Робин Грейди – Unfinished Business: Bought: One Night, One Marriage / Always the Bridesmaid / Confessions of a Millionaire's Mistress (страница 20)
Desperately she searched for another way to appeal to him. ‘We don’t have to marry to get what we both want.’
‘What I want, Cally, is for my child to grow up as part of a family.’
That stopped her. Family? From the man who never talked marriage and babies? Suddenly he was talking family?
Anger resurged in her. She knew all about family. About betrayal and loss and how much it hurt when the security you were supposed to get never eventuated. Her parents had married for this exact reason—because her mother had got pregnant. And that marriage had failed—her mother walking out on them less than two years later and leaving her father in one hell of an ugly mess.
She paced towards him. ‘How can you honestly marry me? How can you promise to love me? How can you make that vow if you’re always so honest? If you always “deliver on your promises”?’ Scathingly she quoted him and then braced for the answer.
It was a while coming. When he did speak, it was quietly, deliberately and woundingly truthful. ‘You’re carrying my flesh and blood. You are the mother of my child. I will always honour you. I will always respect you.’
Components of love perhaps—but certainly not the whole recipe. He would never love her in that true sense. He didn’t quite say it, but he didn’t have to. She understood he had no other depth of feeling for her and, while it struck at her own dangerously soft heart, at least now she knew her child would have the benefit of two adoring parents. Emotion threatened to topple her, tears burning the backs of her eyes. ‘This baby means that much to you?’
‘Yes.’ He looked at her quizzically. ‘Is that such a surprise, Cally? Or is it only women who are allowed a strong parental urge?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. She knew damn well some women didn’t have any kind of a parental urge at all—her mother for one. But her father? Her father had loved her and cared for her and right this minute she missed him more than ever. She couldn’t deny her baby the possibility of a relationship as close as that with its own father. That realisation struck deep into her, and that moment she knew her fate was sealed. ‘Of course not.’
But while her father had been capable of great love, he’d been capable of deep hurt too. He’d been broken-hearted by her mother—by her blithe betrayal and her rejection of both him and their child. Cally was more her father’s daughter than her mother’s—she already knew how much she could hurt; Luc had proven that. Since then she’d tried to keep her heart hidden and protected. Unfortunately a little part had crept out under Blake’s playful caresses those few weeks ago. She knew she couldn’t handle the kind of humiliation and hurt that would come if she ended up falling for him while he felt nothing for her other than a kind of gratitude. She had to keep some kind of distance. Surely she had to say no to him.
But how could she? He’d win; he’d always win. He’d warned her just now and she knew to believe him. And the difference between her and Blake and the situation of her parents was that
Blake was making it clear he wanted to care for their child. He was determined to be there for it every step of the way—as her father had been there for her. How could she deny her child that?
Cally hid the internal quiver. She was trapped. So much of her didn’t want a false marriage, but she couldn’t rob her baby of its right to two loving parents.
She’d got a little more than she’d paid for on their wager, but the result was priceless. She’d sell everything to keep her child—her body, her heart, her soul.
Blake studied his bride-to-be and couldn’t decide what he wanted more—to shake her or to kiss her. Fired-up fury ran through his veins and he tried to ice it up. He’d been taken for a ride and he didn’t like it. But he was back in the driver’s seat and there he’d stay—in charge of the situation. He wouldn’t let her take the wheel again. They’d marry—a.s.a.p. and then he’d have her there right under his nose.
The sudden thought of Cally warming his bed night after night stirred his blood more. Then came the image of her lush, curvy body growing to bear the burden of his child—her head bent over a baby as she nursed it. The protective instinct rose all powerful. Masculine aggression flowed through his veins.
He would fight like the devil to keep his child, and its mother, safe from harm. He would fight her if she tried to block him, and he was quite happy to fight dirty.
He looked at the anger and uncertainty in her eyes—the passion that made the brown melt and mix with golden flecks. He saw the new bloom of colour in cheeks that had been so pale when he’d first arrived. He stared at her sulky mouth as it parted with her fast, short breaths and felt the pull in his groin. There was one way he could get her to say yes. One way he could get her to scream it.
But desire fogged his brain as well and he needed to keep focused. He’d be better to keep her out of his bed until she was there willingly—utterly willingly and for as long as he wanted. If he stayed in control now, he’d be able to retain the advantage. And he needed to do that until he had her firmly tethered to him.
When Paola had got pregnant he’d been powerless to do anything about it. He was not powerless now. And he’d keep it that way.
Cally had used him but at least she wanted the child. And now she’d got him in the bargain. A little more than she’d banked on, but he knew they could swing it to their advantage. They actually had a lot in common. Not least a sexual drive that matched nicely. Once they were through these negotiations they could have a lot of fun together. He decided to throw the thought into the fire. Test her reaction.
‘We deal together pretty well, Cally. You please me. I’m pretty sure I can please you. We can definitely work this out.’
Her breathing hitched again. ‘You think I’m going to sleep with you again?’
‘I know I want to sleep with you. I’m pretty sure you do too.’ He’d kiss her now just to prove it. Hell, he wanted to kiss her hard.
‘Why would I want to have sex with you when you’re forcing me into marriage?’
‘Don’t be so melodramatic, Cally. This isn’t a forced marriage or anything like it. What we have is a deal. A partnership.’
‘One that doesn’t include sex.’
He shrugged, inwardly smiling at the heightened colour in her cheeks. ‘You can say when it will be but, let me assure you, it will be.’
She opened her mouth and he knew she was about to make the ultimate protestation. He stopped her by laying his finger across her way-too-kissable lips.
‘Necrophilia’s not my thing. I believe your body will be very much alive and willing.’
Her teeth snapped on empty air.
He was right about this being a deal. That was how to handle it—as a business proposition—albeit unconventional. He could concede her a partnership—eighty-twenty with him holding the majority stake. They both had good business sense. They could make this work. And be satisfied. Very satisfied.
He looked across at her and could see her mentally hunting for a weapon—something, anything to make him withdraw. She was out of luck because nothing she could say would sway him.
Her eyes turned bitter as defeat approached. ‘I can’t be with someone who’ll be unfaithful.’
Black anger blinded him for a moment. God, she could be a bitch. How little she knew him. Well, he grimaced, she had a lifetime to get to know him and how he meant it when he said he was honest. He very nearly swore at her some more, but his jaw clamped when he spotted the vulnerability in her eyes. She could say what she liked, but her eyes always told him the real story. Right now this was one angry woman who was just that little bit scared—that little bit hurt. That little bit got to him. He wanted her to be in his keeping, but he didn’t want her hurt or afraid.
He took a deep breath. ‘I have never been with more than one woman at a time. And I never will. When I promise to be faithful to you, rest assured, I will be.’
Something flashed in her eyes and he fancied it was disbelief. Fine. He’d prove it. He had plenty of time to. Anger came surging back as he thought of something so distasteful every muscle in his body clenched. ‘And I totally expect the same from you.’ He thought he knew why the idea was so abhorrent. ‘I will not have my child exposed to infidelity or have you parade a string of unsuitable boyfriends before it.’
Suddenly Cally was the one who was angry. ‘I don’t cheat.’ She forced the words at him.
‘Good. Keep it that way.’
She opened her mouth. Shut it again. And concentrated hard on keeping her grip, only just restraining the urge to hit him—an urge she’d only ever had once in her life before, about five minutes ago.
She watched as he too tried to keep his cool. The silence was thick as frustration and sheer rage were mirrored in each other’s eyes. And the worst of it was that the primary source of Cally’s anger was that she still wanted him. His closeness, his presence had her yearning for him. It was that ‘conquering ferocious man’ thing again. The place between her thighs was all softness and wet. She wanted to take his hardness deep inside and squeeze the tension from both of them. He was so appallingly attractive—even now. She wanted to rid herself of her extreme physical need by rubbing against him in an extremely physical way. Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples so hard it was almost painful. She pressed the tops of her thighs together trying to get rid of some of the energy by clamping the muscles, stopping the urge to rock her hips forward.