Money Man's Fiancée Negotiation (14 page)

She hadn’t been a great mother, but she had kept Mel safe.

Despite having finally learned that it was socially unacceptable, Mel had been so used to the idea of men hitting that when she’d started seeing Ash she’d always been on guard, waiting for the arm to swing. But after six months or so, when he hadn’t so much as raised his voice to her, she’d realized that he would never hurt her. Not physically anyway.

When she admitted that to Ash, instead of being insulted, he looked profoundly sad. They lay in bed after making love and talked about it. About what her life had been like as a child, how most of her memories were shrouded in fear and insecurity. And as she opened up to him, Ash miraculously began to do the same.

She recalled enough to know that their relationship had never been about love, and that for those three years they had been little more than roommates. Roommates who had sex. She couldn’t help but feel ashamed that she had compromised herself for so long, that she hadn’t insisted on better. But they were in a real relationship now. They had a future. They talked and laughed and spent time together.
They saw movies and had picnics and took walks on the shore. They were a couple.

He didn’t care that her hair was usually a mess and her clothes didn’t cling. Or that she’d stopped going to the gym and lost all those pretty muscles and curves she’d worked so hard to maintain, and now was almost as scrawny as she’d been in high school.
Less is more,
he had said affectionately when she’d complained that she had no hips and her butt had disappeared. He didn’t even miss the push-up bras, although he knew damn well if that had been a prerequisite to the relationship she probably would have walked.

He even forgave her for all the orgasms she had faked, during sex she didn’t want but had anyway, because she was so afraid of disappointing him. And she was humbled to learn that there were many nights when he would have been happy to forgo the sex and watch a movie instead. He made her promise that she would never have sex if she didn’t want to, and she swore to him that she would never fake an orgasm again. He promised that she would never need to, and in the weeks that passed, she didn’t.

Despite all the talking they had done, there was still one thing that they hadn’t discussed, something she had been afraid to bring up. Because as close as they had grown, there was still that little girl inside who was afraid to disappoint him. But she knew she had waited long enough, and one morning at breakfast, over eggs and toast, he gave her the perfect segue.

“Since your memory is almost completely back now, have you considered when you’ll go back to school?” he asked.

She was suddenly so nervous that the juice she was drinking got caught in her throat. It was now or never.

“Not really,” she said, then thought,
Come on, Mel, be
brave. Just tell him the truth.
“The thing is, I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to be a lawyer.”

He shrugged and said, “Okay,” then he took a drink of his juice and went back to eating.

She was so stunned her mouth actually fell open. All that worrying, all the agonizing she had done over this, and all he had to say was
okay?

She set her fork down beside her plate. “Is that it?”

He looked up from the toast he was spreading jam on. “Is what it?”

“I say I don’t want to be a lawyer and all you say is
okay?
”

He shrugged. “What do you want me to say?”

“After you spent all that money on law-school tuition, doesn’t it upset you that I’m just going to throw my education away?”

“Not really. An education isn’t worth much if you aren’t happy in what you’re doing.”

If she had known he would be so understanding she would have told him the truth months and months ago. She thought of all the time she had wasted on a career path that had been going nowhere. If only she’d had the courage to open up to him.

“Do you have any idea what you might want to do?” he asked.

The million-dollar question.

“I think so.”

When she didn’t elaborate he said, “Would you like to tell me?”

She fidgeted with her toast, eyes on her plate. “I was thinking, maybe I can stay home for a while.”

“That’s fine. It isn’t like you
need
to work.”

“Maybe I could do something here, instead of an outside job.”

“Like a home business?”

“Sort of.”
Just say it, Mel. Spit it out.
“But one that involves things like midnight feedings and diaper changes.”

He brow dipped low. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Mel, you know I can’t—”

“I know. I do. But there’s always artificial means. Or even adoption. And I don’t mean right now. I would want us to be married first.” He opened his mouth to say something but she held up a hand to stop him. “I know we haven’t discussed anything definite, or made plans, and I’m not trying to rush things. I swear. I just wanted to sort of…put it out there, you know, to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“I didn’t know you wanted kids.”

“I didn’t either. Not till recently. I always told myself I would never want to put a kid through what I went through. I guess I just assumed I would have a life like my mom’s. It never occurred to me that I would ever meet someone like you.”

A faint smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, but he hid it behind a serious look. “How many kids are we talking about?”

Her heart leaped up and lodged somewhere in her throat. At least he was willing to discuss it. “One or two. Or
maybe
three.”

He raised a brow.

“Or just two.”

After a pause he said, “And this is something you
really
want?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “I really do.”

There was another long pause, and for a second she was afraid he would say no. Not just afraid. She was terrified.
Because this
could
be a deal breaker. She wanted a family. It was all she’d been able to think about lately.

“Well,” he finally said. “I guess one of each would be okay.”

By the time the last word left his mouth she was already around the table and in his lap with her arms around his neck. “Thank you!”

He laughed and hugged her. “But not until we’re married, and you know I don’t want to rush into anything.”

“I know.” They could hardly call three years rushing, but she knew Ash had trust issues. After his own cancer, then losing his mother to the disease, he’d had a hard time letting himself get close to people, then when he finally did, and married his wife, she had betrayed him in the worst way possible.

But Ash had to know by now that she would never do that to him. She loved him, and she knew that he loved her, even if he hadn’t said the words yet.

It was a big step for him, but she knew if she was patient he would come around.

A
sh sat at his desk at work, still smiling to himself about the irony of Mel’s timing. Funny that she would pick today to finally broach the marriage and kids subject, when tonight he planned to take her out for a romantic dinner, followed by a stroll by the water, where, at sunset, he would drop down on one knee and ask her to marry him.

He hoped that if she had even the slightest suspicion of his intentions, he had dispelled that when he pretended not to be sure about wanting kids. Although admittedly, until recently anyway, he hadn’t even considered it. He’d never planned to get tied down again, so it had just naturally never entered his mind. And his ex had never expressed a desire for children.

Now he knew, if they were his and Mel’s, his life would never be complete without them. Natural or adopted.

He opened his top drawer, pulled out the ring box and flipped the top up. It wasn’t as flashy as the ring he’d
given his ex. The stone was smaller and the setting more traditional, but after Mel confessed how much she had disliked the ring for their fake engagement, he knew she would love this one. A sturdy ring, the jeweler had told him, one that would hold up through diaper changes and baby baths and dirty laundry. And with any luck that would be the scene at their condo for the next several years.

There was a knock on his office door. Ash closed the ring box and set it back in his drawer just as Gavin Spencer stuck his head in. “Am I bothering you?”

“Nothing that can’t wait,” Ash said, gesturing him in.

Gavin strode over and sank into the chair opposite Ash’s desk. “It’s getting really weird out there.”

Ash didn’t have to ask what he meant. The mood around the office had been tense for the past couple of weeks. He could only assume it was due in part to the security leaks. It wasn’t openly discussed, but at this point everyone knew.

“That’s why I stay in here,” Ash said.

“You’re lucky you can. You should try working with Logan Emerson.”

“I did notice that he doesn’t exactly seem to fit in.”

“He kind of creeps me out,” Gavin said. “It seems like every time I look up, he’s watching me. Then I caught him in my office the other day. He said he was leaving me a memo.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah. But I could swear the papers on my desk had been moved around. There’s something not quite right with him. There are times when he doesn’t even seem to know what the hell he’s doing. Doesn’t seem like a very smart hire to me. If it were my firm, you could bet I would do things differently.”

But it wasn’t. He knew Gavin dreamed of branching
out on his own, of being the boss, but talk like that could make some people nervous. Ash just hoped Gavin wouldn’t undermine the integrity of Maddox and leak information to Golden Gate to suit his own interests.

Gavin’s cell rang and when he looked at the display he shot up from his chair. “Damn, gotta take this. I’ve got a lead on a new client. I don’t want to say too much, but it could be very lucrative.”

“Well, good luck.”

When Gavin was gone Ash looked at the clock. It seemed that time was crawling by today. It was still four hours until he picked up Mel for dinner. It was going to be tough sitting through the entire meal, knowing the ring was in his pocket. But he knew that the water was one of her favorite places, so that was where he wanted to do it. He’d timed it so that the sun would be setting and the view would be spectacular.

He’d planned it so precisely, there wasn’t a single thing that could possibly go wrong.

Melody was running late.

She leaned close to the mirror and fixed the eyeliner smudge in the corner of her eye. Boy, she was out of practice.

Ash stuck his head in for tenth time in the past fifteen minutes. “Ready yet?”

“One more minute.”

“That’s what you said ten minutes ago. We’re going to be late for our reservation.”

“The restaurant isn’t going anywhere. It won’t kill us if we have to wait a little longer.” It was their first real night out since the accident, and she wanted it to be special. She’d bought a new dress and even curled her hair and pinned it up.

“Mel?”

“Fine! Jeez.” She swiped on some lipstick, dropped the tube in her purse and said, “Let’s go.”

He hustled her into the elevator, then into the car. Her new car sat beside his, and though she had been a little nervous at first being back in the driver’s seat, now she loved it. She even made excuses to go out just so she could drive it.

Ash got in the driver’s side, started the car and zipped through the garage to the entrance. He made a right out onto the street. Traffic was heavy, and Ash cursed when they had to stop at the red light.

“We’re going to be late,” he complained, watching for a break in the traffic so he could hang a right.

“What is it with you tonight?” she asked, pulling down the mirror on the visor to check her eyeliner one last time. “Are you going to turn into a pumpkin or something?”

He started to move forward just as she was flipping her visor up, and at the same time a guy on a bike shot off the curb and into the intersection.

“Ash!” she screamed, and he slammed on the brakes, barely missing the guy’s back tire as he flew by in an attempt to beat the light.

“Idiot,” Ash muttered, then he turned to look at her. “You okay?”

She couldn’t answer. Her hands were trembling and braced on the dash, her breath coming in short, fast bursts. She suddenly felt as though her heart was going to explode from her chest it was hammering so hard.

“Mel? Talk to me,” Ash said, sounding worried, but his voice was garbled, as if he was talking to her through water.

She tried, but she couldn’t talk. Her lips felt numb and she wasn’t getting enough air.

Out. She had to get out of the car.

The car behind them honked so Ash zipped around the corner.

He put his hand on her arm, keeping one eye on her and one on the road. “Mel, you’re scaring me.”

She couldn’t breathe. She was trapped and she needed air.

She reached for the door handle and yanked, not even caring that they were still moving, but the door was locked.

Ash saw what she was doing and yanked her away from the door. “Jesus, Mel, what are you doing?”

“Out,” she wheezed, still struggling to get a breath. “Get me out.”

“Hold on,” he said, gripping her arm, genuine fear in his voice. “Let me pull over.”

He whipped down the alley behind their building then turned back into the parking garage. The second he came to a stop she clawed her door open and threw herself out, landing on her knees on the pavement. Her purse landed beside her and its contents spilled out, but she didn’t care. She just needed air.

She heard Ash’s door open and in an instant he was behind her. “Mel, what happened? Is it your head? Are you hurt?”

It was getting easier to breathe now, but that crushing panic, the instinct to run intensified as adrenaline raced through her bloodstream.

She closed her eyes, but instead of blackness she saw a rain-slicked windshield, she heard the steady thwap of the wipers. The weather was getting worse, she thought. Better get home. But then there was a bike. One second it wasn’t there, then it was, as though it materialized from thin air. She saw a flash of long blond hair, a pink
hoodie. She yanked the wheel, there was a loud thunk, then rolling—

“No!” Her eyes flew open. She was still in the parking garage, on the floor. But it happened. It was real. “I hit her. I hit the girl.”

“Mel, you have to calm down,” Ash said sternly, then she felt his arms around her, helping her up off the ground. Her knees were so weak, her legs so shaky she could hardly walk on her own.

“There was a bike,” she told him. “And a girl. I hit her.”

“Let’s get you upstairs,” he said, helping her to the elevator.

As the doors slid shut she closed her eyes and was suddenly overwhelmed by the sensation that she was rolling. Rolling and rolling, violent thrashing, pain everywhere, then wham. A sharp jolt and a pain in her head. Then, nothing. No movement. No sound. Can’t move.

Trapped.

“Mel.”

Her eyes flew open.

“We’re here.”

Disoriented, she gazed around and realized she was back in the elevator, on their floor and he was nudging her forward. Not in the car. Not trapped.

He helped her inside and sat her down on the couch. He poured her a drink and pressed it into her hands. “Drink this. It’ll help you calm down.”

She lifted it to her lips and forced herself to take a swallow, nearly gagging as it burned a trail of fire down her throat. But she was feeling better now. Not so panicked. Not so afraid. The fuzziness was gone.

He started to move away and she gripped the sleeve of his jacket. “Don’t go!”

“I’m just going to get the first-aid kit from the guest bathroom. We need to clean up your knees.”

She looked down and saw that her knees were raw and oozing blood, and the sight of it made her feel dizzy and sick to her stomach.

She lay back and let her head fall against the cushion. She remembered now, as clear as if it had happened this morning. She was in the car, knowing she had to get help. She had to help the girl. But when she tried to move her arms something was pinning her. She was trapped. She tried to see what it was, thinking she could pry it loose, but the second she moved her head, pain seized with a vicelike grip, so intense that bile rose up to choke her. She moaned and closed her eyes against the pain.

She tried to think, tried to concentrate on staying conscious. Then she felt it, low in her belly. A sharp pain. Then cramping. She remembered thinking,
No, not there. Not the baby. The baby.

Oh, God. She had been pregnant. She was going to have Ash’s baby.

The final piece of the puzzle slid into place. That was why she left Ash. That was why she ran to Texas. She was pregnant with Ash’s baby, a baby she knew he would never want.

The relief of finally having the answers, finally seeing the whole picture, paled in comparison to the ache in her heart.

They could have been a family. She and Ash and the baby. They could have been happy. But how could she have known?

Ash reappeared and knelt down in front of her. He’d
taken off his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves to his elbows. “This is probably going to sting,” he warned her, then he used a cool, damp washcloth to wipe away the blood. She sucked in a surprised breath as she registered the raw sting of pain.

“Sorry,” he said. “This probably won’t feel much better, but we don’t want it getting infected. God only knows what’s on the floor down there.”

He wet a second cloth with hydrogen peroxide, and she braced herself against the pain as he dabbed it on her knees. It went white and bubbly on contact.

If she had known it could be like this, that they could be so happy, she wouldn’t have left. She would have told him about the baby.

Now it was too late.

Ash smoothed a jumbo-size bandage across each knee. “All done.”

“Is she dead?” Mel asked him, as he busied himself with repacking the first-aid kit. The fact that he wouldn’t look at her probably wasn’t a good sign. “Please tell me.”

He sighed deeply and looked up at her. “It wasn’t your fault.”

So that was a yes. She pretty much knew already. And her fault or not, she had killed someone’s baby. Someone’s child. And she hadn’t even had a chance to apologize. To say she was sorry. “Why didn’t someone tell me?”

“The doctor thought it would be too traumatic.”

She laughed wryly. “And finding out this way has just been a barrel of laughs.”

He rose to his feet, the kit and soiled rags in hand. “He did what he thought was best.”

It hit her suddenly that the doctor must have told him about the baby, too. He thought Ash was her fiancé. What reason would he have to hide it?

All this time Ash knew and he had never said a word. It was one thing to lie about engagements, and hide personal information, but this was their
child.

“Is that why you didn’t say anything about the baby, either?”

Ash closed his eyes and shook his head. “Don’t do this. Just let it go.”

“Let it go? I lost a baby.”

He looked at her, his eyes pleading. “Everything has been so good, please don’t ruin it.”

“Ruin it?”

“Can’t we just do what we’ve been doing and pretend it never happened?”

Her mouth fell open. “How can you even say something like that? I lost a child—”

“That wasn’t mine!” he shouted, slamming the first-aid kit down so hard on the coffee table that she heard the glass crack. She was so stunned by the unprecedented outburst that it took a second for his words to sink in.

“Ash, who told you it wasn’t yours? Of course it was yours.”

He leveled his eyes on her, and if she didn’t know better, she would think he was going to hit her. But when he spoke his voice was eerily calm. “You and I both know that’s impossible. I’m sterile.”

She could hardly believe what he was suggesting. “You think I had an
affair.
”

“I had unprotected sex with you for three years, and with my wife for seven years, and no one got pregnant before now, so yeah, I think it’s pretty damn likely that you had an affair.”

He couldn’t honestly believe she would do that. “Ash, since that night at the party, when we met, there has been
no one
but you.”

“The party? I seriously doubt that.”

He might as well have just called her a whore. “If it
was
mine,” he said, “why did you run off?”

“Because you had made it pretty clear that you had no desire to have a family, and you sure as hell didn’t seem to want me. I figured it would be best for everyone if I just left. Frankly, I’m surprised you even noticed I was gone.”

His eyes cut sharply her way.

Why was he being so stubborn? He
knew
her. He knew she would never hurt him. “Ash, I’m telling you the
truth.
”

“And I’m just supposed to trust you? Just take your word for it when I know it’s impossible?”