Perfect Stranger (19 page)

It’s mine?
Jordan’s question echoed in my head. How dare he? And while I was the one who forgot to get the morning-after pill, he forgot the bloody condom in the first place. For a second, I felt nauseous. What the hell did he think of me, to ask that? If I’d had any doubts about a relationship, they were crystal-freaking-clear now.

Instinct cut in. I had to go. Leave immediately. Tell him I never wanted to see him again. I’d explain to Sophie later. For now, I had to grab my stuff and get the fuck out of here.

Thoughts and fears tangled up in my head, with pain eclipsing everything. My vision blurred, and I realized tears ran silently down my face. Crying again? At least I could blame hormones now.

Doors banged somewhere in the apartment, and I braced myself to see him. I opened the bathroom door and peeked around. He was nowhere.

I staggered to the bed, sank onto the mattress, and buried my face in my hands. My worst fear had come true. I’d tried to keep my distance, keep a shield around my heart, but the bastard had chipped away at it. Despite my best efforts, I’d fallen in love with him.

Never again.

Another bump sounded, and it galvanized me. My overnight bag sat on the floor, my clothes draped across a chair. There were toiletries in the bathroom. It took minutes to pull on fresh clothes and shove my belongings into the bag. My phone was charging somewhere. I needed to wake Sophie.

I fumbled with the zipper of the bag. I yanked at the tag, but it was jammed.
For fuck’s sake.
I tugged it again, and then froze.

Jordan stood in the doorway, watching me as though I were something disgusting he’d trodden in. He could have been a stranger. “Where are you going?” He barked the question.

I didn’t bother answering, and tried again to fasten the zipper.

“I said, where are you going?”

“Does it matter? Away from here. Away from you.”

“I want you to marry me.” He sounded hollow, and I almost laughed.

“You have to be fucking joking. Minutes ago, you asked if you were the father. How do you think that made me feel?”

“This is no joking matter.” He strode to me, took hold of my upper arms, and pulled me to stand in front of him. “We’ll get married as soon as we can. I’m not letting you raise my child alone.” His gaze bored into me, and I felt afraid. He was angry and icily controlled, and I knew he hated me for this.

“You can’t make me marry you.” I tried to make light of it, but he continued as though I hadn’t spoken.

“I’ll arrange for a license today, and book it for the earliest date available.”

I started to protest, but he took me into his arms and held me close. “We’re good together. We can make it work.” His decision was made, regardless of what I thought.

“We need to talk,” I managed. My life spiraled out of control so fast it made me dizzy. What the fuck happened to my willpower? One touch from Jordan, and it dissolved. I must need my head examined, if I thought this was a good idea. “This is madness. We barely know each other.”

“We know enough.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I don’t walk away from my responsibilities, Kate. At least consider it for the child’s sake.”

I’d resisted committing to him from the start. Was my stubbornness such a good idea? I wanted to lean on him and have him fix all my problems, but this was real life. There were no magical solutions.

“I want you to be my wife.”

A noise in the doorway made me jump. It was Sophie, rubbing sleep-filled eyes, and with a growing smile on her face. “Did I hear that right? You guys are getting married?”

I stared at Jordan. He could have leapt in and told Sophie
yes
, but he waited for me to reply. While I hated to admit it, he made sense.

“I think so,” I said. “Yes. And I’m pregnant.”

Sophie squealed in delight and ran to hug me. “Oh, my God. I’m going to be an aunt. I’ll be the best aunt ever.”

“We hope you and Isaac will stand as our witnesses, at the wedding.” Jordan’s smile looked ready to crack at any moment, but my sister didn’t notice. Minutes later, Isaac offered his congratulations, and it was all a done deal.

How did that happen?

I didn’t push back hard enough. I should have said
no
. Stuck to my guns and walked out.

Why didn’t I?

Because I loved him.

Because I wanted to believe him.

Because I was an even bigger fool than I suspected.

* * * *

I tried to focus on the will being read, but my mind kept leaping back to the look of disgust on Jordan’s face and his absolute determination we marry. Inside, I was crying, even if the outside appearance was blank. I never wanted a full-on proposal, as Greg did for Isobel. I didn’t want pretty words and a romantic setting. What I
did
want, and now seemed impossible, was for Jordan to tell me he loved me and wanted to make a family with me. Not this.

I gazed at him during the reading and tried to remember how he looked when he was happy. I’d only known him a couple months. How did we arrive at this point? And what possible future could we have?

Gran left one of her London apartments to Sophie and her Anglesey house to me. I’d forgotten that old place at Rhosneigr. I spent several holidays there as a child, and I assumed the house was sold years earlier. It was an rectory, built in the mid-nineteenth century, and had been left with all its contents to me. From the description, it needed serious renovating and hadn’t been lived in for years, but it was mine. My sanctuary.

Sophie was thrilled to have a place in London. She’d no idea it would be given to her, and it fitted beautifully with her plans to move to London with Isaac. He’d be able to study full time, and once she found a job, they’d only have to cover utility bills and food. There’d be no mortgage or rent to worry about.

The problem of finding a job was resolved as well. When Sophie told Jordan she was looking for admin work, he offered her a junior-assistant position at TM-Tech. Apparently one had just left, and they hadn’t even advertised the vacancy yet. She could start as soon as they moved.

Everyone’s problems were solved, apart from mine. I was going to be married to a man who didn’t love me.

As soon as we were done with the lawyer, I was on auto-pilot, breaking the problem down into pieces, and solving each as it arose. That was how I operated at work. As long as I kept busy and didn’t have to think about anything, I’d be fine.

Were we back in Texas, it would be much faster to arrange. Here in London, I had to get a special license, but I managed to book the wedding for Monday afternoon. It was expensive, and in order to schedule it so soon, I had to bend the truth to the Registrar—as well as making a substantial donation to his nominated charity.

Next came a plain wedding band, in a size I thought would fit Kate. It could always be changed later. Flowers were a simple bouquet from the nearest florist, and then it was a case of arranging dinner for afterward. After a moment’s thought, I made reservations to fly to Paris and a suite at the Paris Savoy. It crossed my mind to fly her to Vegas for the wedding, but I wasn’t sure she’d agree to that.

As for guests… I didn’t bother with any. Sophie and Isaac would be there as witnesses, and as far as I was concerned, they were enough. I’d tell Marcus and Louisa when I told my father. After the event.

Arranging our wedding took less than two hours, and I hopped into a cab back to the apartment. With nothing more to do, my thoughts returned to Kate. My overriding emotion was fear. No—make that naked terror. She was my dream come true, but this was my worst scenario.

Marriage was not a permanent state; my father’s repeated attempts showed that. And I couldn’t think about the pregnancy. My mother died giving birth to my stillborn sister. I couldn’t—
wouldn’t
—think about that happening to Kate. I swallowed down the ever-present fear, knowing it’d never go away. It lurked, unseen, waiting for the right opportunity to creep out again.

Why was I adamant about inviting no guests? Louisa would be hurt, and Marcus would find it strange, but I needed to get the wedding over and done with. If I started issuing invitations, there’d be delays, and that was the last thing I wanted. Kate had been on the verge of leaving, last night. I had to fasten her to me. Make her stay.

She asked why it all had to be such a rush. Why we couldn’t wait a few weeks. She could invite people. I could invite my family. Why did we have to do it like this? I struggled to make sense when I answered. After all, what could I say? I was terrified she’d refuse to marry me, once she came to her senses. She might have an abortion.

Every protective instinct screamed at me to take care of her, especially now she carried my child. I was pushing, when she was vulnerable and stressed. It made me a bastard of the highest order, but I floundered in a sea of newly discovered emotions.

I needed to regain control.

* * * *

Back at the apartment, Kate greeted me with a defiant stare. “I want to invite Isobel and Jenny. To the wedding.”

“Sure. Anything else?”

She shook her head. She looked tired, and shame flooded me at how hard I continued to push her. “What are you going to wear? Don’t you need a dress?”

She shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Do you want me to take you shopping, or would that be bad luck?”

She played with her cellphone, sliding her fingers back and forth over the screen. Her voice was dull, when she said, “It wouldn’t make any difference.”

This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. What happened to the animated and lively Kate who turned my life inside out?

She was pregnant with my unplanned child.

I steeled myself for a difficult conversation. “Let’s sit down.”

She followed me into the living room and perched on the edge of an armchair. I took a seat facing her, so we were at the same level. Where to begin? “We should talk about this.”

“Which part? The have-you-been-sleeping-around part? Or maybe the we-have-to-get-married-immediately part? There’s no point in hashing out the I-forgot-to-wear-a-fucking-condom part, is there?” Anger flickered in her eyes, but I felt heartened by her sharp response. My Kate was still in there somewhere.

“How about the part where I remind you I can provide for you both? That our child can have a good start in life. We’re not penniless teenagers, having a shotgun wedding.”

“What if I don’t want you to provide for us? Children need more than money thrown at them.”

“You’re right. They need two parents.”

She huffed a laugh, but it sounded frustrated. “Neither of us is the poster child for a perfect family. Your aunt brought you up, while I had Gran when my parents were gone. And besides, a happy single parent is much better than an unhappy married couple.”

Damn it. She was right on every count. Should I admit defeat? No. Every instinct screamed to hold her close and to take care of them the only way I knew how. I had to turn away, otherwise she’d see the guilt on my face.

She didn’t want to marry me and was only doing so because I took away her other choices. Was it really worth it? I escaped to my study, where I sat and gazed out of the windows, but I didn’t see anything.

I thought Kate was joking. “What d’you mean, you’re getting married on Monday?”

“
You
eloped. And so will we, sort of.”

Something was wrong. The light was gone from her voice. She wouldn’t have sounded more depressed if she’d said she needed a root canal.

“We eloped to Gretna, but we still had to arrange it a month in advance,” I said. “You can’t get married in three days. Not unless you go to Vegas. Is that it? You’re going to have an Elvis wedding?”

She sighed. “No. Jordan waved a magic wand, probably leaned on some people he knows, and pulled a license out of nowhere. I’d love for you to come down to London for it. Will you? Please?” Her voice cracked on the last word, and I closed my eyes in despair.

“I
can’t
.” Though I knew I was alone, I looked over my shoulder. “Rob thinks you’re seeing Cade. I can’t tell him you’re marrying someone else, just like that.”

The line went so quiet, I thought she must have hung up. “Kate? I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. There’s no point asking you to come down by yourself, is there?”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Rob wouldn’t like it?”

“Kate, please don’t be like this.”

“He’ll find out. I can’t keep lying for you.”

“Just a little longer. I’ll tell him you broke up, and then—”

“Don’t bother. Tell me when we can be friends again. I’ve got stuff to do. See you.”

I sucked in a breath at her savage tone. “Kate?”

This time she’d hung up. I sat staring at my phone for a minute, my lungs tight and my heart racing. I didn’t know which scared me more—the idea of us not being friends or telling Rob I lied about Cade.

I fingered a new bruise on my cheekbone. It was an accident. I
knew
that. And Rob was
so
apologetic. He was drunk last night and lashed out, not expecting me to be as close. All the same, I’d have to figure out how to slip in the news about Kate. Pick my moment.

We spent the day moving furniture to our new place. Rob and his friend, Brian, were still hard at it, hauling stuff in the rented van, while I stayed and unpacked. I might have everything straight by the time work rolled around on Monday.

My phone jangled again, and I grabbed it, hoping Kate had called back.

It was Isobel. “
Jen
. Have you heard Kate’s news? She’s marrying Mister One-Night-Stand. My God. D’you think she felt left out? You and Rob, me and Greg, and now Kate and this guy. Have you even
met
him yet?”

I never knew if Isobel was being catty or trying to be funny. Her tongue frequently ran away with her. “No, I haven’t met him. Are you going? To the wedding?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. How about you?”

And there was the difference between Isobel’s relationship with Greg and mine with Rob. There were no lies between them. Nothing to be covered up.

“I… No. We’re in the middle of moving in. I’m too busy.”

“
Doh.
I forgot about that. How’s it going?”

“Good, thanks.”

“Surely you could go down for the day? I mean, it’s Kate’s wedding.”

“I can’t. Really.”

“Do you want to go halves on a present? We could get something fab between us.”

I closed my eyes and felt the pulse throbbing in my temple. “I’m broke at the moment. I’ll have to send her something later, when I get paid.”

“Have you two fallen out or something?”

“Don’t be silly,” I said. “It’s bad timing. That’s all.”

I was getting very good at lying.