Her insides quivered as his meaning settled around her shoulders then began to strangle her at the neck. “But if I don’t, you’ll take her anyway?”
His eyes swept shut and he breathed in, so deep that his chest shifted forward, brushing her body. She felt the contact through the silk of her robe and had to tamp down on a totally inappropriate flush of desire.
“I want us to give her a family,” he said finally. “I want you to choose that.”
“But if I don’t, you’ll take her, right?”
His jaw clenched. “I want her in my life.”
“I just need you to say it. I think that ultimatums like you’re delivering need to be voiced, because implying you’ll take my daughter away is different to baldly stating it. And that’s what you’re suggesting you’ll do, if I don’t marry you. So just say it. I need to hear the words. I need to know you’re capable of making that threat.”
His eyes were dull. “Is that so much worse than actually taking her, as you did to me?”
She took a step backwards but his hand caught her wrist, his thumb gently padding over the inner-flesh there.
“I don’t want to take her away from you, Abby. If I did, I would. Believe me, I could, just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “I could have had Charlotte in the UK by now, if that was my wish. I’m trying to work this out together. I’m trying to be reasonable, by offering to move to New York. I want this to work, for all of us.”
Tears formed a salty film on her eyes. Beyond her hurt and surprise, she could truly see that he was offering a compromise. But at the forefront of her mind was the feeling that she was being threatened with the most dreadful thing in her world: losing Charlotte.
“I won’t let you take her from me.”
“I just said that’s not what I want to do.”
“But youwoulddo it.”
A muscle jerked in his jaw. “That’s your decision.”
She made a low, guttural groaning noise. “You really are some kind of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. How can you spend the night making love to me then this morning threatening me?”
“Last night was sex,” he said with a calm tone to his voice. “That’s always worked between us. And I am not threatening you. I’m discussing the options here.”
“But any option other than marrying you results in me losing Charlotte, right?”
“Please don’t think I want to be in this position, Abby.”
She angled her face away from his, her heart thunderous in her chest. “I need to think.”
He refrained from telling her to think fast, but she felt it. She heard it in her mind and heart, and she had to admit, to herself at least, that she already knew what she would do. What choice did she have? The marriage he was offering would solve myriad problems. Besides, it was what was truly in Charlotte’s best interests. But Abby had to look after her own interests, and to that end, she’d be getting legal advice before she gave Gray any hint of her agreement.
Chapter8
BLOOD WASHED THROUGH HER ears as she lifted Charlotte and Abby held her to her chest. Charlotte smelled like vanilla and flowers, like always. She kissed the top of her head and smiled, despite her growing tension, when Charlotte said, “Mama, mama,” and put her palms on either side of Abby’s face – her way of requesting a kiss.
Abby laughed softly, the sound off-kilter and infused with husky emotion, as she brushed her lips over their daughter’s, then pulled back and smiled over-brightly. “Good morning, Lottie-Bear.” She nuzzled her cheek against Charlotte’s fluffy brown curls then turned, intending to change her diaper before she returned to the lounge room and Gray.
But when she spun towards the change table, it was to see that Gray was standing in the door frame, legs wide apart, as though bracing against an earthquake, eyes focused on both Charlotte and Abby, his expression unreadable. Only his eyes, that fabulous green that shifted to grey and closer to blue depending on his mood, showed that a million emotions were coursing through him.
“This is Charlotte,” Abby said quietly, standing right where she was, holding their daughter tighter, the meaning of this moment something she could never have prepared for.
Being introducedto his fifteen-month-old daughter filled him with a maelstrom of reactions. There was love. Immediate, instant love. She was so instantly familiar to him, he recognized himself, his sister, his mother, his niece and Abby in her delicate features, her dark eyes, the mop of silky curls on the top of her head, the shape of her eyes, even the cautious way she appraised him was familiar. He felt as though a line had formed from his heart to Charlotte’s and in that second, he came face to face with the worst of his fears, head on.
How could he protect her? How could he keep her safe? What would he do if anything happened to her? He loved her – and he’d fought loving anyone for so long it was as second-nature to Gray as breathing. But he loved Charlotte, and that was terrifying and onerous, so the weight seemed to push down on his shoulders, making moving impossible for a moment. All he could do was stare at her, this little person, a part of him, and acknowledge that he would die for her, in an instant.
The ground shifted beneath his feet. He hadn’t wanted this. He’d never wanted to burden of being someone’s parent, and he’d never wanted to experience the kind of loss he’d witnessed daily in Iraq, but the situation was not something he had a say in. Charlotte was here, his daughter, and there was only one solution.
He stepped into the tiny space, ignoring Abby in that moment, because the feelings of love he felt for Charlotte were complicated by darkness and anger towards her for keeping Charlotte from him. Even when he could understand Abby’s choice and credit her decision with good – if misguided – intentions. He knew she’d done what she thought was best. But those were logical, rational thoughts and anger was not.
“May I hold her?”