He arrived at the lake house late Friday night looking exhausted. The lines around his eyes and mouth seemed deeper. She considered saving her questions for morning, but she couldn’t handle another second of not knowing if he was trying to find a way to gently let her down.
She met him at the door with a stiff drink.
“The perfect wife,” he said as he took the glass. He gave her a brief kiss on the cheek. “You are every man’s dream.”
Eyes narrowed, she tried to figure out if he was being sarcastic. “Am I?”
“Are you fishing for compliments? If so, give me a second to down this whiskey, and I’ll give you a list of your finest qualities.”
“When did you find out your father’s codicil was thrown out?”
His hand froze with the glass halfway to his mouth. With a groan, he set the glass on a nearby table instead of drinking it. “How did you hear about that?”
“Poppy.”
Chase cursed beneath his breath and raked a hand through his thick hair. “I’m going to wring that woman’s neck someday. She just won’t mind her own business.”
“Is it true then? Was the codicil overturned?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders and pulled his tie loose as if it was suddenly strangling him. “What does it matter?”
“It matters to me. When did it happen? Before or after?”
He grabbed his drink and finished it before answering. “You were already pregnant.”
That’s what she was afraid of.
She balled her hands into fists and tried to force them to stop shaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?” When he didn’t answer right away, she said, “Let me guess. You wanted to make sure I wasn’t pregnant first. That’s why you were pressing for me to see a doctor. If I wasn’t pregnant, were you going to back out of our deal?”
He sighed. “What does it matter what I would have done under different circumstances? The fact is, you are carrying my child, and we have a contract.”
“How do you feel about that? Do you still plan to sign over your parental rights?”
She desperately needed to know if he was happy about impending fatherhood or if he was privately cursing his bad luck. Holding her breath, she waited for him to answer. Her inner voice screamed at him to hurry. She just wanted the truth.
“What does it matter how I feel about it? You’re pregnant, and I’m dealing with it, and I will stick to the contract.”
Dealing with it? She gaped at him. How could he be so clueless? She came close to punching him, but held back at the last second. Violence never helped any situation.
“Do you want me to leave?” Did that sound as manipulative to his ears as it sounded to hers? She rephrased. “I mean, I can go to New Yorkbeforethe baby is born, and you can have your old life back. It won’t be a problem. Bianca has been begging me to move.”
Hands on hips, he glared at her. “Are you saying you want a divorce now? That’s not going to work for me. My kid is going to be legitimate. What you do after the birth is up to you, but until then you are staying here.”
That was something, a turn in the right direction. He’d started out hating the idea of a child and had wanted to sign over his parental rights. Now, when he mentioned the baby,my kid, he sounded possessive. He seemed to be changing, maybe growing used to the idea of being a father and not totally hating it.
“What if I don’t want to stay here?” she asked, testing him. Was it just about their child, or did he want her as his wife? Did he have growing feelings for her?
“I repeat, you are not leaving this house until after the baby is born.”
There he went telling her what to do again even though he knew she hated it. Fresh anger flooded her system, and she had to walk away or she was going to say things they both might regret. She went to the kitchen; he followed. Seconds ticked by in silence. She heated up a saucepan of milk in the hope it would help her sleep.
“Do you wantmeto leave?” he asked from the doorway.
“You?”