Now that he thought about it, with his growing knowledge of her, outright ridicule—the one reaction he’d left out of the possibilities—should have been the only one he expected. And he should be relieved.
He wasn’t.
He had no idea why he wasn’t. He no longer knew anything. Not how he felt, or how to deal with the discoveries that had decimated his every meticulously constructed concept of himself, uprooted every ironed-out-to-the-last-detail strategy of his life.
So here he was, doing what he hadn’t done since he was twelve. Jumping without a plan, let alone a backup. Improvising. Because for the first time, he could see no other viable option.
He finally exhaled. “It’s probably a mixture of both.”
Her gaze wavered. She hadn’t thought he’d admit to either charge, let alone both, and that willingly?
Before he could be sure of his analysis, steely challenge flooded back into her expression. “So, I’ll spell out the question you’re asking yourself. What the hell do you think you’re doing, Sarantos?”
His lips twitched at the baiting in her gaze, even as something there compressed his chest over what felt like thorns. A white-hot kernel of affront? Of fury? Of…hurt?
No. He’d just admitted his perception was on the fritz. It might have always been where she was concerned. He should no longer try to fathom her or himself. He should let this play out, take him where it would. He’d help it along with the one thing that he had to contribute now. Straightforwardness.
He emptied his gaze of all but seriousness. “I’m doing what I have to do. I’m asking you to marry me.”
Flames of that elusive expression flared, raged higher. His chest began to burn. Then she seemed to douse them with an act of pure will, smirked. “There he goes again. Okay, let me get this straight, Sarantos. You’re going for your most unpredictable by being predictable for once? You’re offering to ‘marry me’ because I ‘had your son,’ just like any dutiful male would? How quaint.”
This was serious. This confrontation was not going according to any unformed fears he might have come here harboring. But he couldn’t help it.
Her belittling barbs penetrated right to his humor centers, tripped their wires.
His lips spread. “You make it sound as if I’m a different species.”
Something heavy and hot entered her gaze, made the tightness travel lower in his body. It was uncanny, unprecedented, how she took control of his body with a look. That particular look now grew antagonistic.
“You know you are a different species, Sarantos,” she muttered. “Trying on the conformities of a member of the common herd doesn’t suit you.”
He exhaled. “Not conforming was a luxury I availed myself of for the past twenty-five years. Under the circumstances, I can no longer afford it.”
Her gaze hardened with each word out of his mouth. “Do you even hear yourself? Just yesterday you were offering the ultimate form of disconnection in human liaisons. Then you discover Alex and switch to proposing the ultimate form of entanglement, the stuck-till-death kind of situation, or the type of mistake with escalating consequences.”
His gaze stilled. Did that mean she had as dismal a view of marriage as he’d always held?
Neither his beliefs nor hers were the issue here. They both had another—Alex—to consider now.
He nodded. “I am aware of the discrepancy. But the givens of the situation have changed diametrically since.”
She exhaled her impatience. “It seems I have to repeat what I said last night, in a clearer way. You have nothing to do with Alex or me. There’s no duty or right thing to do involved here.”
“If I didn’t believe there’s all of that and more involved, I wouldn’t be here today.”
She seemed at a loss for words. Then she rasped, “I’ll make it clearer still. An offer of marriage for a baby’s sake means you’re applying for the positions of husband and father. In which parallel universe are you husband and father material, Sarantos?”
Silence seemed to explode in the wake of her bluntness. An evaluation, an exposure he wasn’t about to contest.
Not that she was giving him the chance to waste her time with protests when she’d long made up her mind about him. “You’re not any known human relationship material, either. Even with your siblings, you have the most perfect example of nonrelationships.”
He wasn’t about to contest that truth, either.
He let his no-contest count as an admission, went on to make his point, the only one to be made here. “I may well be the last man on earth to qualify for either role, but that doesn’t change the facts. You had my child. A child I owe my name and support. I owe you that, too.”
She hooted in pure denigration. “Whoa. At least no one can accuse you of spouting sentimental embellishments. Tell you what. The ‘child’ and I will take a rain check on whatever you believe you owe us. In this life. Let’s take this up again in another. We’re both fine for this one, thank you.”
“Being ‘fine’ isn’t a reason not to accept my support and protection, to benefit from my status and wealth.”
“I say it’s the perfect reason not to. I don’t need support and protection, and I have status and wealth, and so will Alex. What else do you have to offer us?”
Everything stilled inside him at the lethal conciseness of her question. She always managed to take truth to its most abrading foundations.
And he had to offer her the same level of brutal frankness.
“I have no idea,” he said. “Probably nothing.”
Another silence crackled in the wake of his admission.
Then her lips made a luscious twist of cynical certainty. “There you go. And thank you for not pulling punches. It saves us from wading through false sentiments and promises, which have no place between us.”
The oppressive tightness in his center, what always signaled things spiraling out of control, heightened.
He shook it off, countered, “I do think so, too, if for an opposite reason. It’s exaggerated expectations that destroy any endeavor, personal or professional. I am offering you the absolute truth, so you’ll know for certain what I’m offering.”
“But you are not sure what you’re offering,” she shot back.
“Besides everything you claim not to need, no, I’m not sure,” he said. “But honesty trumps false security every time.”