“I…” She swallowed, surprised by his perceptiveness.
“I feel the same,” he said softly, but with steel to the words. “I don’t want to be an outsider in the child’s life. I don’t want to be an absent father.”
“Well, we live two hours apart,” she said with a shake of her head. “So what do you suggest? Are you going to move to Swan on Green? To set your offices up in the village centre?”
“Of course not.” His eyes darkened. “Obviously I am far too entrenched here. My office, my apartment.”
“So? What then?”
“You will move in with me. And immediately.”
CHA
PTER THREE
“EH, WHAT’S THE MATTER? You’re not eating?” Gianni grinned as he approached the table.
Theo didn’t lift his gaze, and Imogen wasn’t capable of speech, far less of formulating a polite response.
“We just need a moment,” Theo said, keeping his whole entire attention focused on Imogen.
“Ah, okay.” Gianni backed away, but Imogen didn’t realize.
“I think… did you just say…?”
“Move in with me.”
“Okay, I thought that’s what you said. But … it’s absolutely crazy. Lunacy. There’s no way in hell I’m going to pack up my life and come and live in London.”
“Not just in London. With me. In my apartment.”
Her jaw dropped; her brain sparked. “You’re actually suggesting that we move in together? Like … a couple? Because an hour ago, you didn’t even remember my name.”
His lips twisted in acknowledgement of her response. “Nor did I know there was a baby in the picture. But there is, Imogen. We’re going to be parents.” He reached for her hand again, his fingers stroking hers, his eyes searching her, trying to make her understand. “Both of us.” His voice cracked a little and she startled, surprised to see a flood of emotion on his handsome features.
“You want this baby,” she said with a slow nod.
“Well, now that there is a baby on my horizon, yes.” He shook his head, thoughtful now. “There are some people who parent very successfully living apart. But I experienced that first-hand. My parents divorced when I was five. I went from having a father I saw often, regularly, to him barely being in my life. The occasional weekend. A few nights a year. Materially, I had everything I could want, but, at the time, all I wanted was him.” His smile was dismissive, as though wiping away the pain of those memories. “I have no intention of doing that to this child. It is going to know it’s loved and wanted, despite the fact neither of us planned this.”
Tears sparkled on Imogen’s eyelashes. She blinked furiously but one still slid down her cheek, dropping to the seat beside her. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “My emotions are all over the place at the moment.”
“Don’t apologise. It is an emotional conversation to have.” Another tight smile scored across his face.
“I didn’t expect you’d feel this way.” She said quietly, finally reaching for a piece of calamari and lifting it to her lips. It was delicious, but she barely tasted it.
“You barely know me,” he pointed out with a shrug of those shoulders she’d dug her fingernails into.
“No.” She chewed on her lower lip, her teeth digging into the flesh as she evaluated this unexpected turn of events. “And what I do know, I don’t think I particularly like,” she said, knowing that wasn’t quite true. Or was it? Had her heart spoken a truth her mind couldn’t acknowledge?
“When I met you,” he said, cutting to the chase of her concerns. “I was… experimenting with my freedom, shall we say?” His laugh showed at least a hint of embarrassment, which she took to be a good sign, somehow.
“Meaning you were sleeping your way across the country?”
A rueful expression marked his face. “Not intentionally.”
“Great.” She grimaced, unable to hide the hurt in her eyes.
“I was probably not at my best that night, either,” he added, unmistakably droll.