He crept into my thoughts, too, probably way more than he imagined. “I don’t know.” I wasn’t willing to concede just yet. My husband hadn’t been dead all that long, along with a thousand other reasons this wouldn’t work.

“At least say you’ll think about it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He nodded. “Caro, there are a few other things we need to handle.”

Here it came. I should’ve known there was a catch. I held my breath while every muscle in my body tensed, preparing me for the worst.

“I want to adopt the kids, but first we have to tell them I’m their dad. If we don’t do it soon, they may find out by accident. Too many people know. It could get out publicly. Besides, I want them to have my last name, not Mills, and I have that right. And not hyphenated. I can’t do that. I wish I was a big enough man to say I could, but I can’t. They’re my blood.”

And the hits kept on coming. Easton wanted to adopt the children so they’d have his last name? But then they wouldn’t have Mark’s last name or my last name.

I was losing my babies, whether I liked it or not. The more legal control Easton had over them, the less I had.

The kids were already crazy about him. Little by little, they fell deeper under his spell. I, too, struggled to resist his charms, so I didn’t know how two small children would ever be able to resist, nor would they want to once they found out he was their father.

The other thing I grappled with was trust. I wasn’t certain I trusted him. I’d always had trust issues because of my own parents, who’d made promise after promise and never followed through. How did I know Easton wouldn’t betray me, too? What made me such a good judge of character to think Easton would have my back when it might not be to his advantage to do so?

I met his gaze with a steady one of my own. “No, I won’t let you adopt them and change their last name. I owe Mark that much.”

His mouth thinned into a grim line and his jawed tightened. He glared at me, and I glared back. “You’re being unreasonable. I can protect them.”

“From who? Me?”

His anger faded to hurt. “You think I’d do that to you?”

“I don’t know what to think. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave my home.” I stood, holding on to the counter until I had my bearings.

“Caro, don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Let’s discuss this. Talk about it.”

“You’re not adopting them. There’s nothing to discuss. They’re my children.”

With his face a tense mask, he stood and strode toward the front door. I followed him. With his hand on the knob, he turned and said grimly, “They’re my children, too, Caro. Don’t you forget that. Nothing will stand in my way of being their father. Nothing.”