should have been more worried, but she was used to Kayla taking off. Her sister would be gone for a few weeks or a few months, but she always came back again. Usually when the money ran out and she had nothing left.

But this time she’d returned with a surprise. A bouncing-baby surprise. Bailey had opened the door just a week ago to Kayla and Ana. Kayla hadn’t wanted to tell her at first who the father was, but Bailey insisted. After a couple of days of pushing, she got a name.

Alex Kamarov was a Navy SEAL Kayla had met while waitressing at Buddy’s Bar & Grill. Bailey had only been in there a handful of times, mostly when Kayla was still working, and she knew the place was overrun with tall, muscled military types. They were also the type who often came to the Pink Palace and hooted the evening away. Bailey shuddered. To think one of them had touched her sister. Knocked her up and let her deal with it alone, damn him. It pissed Bailey off more than she could say.

Bailey had argued with Kayla about the baby, but for some reason Kayla wouldn’t hear of asking Alex for money. Three days after her revelation, Kayla left again, this time leaving a note that said she didn’t have time for a baby and didn’t want to be a mother. She knew Bailey would know what to do with little Ana.

Yeah, Bailey knew what to do all right. After she’d gotten over Kayla’s figurative roundhouse kick to the gut, which she still didn’t understand because she’d have sworn Kayla adored the kid the way she’d fussed over her, Bailey had piled the baby into her old Volkswagen, praying the whole time that today wasn’t the day it gave up the ghost for good, and puttered over to the house she’d found when she’d started searching for Alex Kamarov. She hoped he still lived here.

Ana made a noise and Bailey started to tap rather than pound. It had taken forever to get the kid to sleep, and Bailey didn’t want to have to start over again.

“I know you’re in there, you rat bastard,” she repeated as she tapped on the door repeatedly. “Answer the goddamn door!”

She lifted her hand to hit the door again, but it opened and she stumbled, colliding with a hard body. Bailey scrambled backward, trying to right herself without falling. The man—very tall, very broad, very sexy, with no shirt and a pair of boxers, not to mention a head of dark hair standing up as if he’d just gotten out of bed—squinted into the light.

Holy mother of—

“Are you Alex Kamarov?”

“Yeah. Why?”

His voice was gravelly with sleep, but it still managed to drip down her spine like honey. No, stop. He’s a bad man. A man who takes advantage of young women and leaves them high and dry.

“Because you need to step up and stop shirking your responsibilities, that’s why.”

“Lady, I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about.”

Fury rolled through her. She reached for the stroller and turned it so he could see little Ana, who was thankfully still asleep.

“I’m talking about your baby, Alex. Your baby.”

His leaf-green eyes narrowed. She resolutely did not focus on the happy trail of dark hair leading down his abdomen and disappearing beneath the boxers. Eyes, Bailey. Look at the eyes.

They were pissed-off eyes. Sexy eyes.

“You expect me to believe that’s my kid? I don’t even know you, lady. You could be anybody, making shit up for reasons of your own.”

Holy ab muscles, she wanted to punch him. What kind of man knocked a woman up and didn’t even care? “How dare you? I am not making this up. Anastasia is yours.”

She wasn’t expecting the sudden grin that broke out on his face. It wasn’t immediate, but when it happened, it was not at all what she’d thought it would be. She’d expected an explosion, not a response that intimated she’d just told him a great joke.

“Sorry, babe,” he drawled, “but you’re going to have to prove it.”

Bailey stiffened. How could she make this man step up and do the right thing? There were tests, sure, but would he take one?

As if Ana sensed the turmoil in the air, she let out a wail. Panic flooded Bailey. She didn’t know what to do when Ana cried. Hell, she barely understood the diapering process, and here she was, full-time caregiver. The kid was cute but overwhelming as hell.

Bailey picked the baby up and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Yeah, she was out of her depth, but it wasn’t Ana’s fault. “Hush, little angel. Hush. Auntie Bailey’s got you. Shh.”

Alex Kamarov suddenly held the door open. “Why don’t you come inside until she stops crying?”

Uncertainty rushed through her, twisting her belly into a knot. He was big. So big… “I-I don’t know…”

“Look, if I’m the father—and I’m not saying I am—you don’t expect I won’t ever want to see the kid, do you? Which means bringing her here to my house. So come inside and figure out what she wants.”

“What she wants?”

“Diaper. Food.” He cocked his head to the side. “You ever take care of a baby?”

She thought about lying, but she was too exhausted. Besides, what did it matter? “I’m learning.”

He held out his hands. “Give her to me.”

Bailey blinked, tightening her grip protectively. “You? What do you know?”

He arched an eyebrow, his arrogance palpable. “I’m the oldest of six. I know a thing or two. Now hand her over and come inside. Or stand out here and let her scream. Your choice, Bailey.”

Her name. He’d said her name. She didn’t like the way her heart fluttered or the way she wanted to obey his command. But if she didn’t take this to the next step, how could she expect him to agree to any tests, much less accept responsibility? God knew she needed the help. She was barely getting by as it was. A little cooperation couldn’t hurt.

Bailey handed him the baby, eyeing him warily. He took Ana with sure hands, tucked her into the crook of his arm, and started rocking her back and forth while singing a song… in a language that wasn’t English.

He went through the door and Bailey rushed in behind him, her heart pounding as she imagined what might go wrong. What if he slammed the door on her and kept Ana? She couldn’t let that happen. He turned to look at her.

“You have a bottle?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Can I have it?”

She went back onto the porch and pushed the stroller inside. Then she grabbed the diaper bag Kayla had left her and took out one of the bottles with infant formula. Kayla had said she couldn’t breastfeed because her milk didn’t come in. She’d been so skinny that Bailey had believed her, though now she wondered if Kayla had simply been setting it up so she could leave. Because she sure hadn’t hung around for long before disappearing.

Bailey handed Alex the bottle. He took it and gently inserted it into Ana’s mouth. The baby latched on and ceased crying instantly. Bailey didn’t like the shard of jealousy that stabbed into her. How many times had she tried to give Ana a bottle when she was crying and it didn’t work?

Too many.

“How did you know?” she asked.

Alex Kamarov looked up from his contemplation of Ana and lifted an eyebrow. “Because her diaper wasn’t wet or stinky, so that was choice number two.”

“Choice number three?”

“Gas, probably. I’d have thought about that if the bottle didn’t work.”

Bailey rubbed her hands down her arms and took in her surroundings. It was a small house, but the furniture looked welcoming and the room was clean. It didn’t look like a bachelor pad. In fact, it looked almost unlived in. Like a crash pad rather than a home.

She knew all about crash pads. Growing up, she and Kayla had been dragged by her parents from trailer park to trailer park until they finally landed in one so awful that nobody seemed to care if the rent was late. Bailey had sworn she was getting out of there as soon as possible. The minute she turned sixteen, she’d done it—and she’d taken twelve-year-old Kayla with her. Their mom was dead of a drug overdose by then, and their dad was so high he didn’t care.

She walked around the room now, looking at her surroundings but not touching anything. A wave of tiredness washed over her. She’d had long nights and longer days lately. She had to work tonight, but she still hadn’t arranged any childcare. If she brought Ana to the club, the girls would love it but Deke would have a shit fit. He didn’t permit the girls to bring children to the nightclub.

Especially not the kind of nightclub he ran. Bailey closed her eyes and told herself, the same as she had every day for the past few months, that it was temporary. Stripping earned more money than waitressing, and if she wanted to go to college and make a better life, she had to choose what would get her the most money the fastest.

Except that stripping wasn’t as lucrative as she’d hoped. After rent and bills, her take-home was healthy but still not enough to cover tuition. Her goal now was to save as much as possible and take out loans for the rest. Hence the cheap car and the cheap apartment.

“Why don’t you sit down, Bailey?” His voice was soothing, his words welcome.

She started to sink onto a couch and then stopped, stiffening. “I’m fine.”

“You aren’t fine.” He cradled little Ana, who sucked her bottle and acted like a perfect angel. “You’re dead on your feet.”

“Babies do that to a person.”

His grin was lethal. Arrowed right down into her toes and back up again, ricocheting off the neglected regions that hadn’t seen any action in, oh, about a year now. Since she started at the Pink Palace. She didn’t meet nice guys in her job. The ones she met turned her off so, yeah, that was that. She didn’t know if she’d ever have a normal relationship again. She’d seen far too much of the dark side of men’s behavior.

“Yep, sure can. So sit down. Tell me why you think this little girl is mine.”

“You aren’t supposed to be nice about it,” she grumbled. But she sat. Leaned her head back on the chair. Closed her eyes for a second. Just a second, and then she’d open them again and tell him what Kayla had told her about their meeting and the night they spent together.

The sliver of jealousy she felt at the thought of this man stripping her sister naked was uncharacteristic. Really, it was just because she hadn’t had sex in so long. That was it. Not because he was stunning. And even if he was stunning, he was still a prick for letting Kayla have Ana on her own. She couldn’t forget that, even if his couch was soft and the room was warm…

“I’m not nice, Bailey,” he said softly, his voice dripping down her spine. “But I’m not an asshole either.”

“Prove it.”