Front Page Affair (13 page)

T
HE
piercing whistle of steam escaping the kettle was broken by the repetitive buzz of her security intercom. She turned off the gas and dashed down the hall. “Hello?”

“It's Nate. Let me up.”

She stared blankly at the little white box mounted on her wall. Too soon. She was supposed to have hours more. He couldn't be here already.

Then brain function kicked in and she pushed the “entry” button and swung open the front door. Nate, taking the stairs two at a time, rounded her landing in a matter of seconds. He looked tired and impatient and more handsome than any man had a right to be as he strode to her door, taking in the length of her in a sweeping head-to-toe scan that nearly rocked her back with its intensity. For one precious heartbeat, she thought he'd come for them. That he'd realized he loved her, too. That he missed her enough he couldn't stay away—

“What's wrong?” he demanded, pushing into her apartment.

She stepped aside, closing her eyes before Nate could catch the disappointment there. Obviously, Deborah had spoken to him. She'd suspected it would happen and even turned the phone to voice mail in anticipation of a call, but she hadn't expected him to show up at her door in less than an hour's time. She wasn't prepared to face him yet, only Nate caught
her arm, his hold gentle but firm as he forced her to meet his stare. “What's wrong?” he asked more urgently.

I'm pregnant.

It was the simple answer. And yet she couldn't make herself say the words. Not yet.

This much she'd decided.

“I'm sorry, I was going to call. You didn't need to rush over—”

Nate's brows drew down. His mouth pinching flat for a beat. “Deborah told me you'd been standing outside the building…crying. I cancelled my afternoon to come over here so don't give me the runaround.”

Wincing at the cut of his sharp tone, she took a bracing breath. “I was thinking about us.”

She half expected him to check his watch, see if he could make it back to the office to finish up one of those meetings after all. But he held steady, if not somewhat wary. “Us?”

Us.
The two of them. The way it had been when they were together, creating the one who would make three. “I miss you.”

Nate raked a hand through his hair, rubbed the back of his head with the rough strokes of a man trying to make sense of something exasperating beyond explanation. “I miss you, too, sweetheart. But we talked about this and decided if there was any chance for us to end up friends down the road…we need to give each other time apart now.”

She knew all that. As the she knew the answer to her next question, too—the only question that mattered, the one that would decide everything—but had to ask it anyway. Had to hear him say the words aloud.

She swallowed and then, aching with a desperate heartfelt need, forced the words past her lips. “Do you love me?”

Her breath held, painful and hope-swollen within her chest
as she watched his eyes widen, felt the lingering caress of his gaze as it stroked over her cheeks, lips and eyes.

Please
, she begged with every part of her heart, body and soul.

And when he didn't answer, she couldn't stop herself from saying more. Adding to her plea, her heartbreak and humiliation. “What we had was good.” He couldn't have forgotten. “I miss it. I miss you.” Maybe all he needed was to know. “And I thought after you've had some time away.” She had to try. “Some space.” Give him every chance. “That you might—”

“Payton, stop. Don't do this to yourself.” It was blunt and cruel. But he couldn't stand the idea of prolonging her questions or suffering any longer. “Nothing's changed. And it won't.”

Payton banded her arms over her slim waist and nodded. Stiff. “Okay,” she whispered on a catch of breath that left him wrecked. She shook her head, the slight motion freeing a solitary tear to escape down the delicate slope of her cheek. “That's what I needed to know.”

Damn it, this wasn't how he wanted it to go.

He wanted the fantasy they'd talked about those few months ago. The scenario where the passion between them died a natural death, going peacefully in its sleep some night, months and months from now. The deal where they woke to the friendship that had always been there.

Where, when he saw her crying, reaching out to touch her wouldn't just make it worse for both of them.

Her head fell forward into the cradle of her palm and she let out a shuddering breath he felt through his entire being. His fists clenched, once. Twice, before he physically couldn't stand to let her suffer there alone and reached for her—

“I'm pregnant.”

His hand dropped to his side as the air left his lungs in a painful whoosh.

Time stood still and, paralyzed, helpless to stop it, he felt the foundation of his world begin to slide beneath his feet.

No.

This couldn't be happening. Not again. It was impossible—except the defeated set to Payton's shoulders told him it wasn't.

She turned her head in profile, not quite meeting his eyes, and whispered, “I'm so sorry.”

Quietly she walked from the room, leaving him to absorb the truth of the situation. She was pregnant.

Alone, Nate walked to the window, stared at the rain beating down on the glass and wondered how after so little time he'd found himself brought full circle. And with the very woman he'd thought would help him leave the nightmare behind.

Ironic.

Fate's little way of giving him the finger, he supposed.

The suspicions that had plagued him from the first minutes following Annegret's teary pregnancy confession lurked in the shadows of his memory, daring him to revisit them. But to all those dark scenarios came the same resounding, “No.” This wasn't some mercenary fortune hunter coming to him pregnant. It was Payton. So good even when she wanted to be bad, Payton. If she said there was a baby, there was. And without question it was his.

He shook his head, stunned. How could the entire world change in less than an hour? That was all it had been since Deborah called his direct line from her lunch break. She'd found Payton shaking in the cold outside his building, her red-rimmed eyes looking lost and scared. He'd raced to her apartment, unable to maintain the distance they'd discussed for fear something had happened.

But she'd looked fine when he arrived and he'd been angry
he'd had to see her. Had to see the hurt in her eyes when he didn't want to think about her hurting at all.

He'd wanted her to go away. Find someone else. Forget about him.

Only she hadn't been as fine as he'd thought, and now her going away was no longer an option. She'd never find the life she deserved and he was angry all over again.

How the hell could it have happened? The way he'd been going through condoms while they were together, he should have bought stock in the company. He'd been in charge of the protection and they'd used it every time—except that once.

His gut clenched, guilt working its way up his throat like bile.

He'd stopped before he'd come, found a condom and then returned to finish what he'd started. But unprotected penetration of any kind could result in pregnancy. And he'd been so damn careless. Even after everything he'd been through. Even knowing better.

He'd done this to them.

Eyes fixed on the gray-washed day beyond the glass, he pulled his phone from his pocket and brushed a thumb across the screen to bring up Deborah.

“I need you to get Arnie on the line for me. And then see what it takes to get married in Illinois.”

P
AYTON
sat at the kitchen table, her gaze fixed on the cooling mug of tea between her palms. She'd left Nate in the living room nearly a half-hour before. After a time, she'd heard the baritone clip of his voice as he began making calls. Then a moment ago silence resumed.

The hardwood groaned its quiet protest under the weight of his approach and then Nate's dark form filled the doorway. Arms braced against the frame like a looming threat, he pressed into the room without entering.

“I found out this morning at my doctor's,” she volunteered, figuring it as good a place to start as any.

Concern furrowed his brow. “Are you okay?”

It didn't surprise her; there'd never been a question of caring. Only of degree.

“Yes. It was time for my annual and I'd mentioned getting on the pill when I booked the appointment. One thing led to another and then…I knew.” She picked up the mug and took a lukewarm sip, wishing for the soothing relief the picture on the box promised. “It happened within that first week or two.”

Nate shouldered through the door and dropped into the seat across the table, meeting her eyes for the first time since she'd told him she was pregnant. The cold acceptance in his gaze should have hurt, but the pain was gone—replaced by
a hollow kind of numb that had taken hold after she'd ripped her soul open, exposing the most tender, vulnerable part of herself to him. Begging him to love her. The blissful void of emotion wouldn't last, but she'd savor every moment while it did.

He reached across the table and wrapped his fingers around hers in a hold that felt stiff, uncomfortably dutiful. “Do you have a doctor? An OB for the pregnancy?”

She shook her head. Noted the lines deepening across his forehead and around his mouth.

His voice lowered, taking on a hard edge she could hear him fighting. “But you
are
getting one.”

Then she understood what he was asking—if she planned to keep their child. “I've known about the baby for less than one day, Nate. The fact that I haven't gotten a doctor yet doesn't mean anything except that I need to do some research before selecting one.”

His eyes cleared with relief. “I'm sorry, I just—” He shook his head and blew out a strained breath. “It's important. I have to ask certain things.”

She nodded, her neck sore from the tension that had gripped her hours ago.

“I'm meeting with Arnie tomorrow about changing my will and drawing up a prenuptial agreement for us.”

Payton fought an empty smile, noting his subtle pairing of death and marriage. Her mouth opened to set him straight, but he had his hand out, ready to cut her off.

“You know I'm going to be fair. The details are flexible, but I'm non-negotiable on the point of the agreement itself.”

She couldn't care less about a prenuptial agreement. Because they wouldn't need one.

“I'm not marrying you.” No satisfaction came from the words, only the bone-deep certainty that they were true.

“Don't be like this, Payton. It's important. An agreement will protect us both.”

“Nate, it's not about the prenup.
I'm not marrying you
.”

His eyes narrowed on her. “What are you talking about? You're pregnant. Of course you are.”

“No.”

She saw the moment it clicked for him. When the pieces fell into place and a dark shadow fell across his hardening features. “The questions. You weren't worrying about me stepping up. It was a test. A trap. Making me tell you—” His eyes pinched shut, a vein popping to life along his temple. “Damn it, Payton.”

“I needed to make sure. Before you knew about the baby.”

“Why? So you could back yourself into a corner you can't get out of? Well, forget it. Forget what I said and forget about not marrying me. Everything's different now.”

“Not everything.” Their eyes clashed, held. Hers telling him she wouldn't back down. His begging to differ.

“You aren't thinking straight,” he said levelly, his body language conveying all the confidence in the world that she'd see it his way. But she was onto his manipulative tactics.

Fat chance.

“You're a smart woman. All you need is some rest and a little perspective in the morning. We'll get you something to eat. Do you have any cravings? I'll have anything you want here inside thirty minutes.”

“Nate, stop—”

“
No.
We'll get you some dinner and we'll go to bed. With you in my arms…and our baby inside you.”

Her breath caught as a wave of emotion crashed through her, so intense her throat seized and her vision swam. And like that, the bliss of numb was torn away, leaving her raw and trembling. “I said stop!”

“I'm not stopping!” he snapped, those blue eyes she'd once been foolish enough to call arctic blazing at her. “Not until you see reason on this.”

“Reason?” She was on her feet then, glaring at him across the table. “Give me a break. You go from assuring me there's
no chance
for a future with us to offering up the rest of your life—complete with a gold band and handy prenup—within the span of thirty minutes. Who's not being reasonable?”

“We're going to have a baby. A child between us. It changes things. I'm adapting.”

“Then you better find another way to do it, Nate, because I'm not marrying you. There's no love—no emotion behind your proposal and I don't want to live the rest of my life as an obligation.”

“That's not how it would be.” A harsh breath followed as he threw one hand up in question. “I don't see why you're fighting this.
You're getting what you wanted.
”

“Like hell I am!” How could he even think that?

He watched her. Waited a beat as though assessing the situation before replying. Slowly, so she wouldn't miss even one word. “
Like hell you won't
. I'll make you happy. You know I can.” The muscle in his jaw jumped. “You said it yourself—we get along great together. We have fun.”

“I want more than fun, Nate.”

Exasperation shot up his brows. “And I'm offering it.”

Not even close. “Can you deny that an hour ago the idea of this future you're asking me to share with you didn't have you running in the other direction?”

“An hour ago I thought I had a choice!”

Mistake. Payton's frame shook as though he'd struck her.

Too late, he saw his error. Damn it, he was blowing this, but she wasn't giving in!

“I'm sorry.” Rounding the table, he pulled her into his arms
and shifted them both back into the chair so she rested in his lap. “That's not what I meant.”

“Yes, it is,” she whispered, pressing her face into his chest so her soft curls spilled over him.

His arms tightened over shoulders that had never seemed so slight before. The hammering in his chest eased and for a moment they sat quietly together. And then she drew back, peering up at him, with those big brown eyes, liquid and pleading. “Nate, can't you understand that I don't want to take a lifetime of choices from you? That maybe I don't want you to take them from me?”

He understood it, all right. And was more sorry than he could have imagined possible. He knew what she was going through. Knew the feeling of betrayal that had to be welling inside of her. He'd tasted that bitterness, knew firsthand the threat of someone taking the life he'd planned. Only this time, Nate's carelessness had been the culprit to take Payton's choices and no test six months from now could set her free.

Damn it, he hadn't wanted to take anything away from her. It was the reason he ended things between them. He'd wanted her to be able to move on and find the man who would care for her the way she needed, wholly, without reservation. Only with those two uttered words, “I'm pregnant,” that man became him.

Unlike with Annegret, there wasn't a single doubt in his mind. This baby was his—which meant so was Payton. And getting her to accept that was the first priority.

Fundamentally, he understood the problem. Payton had had a mere handful of hours to come to terms with the fact her life had changed immediately and irrevocably. Whereas, he'd been through this before—had months to contemplate his sense of priorities and values as they applied to a child entering his life. He'd known then what he would do, as he knew now.

He'd make a family. Make them whole.

“I understand, Payton. I do. But everything is different now that there's a baby. We're bound together for the rest of our lives through the child inside you.”

“I'm not arguing that, but it doesn't mean we have to get married. You know I would never keep you from seeing him.”

Him.
She thought it would be a boy. He closed his eyes, pushing back the images that one word conjured. Visions he wasn't yet ready to face. “No. You won't. Because we'll be together. All of us.”

She tried to stand, but he held her in place. Close to him, where she belonged.

“Nate, what you're suggesting is—”

“Important.”

“Impossible. There are all kinds of families. People with situations much more convoluted than ours make it work without being married.”

He shook his head, cupped her chin in his palm. “It won't work for me if I miss out on half of my child's life because I don't live with him.”

Payton wanted to shove against his chest and scream her frustration, but the stress of the day had taken its toll and sapped the little energy she'd begun with. Now all she could do was whisper her protest. “I can't.”

“I know you're scared, sweetheart. But I swear you don't have to be. We'll work this out. It doesn't have to happen tonight.”

“No. It doesn't.” They both needed some time to get used to the idea. Figure out how they really felt. What they wanted.

Nate would see.

“Have you told anyone yet?”

She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't. Not for a while.”

She pulled back, searching his face for some sign of why, but all she saw was a man closed down and unavailable to her.

A sudden anxiety rose within her. Had he started to see someone else? Her stomach hollowed. Was there a woman he needed to tell? To give up—

“My dad. After what happened with Annegret—all the uncertainty. I'd rather wait to tell him about the pregnancy until we've sorted more of the details out ourselves.”

His father. She should have realized.

“Of course. I won't say anything,” she promised, the threat of tears leaving her voice unsteady.

Why couldn't he just love her? Why couldn't he have told her there was a chance for them? That walking away from what they'd had was tearing him apart? Given her
anything
to pin her hopes on so now she could take his reassurances and promises and wrap herself tight in them. Why did she have to know that an hour ago he still hadn't wanted her?

To that last, she reminded herself the answer was simple. She'd made him tell her. Because signing on to a loveless marriage wasn't something she could live with. Or perhaps it was. But a marriage where
she loved Nate
and he didn't love her? No. That would be a daily heartbreak she couldn't endure. So she'd demanded the truth.

Nate's wide hand gathered her hair at the nape of her neck, stroked over the mass of it as he pulled her close. “We'll work it out, sweetheart. I promise.”

Too weary to do anything else, she gave into the comfort of a hold she'd never wanted to give up—from a man who didn't love her.