Her Pregnancy Secret Page 11

  Was he afraid? Of her? No, that couldn’t be. Not when his black eyes were so hard. It was she who felt terrified that he would reject her or be cruel.

  “Have I done something wrong?” she asked. “Tonight was wonderful for me. Even better than before. I hoped... I thought that maybe we could start over.”

  “I’m fine,” he ground out. Then as if he couldn’t bear the sight of her, he closed his eyes and turned his back on her. “Go back to bed. I have an important meeting tomorrow. I need to go over a few things as you can plainly see.”

  Hurt swamped her. Swaying a little, her nails dug into the doorframe. She didn’t know how she summoned the nerve to hold her ground.

  “You can’t work all the time, darling, now can you?” she said gently. Before she lost her courage, she crossed the room and slid her arms around him.

  He jumped as if her touch and nearness burned him.

  “I’m sure your meeting will go better if you get some sleep,” she persisted.

  “As if I could sleep with you—downstairs.”

  “I could stay up here and maybe give you a massage.”

  “No!”

  “Yes! You’re much too tense. Your muscles are all knotted.”

  “Because I have work to do!”

  Beneath her exploring fingertips his warm, bare skin was smooth as she kneaded the deep tissue of his muscles. When he slowly relaxed and then sighed as if in defeat, she sucked in a breath and laid her lips against his wide chest.

  “I can’t bear it down there without you, darling. Not when tonight’s our last night together.”

  He hesitated briefly before slamming his laptop closed and folding his arms around her. “I left you because I thought it was best for both of us.”

  “You won’t be sorry. I’m really very good at massages,” she said. “I even took a course once...at night school during a short-lived self-improvement kick.”

  “Bree, oh, my darling,” he murmured, the tension flowing out of his deep voice. “Like I said, I came up here with the best of intentions.”

  “Did you now?”

  “You have no idea what you do to me.”

  “You have the rest of the night to tell me...or better yet, show me. Whichever you prefer, my love.”

  His mouth claimed hers in a long kiss that was the sweetest he’d ever given her. He did feel something. She was almost sure of it.

  Maybe there was hope, she thought. Maybe...

  For a long moment, as she pondered the possibility, she didn’t dare breathe.

  Pulling her closer, he opened her robe and stroked her body, knowing just where to touch to arouse her.

  “Oh, God, I want you too much to say no to you.” Frustrated by the thick fabric, he yanked it off and carried her to his bed where he made love to her again and again, each time as fervently and as passionately as she’d dreamed of him doing.

  He did everything he could to please her, and he was everything she had ever wanted or imagined a perfect lover would be.

  If only he could be as good for her in other ways, she thought afterward as she lay in the dark beside him. She’d say yes to him, stay with him and tell him about the baby. Maybe their affair would turn into something meaningful.

  With an effort she reminded herself that he cared about one thing only—money.

  Funny that he should despise her because he thought she was the same.

  * * *

  It was hard to concentrate on packing with him standing over her, his black gaze watching her every movement. He sipped steaming black coffee she’d brewed for him from a porcelain mug.

  “I know it’s smart for both of us to end it, but I don’t want you to go.” His tone was that of a command. “I don’t want it to be over. You know that.”

  When she looked up, his eyes were so hot her tummy turned over. The long night of sex had left her tender both physically and emotionally. She couldn’t look at him without feeling too much.

  As always he was devastatingly handsome in an impeccably tailored three-piece suit he’d put on for his important meeting this morning. He was dazzling. Would their child be equally so?

  “I’ll miss you, too.” Her voice was choked.

  Last night in his arms, she’d been so happy, felt so cherished.

  She would miss him. Too much. More than was sensible. So what else was new? Angrily she threw a blouse toward her duffel bag.

  She had to do this.

  Had he ever once told her she could matter as a person to him? No. If she thought there was any hope—any hope at all—that he could ever see her for who she was or really care about her, maybe she would have agreed to the abysmal, degrading terms of his affair on the slight possibility she could make him so happy he would change his mind about her over time.

  But he was absolutely incapable of being the kind of man she needed in her life, and he could never trust her to be the right woman for him. So why prolong a relationship that wouldn’t work?

  Because it works in bed, said a sneaky little voice inside her. Be fair. Not just in bed. Remember how he was last night at dinner? He deliberately took you somewhere special. He was kind when he tended your foot, too, and protective when he slept all night in that awful chair watching over you.

  Remembering everything he’d done to her last night and how she’d reveled in the expertise of his mouth and tongue on all her intimate body parts, she colored.

  They’d had last night. Nobody could ever take that away from her.

  “Why won’t you move in with me permanently?”

  “I need my own place where I can be me and have my friends over.”

  “You can have whoever the hell you want here.”

  “Are you kidding? In this stuffy co-op on Fifth Avenue? Your doorman rolls his eyes every time I walk into the building. I value my independence. And you value yours.”

  “To hell with my independence. I want you.”

  “For sex.”

  “I don’t deny it.”

  “That’s not enough. If I stayed, I wouldn’t respect myself.”

  “Why the hell not? This is the twenty-first century.”

  “Because to you, our relationship would just be another business arrangement. Everything is a deal to you. You pay—I continue to sleep over, only in your bed. It’s as simple as that.”

  “No. That’s not how it would be.” But he spoke sheepishly.

  “Isn’t it? You don’t want a real relationship with me based on respect and trust, and I don’t want to be with a man who doesn’t really like me.”

  He changed tack. “But you do admit that you enjoy me...as much as I enjoy you?”

  Again she blushed. “That’s hardly the point. You think all I’ve ever wanted from you and your family is money.”

  “Well, I know you like me in bed, so maybe not all.”

  “See!”

  “What do you mean, see? Okay, I didn’t want to mention this, but since you’re forcing the issue, I know that you had my brother set up a million-dollar trust fund for you and your baby. And that you got him to sign it over to you on the day he married you.”

  “I got him to sign it over to me?”

  “You heard me! Do you deny you signed documents to claim those monies on your wedding day?”

  “Get out! Go to work! Go to your precious meeting! This is what you’ve been thinking about me all week...and last night when we were making love? A hibernating snake in a frozen hole in the dead of winter has a warmer heart than you do.”

  “I’d be a fool if I refused to face facts.”

  “I don’t want to sleep with a man who always thinks the worst of me. What can’t you understand about that? You’ll never change. I’m glad you brought this up because now I can leave here without c
aring if I ever see you again!”

  Tears stung her eyes, but she didn’t want to cry. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was hurting her. Why couldn’t he have just asked her about the documents? Why did he always assume the worst?

  “Did you or did you not sign them the day you married my brother?” he demanded.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’ve got that part right. I signed them.”

  When a single tear tracked down her cheek she scrubbed at it furiously with her fist and turned away.

  “But it didn’t happen like you said, Michael!” she blurted out through strangled sobs. “Or for the reasons you think. I swear it didn’t! But did you ask me for the truth? Ever? No!”

  “I’m asking now, and you’re telling me not to believe what I’ve seen with my own eyes—which is your damn signature on a dated document. On your wedding day!”

  It had all been Will’s idea. Not hers. He’d feared his brother wouldn’t do the right thing for her or his child.

  But would Michael believe that?

  “I’m not what you think, but I’m past caring about your opinion of me. I’m through talking to you, through trying to explain myself. It’s hopeless to try to change your mind because you want to believe the worst. I wish I’d never met you, wish I’d never slept with you. I don’t want to ever see you again! Not for as long as I live! I don’t want you in my baby’s life either—because I want him to grow up with a trusting heart, which is something you’ll never have!”

  He went white, absolutely white.

  “If you change your mind, call me,” he said in a voice that was like ice. “Because I want you, no matter who you are, no matter what you’ve done.”

  Every time he said that, he carved out a little piece of her.

  When he turned and strode out of the room, she lunged at her duffel on the bed and heaved it onto the floor, spilling her clothes everywhere.

  Nine

  Michael looked so lost, haunted and alone as he stood by his brother’s urn. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. It was all she could do not to rush to him and put her arms around him.

  She was such a wuss. Was it only two days ago that she’d told Michael she never wanted to see him again?

  For the past forty-eight hours she’d missed him horribly. The raw agony in his face when his eyes sought hers compelled her for an interminable second or two. He’d loved his brother deeply.

  In that long moment when neither could tear their eyes from the other, she shared his all-consuming grief. Maybe that was all they could ever share.

  Besides the baby she was too afraid to tell him about.

  Whatever faults Michael had, he’d loved Will and was grieving now. She wanted to go to him, to thread her fingers through his, to pull him close and say comforting words in the hope that she could ease that pain.

  What if she told him they were going to have a child, that Will had only married her to protect Michael’s future child? Would that ease some of his conflict and grief? Or would it add fresh torment since he despised her and believed the baby to be a part of Will?

  He was so alone. Maybe Michael had money, but he’d lacked love when he’d needed it most. And the lack had hardened him. Only Will had seen Michael’s faults and loved him anyway. Now Michael had to say goodbye to the one person who’d loved him.

  When the preacher introduced Michael, he stepped up to the podium and began to speak, his deep voice filling the sanctuary. The words he chose to celebrate his brother’s life were so eloquent, they resonated inside her. Hot tears filled her eyes. Her heart ached for him. Soon everybody around her was sniffing and sobbing, too.

  Funny that such a heartless man knew exactly what to say to touch so many. If he could speak like that and love that deeply, why couldn’t he love her and their child?

  When her tears threatened to fall, she brushed them away. Will was dead. Michael was who he was. She couldn’t help him or change him. She had to say goodbye to both brothers, keep her secret and move on.

  After the service, when the family stood beside the urn receiving mourners, a middle-aged woman with hard gray eyes and a thin, pursed mouth pointed her silver-handled cane at Bree.

  “You! I’ve been wanting to have my say,” the woman said. “Michael told me that you were pregnant and injured. But here you are—looking fit as a fiddle.”

  Suddenly Michael, his face grim, materialized beside Bree. Not that he greeted her by word or smile. He was just there, shielding her from the older woman like a protective force field.

  When the woman’s brows knitted, Michael’s hand touched Bree’s elbow

  “I saw her watching you during the service, so don’t think I don’t see how it is between you two,” the woman said. “She didn’t love Will. If either of you think I believe for one minute she had a real marriage with my nephew or that her baby is his...”

  Bree reeled.

  “Not here, Alice,” Michael warned in a voice of steel.

  “You can’t stop me, Michael. You’re as greedy as she is. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn you set some sort of trap for Will and used her for bait.”

  “Don’t be absurd,” Michael said. “Leave her alone.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do, and I’ll sue you again if you try.”

  His fingers tightened protectively on Bree’s elbow. Drawing her closer, he gave Alice a warning look that was so fierce the woman squinted and backed away.

  “Thank you,” Bree said stiffly as Alice fled down the aisle.

  “I told you...the family can be difficult,” he murmured. “She was equally cruel to my mother.”

  Thankfully the next person to approach them was a lovely older woman with silver hair who was dressed in soft grays and blues.

  She clasped Bree’s hand. “I’ve wanted to call you and tell you how sorry I am about Will, but I just couldn’t work up the strength...until now. I’m Mrs. Ferrar, Tony’s mother.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Ferrar. So very sorry,” Bree said.

  “I know you are. Tony told me how much you and your child meant to Will.” Her kind, sympathetic blue eyes shifted to Michael. “He told me how much you meant to Will, too, Mr. North. I know you will take good care of Bree and her precious baby. Will would want that.”

  Mrs. Ferrar opened her arms, and Bree stepped into them. “There...there... That’s right. Give me a big hug. Tony’s service will be tomorrow. I sure hope you’ll come. I don’t know how I’ll get through it if people like you, people who knew Tony, aren’t with me.”

  “I will be there,” Bree promised. “Again, I’m so sorry.”

  “I’ve been cleaning out their apartment, sorting through Tony’s things. You two will have to do that for Will. The landlord told me he already has a new tenant, so he’s willing to forgive their lease. So, the sooner, the better.”

  “We’ll take care of it, Mrs. Ferrar,” Michael said.

  We’ll...

  “I’ll miss them both,” Mrs. Ferrar said, “and so will you. Some days are going to be hard for you...really, really hard. But when that happens, you think about your precious baby. I have young grandchildren. And they’re so full of life, just their pictures on my fridge are enough to cheer me up. I’ll do all right.”

  Despite the sorrowful occasion, Mrs. Ferrar’s warmth cheered Bree. In the future, whenever she became sad or confused, she needed to focus on her baby.

  “Mr. North, I want a hug from you, too. Such a shame you never got to meet my Tony. I told Will, and more than once, I was sure you’d like him.”

  “I’m sure of it, too,” Michael said, but the new questions in his eyes when he regarded Bree made her swallow hard.

  How long would it be before he figured out the truth? The
whole truth?

  * * *

  Michael locked his Mercedes, crossed the street and strode to his brother’s building. After an endless week of bleak days and nights grieving for Will without seeing or talking to Bree, he couldn’t believe she’d actually taken a phone call from him and agreed to meet him at Will’s apartment today. He had Bijou to thank for that, he supposed—Bijou, whom he’d bribed with flattery and with dozens of red roses.

  Unsure about the reception he’d receive from her daughter, he felt on edge riding up to Will’s floor in the tiny elevator.

  If the past seven days without Bree had felt like an eternity, what would a lifetime without her be like?

  He had it bad. He couldn’t sleep, and food, no matter how expensive or how beautifully presented, tasted like cardboard. Even work failed to distract him.

  He wanted her. And not just in his bed.

  He wanted to talk to her, to look forward to her company at night when he came home. He wanted to make love to her. But he wanted more than all that—so much more. He wanted her companionship and affection, her adoration. She’d adored him that first night—before he’d come clean and ripped her heart open. He wanted her eyes to shine when she looked at him again.

  Last week he’d screwed up a major deal because his mind had been on Bree. Since he hadn’t pushed ruthlessly enough, he would have to look for new financing for the deal. He needed to go to Shanghai to sort out a mess over there, but he couldn’t make himself get on a plane because he didn’t want to leave New York with their relationship unresolved.

  Why did he feel so lost and alienated with her out of his life?

  Because of his illogical need for her, he felt resentment toward her. Had she suffered at all?

  Probably not, he thought. Then his heart leaped when he unlocked his brother’s door, stepped into the apartment and heard her singing an aria from Carmen. She was a little off-key maybe, but not too bad. Hell—off-key or not, the music was charming. She sounded happy.

  She was probably thriving without him. And who could blame her?

  “Hello!” he yelled, not wanting to follow that train of thought.