She understood why he needed to do this. He wasn’t trying to take her independence away from her. She understood that now too. This was about protecting her, the way his mother had not been protected by his father.
But it was still hard for her to contemplate putting her life into his hands, however temporarily—it had been so long since she’d been able to trust anyone with her well-being. She’d always relied on herself. And, okay, maybe she had taken some foolish risks, working long hours for minimal pay. But she wasn’t fragile.
He tucked a knuckle under her chin and lifted her gaze. ‘There is no shame in needing support,’ he said.
Her lips quirked. Did he realise how ironic that sounded coming from him, a man she suspected had made a point of never needing anyone’s support?
‘What is funny about this?’ He frowned, the prickly frustration back. But this time she could see his temper was simply a mask for his deeper feelings—feelings that compelled him to do whatever it took to be a better man than his father.
She shook her head. ‘Nothing, really,’ she said, her thoughts sobering. ‘Why couldn’t I just come to live in Burgundy until the baby is born? We really don’t need to be married.’
‘Yes, we do,’ he said in that dictatorial tone she had come to recognise. But somehow, this time, she could hear the emotion behind the command. ‘I do not want my child born without a father,’ he added. ‘If you will agree to marry me, we can work out an arrangement that will satisfy us both. I would need you to sign a prenuptial agreement, so that we can dissolve the marriage as soon as the baby is born with the minimum of fuss.’
She tried not to let the thought sadden her that this marriage—if she agreed to it—would already have a sell-by date. Surely that would be in her best interests, as well as his? Ultimately the marriage wasn’t important in itself, what mattered was that while she was living in his home, and preparing to bear his child, he would have the chance to come to terms with the reality of his role in its life. And perhaps overcome his objections to being its father in more than just name only.
‘What about... What about custody?’ she asked.
‘A child must stay with its mother,’ he said without hesitation, which had the bubble of desperate hope twisting in her chest. Did he have any intention of seeing the child after its birth?
Don’t despair, Cara, he’s only known about his child for one day—you’ve known about it for months.
‘But I would ask that you allow me to support the child once the marriage is over,’ he added.
Emotion welled in her throat, at the simple and unequivocal statement.
‘Of course,’ she said, determined to give him the time he needed. The truth was she wanted so much more from him for this child than just financial security. She wanted him to forge an emotional connection to it.
At the moment, that was not what he was offering. But surely that could change, if she could break down some of the barriers he had put around his heart? And overcome his fear of fatherhood, which was the hideous legacy of his own childhood. This marriage would give her four precious months to do that...
‘So will you marry me, and come to Burgundy until the child is born?’ The curt demand had a sobering effect.
Was she seriously considering saying yes?
This was a business arrangement for Maxim in many ways. A way for him to discharge his responsibilities to his child, make amends for the wrongs done to his mother and ensure that he was better than his father. And she was fairly certain her reasons for wanting to spend more time with Maxim weren’t nearly as pragmatic.
But surely the chance of giving her child something she had never had—a father, in every sense of the word—was worth the risk?
‘Okay, Maxim,’ she murmured, determined to focus on the hope and not the fear.
She didn’t want to be a coward any more. She’d taken so many crucial decisions away from Maxim with her silence, decisions she couldn’t and wouldn’t change, but this was a decision they could make together. And maybe, just maybe, it could lead to more.
‘I’ll marry you,’ she said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘DO YOU WANT to know the sex of the child?’
Maxim blinked, barely able to register Dr Karim’s question, still stunned by the image on the screen, and the loud, rapid tick coming from the ultrasound equipment, which the obstetrician had informed them was the heartbeat.
It had a head, a face, tiny fingers and toes already forming, its long legs folded up and practically touching its nose. No wonder it kicked so much, it looked cramped in there.
His child. His baby. Not abstract now, but tangible, and real... And so terrifying he was struggling to breathe.
‘Can you tell?’ Cara asked the doctor, breathless and excited. ‘At my last scan they didn’t know.’
‘We just got a very good shot of the genitals,’ the doctor said. ‘So I can say with some degree of certainty. But it’s really up to you if you want to know, or would rather wait.’
‘Maxim? What do you think?’ Cara asked him, her face flushed with pleasure.