Tempted by the Billionaire: A Hometown Hero Series Novel (16 page)

“To protect your child? From me?”

“Damn right. If I have to stop you from being so goddamned selfish, I will.”

Willow stood on legs that were not steady. “How dare you?”

“You don’t want to marry me, so you’re going to deny our child the chance to have me in its life?”

“I didn’t say that,” she mumbled.

“But you’re going to stay on the other side of the country. Ike and Anna will be more involved in this child’s life than I will be, if you have your way.”

“You can move to California,” she pointed out, but her tone was weak.

“And you can move to New York.” He tried to be reasonable, but the importance of what they were discussing made his pulse burn like lava in his body. “I’m not going to be an absent father. I’m not going to see my child for the occasional weekend.”

“Then move to Haymarket Bay.”

His heart turned over at her simple solution, but it wasn’t enough.

“And you’ll marry me if I do?”

“No!” She stormed across the room and scooped up her handbag. “Absolutely not. Marriage is off the table. I wish you’d stop bringing it up.”

He followed her, his gait panther-like as he pursued her towards the door. “Don’t even think about walking out on me.”

“What choice do I have when you’re being so unreasonable?” She demanded fiercely, spinning around to confront him. “A week ago, you left me as though I meant nothing to you, and now you actually expect me to marry you? How desperate do you think I am? Seriously, do you think I have no self-respect?”

“I didn’t know you were pregnant a week ago,” he pointed out with a frustratingly calm sense of logic.

“Exactly! And you left me heart-broken and miserable. You didn’t call. You didn’t email. You disappeared. You don’t care about me at all, Matt, so being married to you would be a kind of torture. Because it would be fake.”

He stared at her as though she’d started speaking Martian.

“And another thing,” she shouted, her tone shrill and uneven now. “Aren’t you still technically married? Don’t you think one pissed off wife is enough for now?”

She saw him blanch as though she’d hit him, and felt a thud of pleasure. It was childish, but hurting him felt good. “I hate you,” she volleyed back to him, for good measure. “And I wish anyone but you was the father of my baby.”

She slammed the door shut behind her and lurched almost drunkenly towards the lifts. His was the only apartment on the level, and the metallic door pinged open almost instantly.

“Willow!” He called, only a step behind her. “Come back here.”

“No,” she snapped belligerently, and tears sprang to her eyes. He watched her go with a sinking feeling that he’d completely messed everything up. As the elevator doors began to slam shut, he snaked his hand between them.

“I left you heartbroken?” He demanded, staring into her dark brown eyes with unmasked curiosity.

Willow’s mouth gaped, and her cheeks burned. She felt exposed, and foolish. “It’s just an expression.”

Matt narrowed his eyes as he studied her intently. “Willow…” He expelled a breath, and ran his hands through his hair. “Why did you come here?”

She frowned. “What?”

“Why did you come here to tell me about the baby?”

Her frown deepened. “As opposed to…”

“As opposed to calling me.”

Willow’s stomach rolled, and she lowered her gaze. Looking at him was impossible. “I thought this kind of news should be delivered in person, that’s all.” That, and she’d had a gut-aching need to see him again.

He nodded. “And how did you expect me to react?”

She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments. “I don’t know. Not with a ridiculous marriage proposal.”

He nodded, and Willow had the sense that he was collating information. That he was building a file on her which would help him to handle her better. But she didn’t want to be handled. She wanted to be loved. By him. Only him.

“Where are you staying?”

“The Four Seasons.”

“Not anymore.” He put a hand in the small of her back, and gently propelled her out of the lift. When her spine stiffened, he tilted her a lopsided smile. “Relax. I have guest rooms.” Once back inside the privacy of his apartment, he unhooked her handbag and let it drop to the floor. “Think of what we’ve shared. Stay with me while we work out what to do.”

It was more than he’d offered a moment ago. Then, it had been marriage or nothing. At least there was a glimmer of hope that he was prepared to be reasonable.

Prepared to be reasonable? What was she, some Victorian pauper, desperate for kindness from the Lord of the Manor? She stared at him with a newfound fierceness. “I will stay here, in a guest room, because it’s in the best interest of our baby to work out a mature way to deal with this. But I want you to understand where I’m at.”

He clamped his mouth shut to resist the urge to smile. “Yes?”

“I have parents who love me. Dear friends who live next door to me. And a great career that gives me all the financial security I need. You cannot blackmail me into moving to New York. You can’t threaten me. If you’re not in the picture, this baby will still have a mom who loves it, and a rich, fulfilling life. I don’t need you, Matt. Don’t mistake the fact that I felt morally obliged to inform you of my pregnancy for anything else.”

Willow had needed to defend herself, but she hadn’t intended to sound so callous. The look of pain on Matt’s face scored deep marks in her heart; marks she knew she could never fully heal over. He covered his feelings quickly, but she’d seen it. She was on the brink of apologising, when he nodded. “I understand. This is no longer about what we shared. It’s just about the best interests of the baby. Let me show you to a guest room.” His voice was cold. Empty. Emotionless. Foreign to her.

He turned on his heel and moved through the apartment, leaving Willow in the entranceway, a shaking mess of tangled emotions and regret. This would never be just about the baby. Not when she loved him as she did.

She walked slowly, uncertainly, over the plush carpet, down the corridor he’d taken. Right at the end of it, he stood, waiting for her to catch up. When she’d almost reached him, he turned, and went up a small flight of stairs.

Another corridor, this time he went half way along and stopped outside a door. “This will be your room.” His eyes ran over her face. “For as long as you’d like it.”

She’d hurt him. He was acting cold and unaffected, but she knew him better than that.

“Matt,” she murmured, wondering what to say in this God-awful situation that would help them both accept their uncertain future.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He nodded curtly and moved away from her. She watched him disappear, a frown etched in her expression.

The bedroom was beyond spectacular. A king size bed in the centre looked small in the imposing space with double height ceilings. The windows opened out over a picture perfect view of Central Park, and she had her own en suit with a spa bath. She looked at it longingly, and realised she didn’t even know if she could have a spa bath when she was pregnant. Somewhere along the line, she’d heard something about it, but she couldn’t remember exactly what.

She settled instead for lying down on the bed. She curled on her side, her knees protectively bundled against her chest, her dark hair spread across the pillow like a skein. She focussed on the panoramic view of New York, and tried to concentrate on the thousands of people out there, living their lives. To them, her drama would seem insignificant and unimportant. It was her burden, but in the scheme of things, it didn’t matter. This baby would be loved; however she and Matt worked it out, their child would thrive.

CHAPTER TEN

A knock sounded at her door less than twenty minutes after she’d put her head on the pillow, but Willow didn’t hear it. She’d been exhausted of late, and sleep had grabbed her before she’d realised it was waiting for her.

Matt stepped into the room, followed by Doctor James. He froze, when he saw Willow. Fast asleep on the bed, beautiful and angelic. And his whole body seemed to galvanise with an indescribable energy.

“Leave her sleep,” the Doctor said with a small smile. “It’s what moms need most in the first trimester.”

“You’ll come back tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The doctor nodded, and stepped out of the room. Matt followed, reluctantly. “I have some reading material for you, in the mean time. First time dad stuff. A book on what to expect in pregnancy, and a pamphlet with recommendations about food, drink, general safety information.”

“Excellent, thank you.”

“It’s all common sense, for the most part. Avoid stressing mom. Keep her healthy. Make sure she eats well. Sleeps as needed. Pretty logical, right?”

“Absolutely. Nonetheless, I’d appreciate you giving her a full check up tomorrow, Doctor.”

“Always a good idea. Nine o’clock?”

Matt nodded, mentally rearranging his schedule. He wanted to be there, with Willow, when the doctor went through her medical information.

He wanted to be with her for everything.

And not just because of the baby. He took the reading material from the doctor and walked, as if on auto-pilot, back to Willow’s room.

Fast asleep, the only sign of life was the gentle movement her back made with each breath she took. He sighed, and lay on the bed beside her. He flicked the book open, and began to read. Every now and again, his eyes drifted to her sleeping form, and he felt it again. That odd lurching. Like a stone pitching through him, creating waves and motion.

Willow made a sound; a keening cry, that jolted him out of his reverie. He looked down at her anguished face, as her cry got louder. “Hey,” he whispered, covering her body with his so that he could touch her face. “Willow,” he whispered again, and when still she didn’t open her eyes, he lay down beside her and wrapped his arms around her torso.

Holding her close felt so right. He breathed in the fragrance of her hair, and her skin; her clothes and her body, and he let out a slow breath of surrender. He’d spent so long fighting it, that he hadn’t realised… he couldn’t fight this. It was inevitable, in the same way the day was destined to follow the night, this was just meant to be. Accepting the realisation was like lifting a weight off his shoulders. He smiled the biggest smile of his life as he finally understood the role fate had played in determining his future.

He rolled her closer to his body, needing closeness and to offer comfort. But instinctively, her mouth sought his, and her hands clutched at the soft cotton of his shirt. She lifted a leg over him, and as he gave in and kissed her back, she smiled against his mouth.

“Willow,” he groaned, wanting desperately to enjoy the contact but knowing it was wrong. He needed to speak to her before anything else happened. He pulled away from her, just enough to break their kiss. Her eyes flew open, her expression disorientated.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, his light blue eyes scanning her face.

Willow swallowed. Her hands were still bunched in his shirt, her leg thrown over his body. “I’m fine.” She cleared her throat, and would have rolled away completely if he hadn’t kept her more or less still with his own powerful hands. “I fell asleep,” she said unnecessarily.

He nodded, but remained otherwise silent. Up close, she could see the little sprinkle of freckles on his nose. Her fingertips ached to touch them, but their difficult situation lay between them like a roll of barbed wire.

“What are you doing here?”

His bright blue eyes seemed to devour her face. It was as though she were a drink and he a man lost in the desert. He cleared his throat. “Long story.” The metaphorical barbed wire was not enough to stop him. He lifted a hand and ran it over her hair. “But I realised something important. Something I need to explain to you.”

“Oh yeah?” She swallowed. Her mouth was parched. “What’s that?”

His lips lifted in the faintest hint of a smile. “I want to marry you.”

She groaned and shook her head. “We’ve already talked about this.”

“No, we haven’t.” He lifted a hand to her lips, in a gesture of quiet. “Willow, I
want
to marry you. More than anything else in the world.”

She frowned, and a small crease formed between her eyes. “You do?”

“Uh huh.” He lifted his finger and ran it over the furrow in her brow.

“Why?”

He smiled with the secret knowledge he held. “Because I don’t ever want to leave you again. I don’t ever want to wake up, and look down the barrel of a day that doesn’t have you in it.” He ran a finger over her cheek, marvelling at the smoothness there. “I left Haymarket Bay a week ago, thinking I could just slip back into my normal life. But it’s not here anymore. Nothing’s the same, now that I’ve met you.”

Hadn’t she felt the same? As though her life, once fulfilling and satisfying enough, had turned to grey scale. She blinked at him in confusion. “But that doesn’t mean we should get married.”

He nodded. “When it comes to marriage, I consider myself an expert in why
not
to do it. Don’t marry because someone’s pretty. Don’t marry because it makes sense. Don’t marry because it’s easier than hurting someone’s feelings. The only real reason to tie yourself to someone for the rest of your life and theirs is because you are in love. In love in an a way that will absolutely suffocate you unless you give in to it.”