‘That’s got everything to do with it.’
‘I thought you said you didn’t do family.’
‘I don’t. Normally. But you can’t bring up my baby here and you wouldn’t come as my mistress. I had no choice. Now you have no choice.’
She let his slur on her house and what she could provide for a child slide away. She couldn’t tackle everything at once. ‘Did you tell my mother about the baby?’
His hands left the railing as he turned fully to face her. ‘No, but I was left to wonder why you wouldn’t. So now you don’t have to worry about having an illegitimate child. Now your child will have a name and your baby will have a father. You could thank me for taking care of your problem.’
‘Thank you? My problem? Tell me, where does your particular brand of arrogance come from? Did you make it yourself or did you take it over, like just another one of your corporate acquisitions?’
It was his turn to bristle, she noted with considerable satisfaction as he shifted his stance. ‘Do you seriously think I haven’t told my mother yet because I’m worried that she’ll be devastated about me being an unmarried mother?’
‘What else? You don’t seem to realise how much a baby would mean to your mother. How could you not tell her such news?’
‘Don’t you think I know what my own mother needs? You’re the last person who needs to tell me how much she would love to see another grandchild.’
‘So now it’s not an issue. Now you have nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘I never had anything to be ashamed of. For your information, I haven’t told my mother yet because I’m little more than six weeks’ pregnant. Do you understand that?’
‘You mean,’ he interrupted, his face a tight frown, ‘there’s a chance you could be wrong?’
‘No. The pregnancy has been confirmed. But that doesn’t mean things can’t still happen. What if I lose the baby?’
‘Is that likely?’
‘Not likely. But not impossible either. This is still very early days in the pregnancy. The last thing I need is for my mother to get her hopes up and then have them dashed once more. That’s why I haven’t told her yet—not because of some stupid idea that she won’t be happy unless I have someone’s ring on my finger.’
His silence lasted for barely a second and then he shrugged. ‘It’s of no consequence. We’re getting married anyway—it’s all decided. You can hardly let your mother down now.’
‘And if something happens to the baby?’
‘We’ll have another.’
She shook her head. ‘Damien, you’re not listening to me. I never said I’d marry you.’
‘You don’t want marriage? You surprise me. That seemed to be exactly what you wanted this morning. You weren’t satisfied with just my house, my servants, my income. It was clear to me you wanted more.’
‘You can’t just waltz in here and take over this house and this family like it’s one of your business deals. Those kind of tactics might work in the boardroom, but they certainly don’t wash here.’
Immediately she’d mentioned it she wished she could take it back. There was no way she could think about boardrooms without thinking of that night, of the night that had started it all, and with the memories came the heat, heat that was all the more raw after their lovemaking of today. She didn’t need to remember such things now, especially not now, when she was trying to put distance between them, when she was trying to make him see sense.
Her eyes sought his. Damn. They narrowed, a predatory gleam infusing them, and she saw that he’d made the connection. With two quick steps he’d forced her backwards until his arms dropped either side of her and she was trapped.
‘I’m not the only one around here who engages in boardroom tactics—or have you forgotten that first little episode?’
She shook her head as she backed up hard against the railing, fighting the sheer magnetism of his body, the pull of his body increasing with his proximity. ‘No. But it’s not relevant. You can’t just make people do what you want. You can’t just decide for them their future without a thought for their own needs and desires. You can’t—’
Her words were cut off as his arms crushed her to him and his mouth found her throat, sending bold heat suffusing her veins, washing through her on a torrid tide that threatened to blow her resolve, if not her sanity.
His head forced hers back, leaving her neck and throat exposed to his mouth, his lips and tongue working together immediately finding all of those special places—that spot on her neck just below her ear lobe, the line where her skin disappeared under the neckline of her dress. All of her skin, anywhere his mouth touched, came alive and it was impossible to stop her body responding to his assault.