Which was why he was going to do everything to keep his child from feeling the same.
Jaxon Talbot’s house
3:30 p.m.
“You slept like a rock.”
“If I could sleep like the dead before this pregnancy, now I think I am going to become Sleeping Beauty,” she said over her shoulder as she picked up her door key and opened it for him. “May I offer you something to drink? We have water, on tap.”
“Thank you. That will be fine.”
She had to admit this was better than yelling at each other, but somehow it seemed silly because neither of them cared for observing social niceties at the moment, but she handed him his glass of water and sat down on the edge of the sofa, sipping her own water while she distractedly petted Sunny’s fur.
He eased his large frame into her too-small armchair. He looked enormous in her tiny room. His presence overpowered everything and she had the instant sensation of not being able to breathe. He seemed nervous and on edge. Probably feeling guilty for shouting at her.
He dragged a hand through his hair as he looked around, taking notice of how careful she was with her few possessions, then he glanced her way again. “You’ll understand my impatience to get this matter settled.”
“Settled?” she echoed. “I don’t see that this will ever quite be settled. Besides, a baby isn’t something that one settles.”
He sat forward, his body language tense and impatient. “Surely we can work out a suitable arrangement between us.”
“Will you want to be…involved? With the pregnancy, I mean.” She was babbling, and the strange thing was, the more she talked, the angrier he seemed to get. “Some men aren’t interested, and won’t do things like go to doctor’s appointments and stuff like that, and it’s okay, really.”
“Not in my case. I have told you, this baby is my heir.”
“I respect your sense of commitment towards the baby,” she told him tensely.
“And to you,” Angus added. “Marrying me will bring you financial security and every material advantage our child could ever want.”
Financial security. For the first time in my life. No worries about how to pay for everything the baby will need, and all the medical care along the way. That was something to think about. She set her glass on the cloth-covered crate that served as a nightstand beside her bed.
“Siobhan…what’s your answer?” Angus pressed, taking her hand in his.
She yanked her hand away from his and pushed upward to her feet. The room was too small. She felt caged and like her world was spiraling out of control. “Do you want to know what the second of my three major turn-offs is? It’s pressure. I don’t respond well to pressure.”
And what are the other two? He wanted to argue but he thinned his lips in a hard line.
“I need time to think—”
“But we haven’t got time. What do you have to think about?” Angus demanded imperiously.
“That you even ask that question reveals the depth of your arrogance,” Siobhan murmured tautly. I want to be loved by the man I marry. Unnerved by his dispassionate outlook, Siobhan shook her head slowly. “I’m a waitress, you are a king. This is not going to work.”
His eyes became cold as ice. “I won’t accept a negative response, Siobhan. If you won’t marry me, I’ll be forced to fight you in court for custody of our child.”
How misleading his cool façade and exquisite manners were. Below the skin, Angus was every bit as aggressive, dominant, and cruel in his instincts as a street fighter protecting his territory. But she would not allow him to control her, no matter how rich and powerful he might be. She would direct her own life. The thought of someone else in control of her pregnancy unnerved her. Her mouth ran dry in fear and she wanted to hurt him as much as he hurt her. “I can always get rid of it. It’s my body.”
But as soon as she had spoken she wished she hadn’t. First, because it wasn’t true. She wouldn’t do that. Then Angus’s face shadowed, a deep pain glimmering in the darkening depths of his eyes.
He ground his teeth, seething. “Well…you don’t give me much choice.”
Still playing it cool and unconcerned, Siobhan nodded, “So, can we talk like civilized people?”
He dragged a hand through his long hair several times as he seemed to be trying to figure out what to say next. “Sure. Could I have more water?”
Sighing in relief, Siobhan rose to get them a bottle of water. As she crossed to the small kitchen, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. They didn’t have the intimacy two people who’d created a child should have and enjoy, but they had made a baby. A fragile creature who deserved all the love and care in this world, and not strained parents fighting over it even before it was born.
She rubbed her flat stomach, already in love with the tiny life blooming there.
And suddenly the idea of marrying him—in the near future, if they go back to liking each other, the way they did in the beginning—didn’t seem so bad. Even more crucial to her, it would also give her child a father, indeed a normal two parent family.
What kind of husband would he be? What kind of father?
She heard him shift slightly in his chair, and imagined him walking up behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck with his chin. Cozy. Intimate. He had certainly been able to seduce her once before; surely there would be moments of affection between them?
But how would he want to raise the child? Would she spend every day fighting to keep her son or daughter close, if he wanted to repeat his parents’ mistakes for the sake of tradition or something?
She stretched and yawned—she hadn’t realized how exhausted she was—then with a bottle of water in her hands, she made her way back to the room.
Cautious, but more open to hearing him out, Siobhan poured water in his glass and took her seat once more. Her upset stomach had settled, leaving her desperately thirsty. She swallowed half of her glass as quickly as she could without making a fool of herself and poured herself more.
When she turned her eyes back to him, she found him watching her intensely. At least she thought he was, because she wasn’t using her glasses and without them she didn’t have a clue of what was happening.
“You look tired,” he noticed the effort she was making to keep her eyelids open.
She yawned again. “Carrying a baby is more work than a man can imagine.”
His eyes softened and he pulled her to his chest, softly rubbing her hair with long strokes. “Why don’t you come home with me? You can rest and then we will talk more about our plans.”
“Hmm, yes, maybe after I take a nap.” But that wasn’t what I was going to say.
“We’ll discuss our future,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head. “How to best bring up our child.”
“Obviously, I’m going to need your help but I can repay you as soon as I’m working again.” Her words came out slurred and her vision was blurry, trailing color behind objects in dizzying patterns. “I don’t have health insurance and I’m between jobs and being pregnant is not so—”
“You’ll have the best available care,” he cut in, a bit too forceful. Then he picked up her glass of water and put it in her hand, saying, “I have been told pregnant mothers must drink a lot of fluids.”
“Yes.” She finished the water and put the empty glass on the side table. “I’ll repay you as soon as I am working again.”
“Siobhan, you’ll never have to worry about money. I’ll provide for our child and you.”
A huge yawn made her put her hand over her mouth. “Thank you.”
He was tentative as he traced the lines of her shoulders, his eyes following his every movement. No man had ever looked at her as he did—like she was the best thing in the world. He caressed the pads of his fingers over her collarbone so tenderly she was staggered by his gentleness.
Despite herself, she was intrigued by this unexpected side of him. Amazingly, she found herself relaxin
g.
Lightly, he pressed his thumbs against her muscles there, massaging, and she sighed happily. “I could get used to this.”
“I will happily oblige,” he whispered, continuing the massage in hypnotizing circles. After fifteen minutes, he shook her shoulder softly. When she didn’t answer, he shook harder and called, “Siobhan?”
She was out cold.
Well, that was easy.
The tiny cat meowed in Siobhan’s ear and climbed to curl up in the curve of her hip. It glared at him with disapproval.
“Desperate times, as they say, call for desperate measures,” he told the cat with a shrug.
He considered bringing the cat along. It might help her adjust, give her a comforting piece of home to cling to. He would prefer she cling to him, but if the cat was what she needed…
But he was not ready for the paw swipe Sunny batted at him when he reached out to touch it.
“Ow!” He cursed loudly, sucking his bleeding finger.
The cat hissed and arched its spiky little back at him.
“No ride for you,” he told it irritably. Searching Siobhan’s bag for documents and cell phone and finding everything in order, he put it on his shoulder. For a moment, he looked around wondering if she would need something else, but with a shrug decided he could buy better of anything she needed.
The cat ran when he stooped to scoop Siobhan up in his arms. Good. It’ll save me the trouble of pushing the little, annoying feline away.
She is so small. Sometimes, he forgot that. He’d almost forgotten it when he put Clonazepam in her water.
While she was awake and aware, all he saw was the wild, happy energy of her.
An energy that was the closest to his own he’d ever glimpsed.
Outside, he gestured to his bodyguard with his head and the man came over at once. He thought to have the bodyguard carry her while he went to open one of the back doors, but the idea of having another man hold her, even in such an innocent manner did not sit well with him.
“Open the back, please, then go shut and lock her door.”
The bodyguard ran to comply and Angus carefully lowered her into the back of the limo, adjusting her position for better comfort after laying her down. He lifted her head and scooted himself closer, then rested her head on his lap.
As they drove away, he gently stroked her hair while looking at her belly, imagining a son growing inside of her.
He wondered if that son would someday judge him harshly for what he had done.
13
In Lektenstaten Mountains
Braxton-Lenox Mountain House
6:45 p.m.
Angus drew in a breath as the helicopter hovered over the grounds of his country house, glad to finally see the place.
Siobhan had slept throughout the entire drive, stirred briefly when he carried her to the helicopter, and then was quiet again which made him worry.
He called Dr. Qasam Singh, who had assured him that it was normal for a pregnant woman who had imbibed Clonazepam to sleep so stonily. There would be no lasting effects, but perhaps for a brief amnesia.
He didn’t know why, but he hadn’t left her side throughout the trip, preferring to be close to her, even as she drooled on his shoulder at one point.
He felt as if he were her protector, especially since she was carrying his child. And he had never seen her so tired.
The door opened and with the help of the pilot and co-pilot, he eased himself out of the helicopter carefully with Siobhan in his arms.
She murmured and shifted her position, but did not wake as he cradled her against his chest and strode toward the house, ignoring the curious stares from his employees. Let them think what they wish.
Esmeralda Romani, his longtime housekeeper, and Jumani Roma, his butler, were at the doors. Angus knew he could trust them, but he was not sure what he was going to tell them. So, he settled for, “I wish not to be disturbed, Jumani, by anyone.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
He took her to his bedroom and laid her on his bed.
“Your Majesty?”
Realizing Esmeralda and a young maid were standing there, he cleared his throat. “I will get to her, Esmeralda. Please have them prepare Inne—the connecting room. Did Ewan send the orders yet?”
“Yes, Sir. It’s all in the dressing room already.”
“Perfect.”
When Esmeralda and the maid exited the room, Angus carefully removed her shoes, then unzipped and tugged off her dress. He hesitated for a moment before also taking off her bra, pantyhose, and her panties. Opening the coverlet, he settled her gently on the pillows and covered her.
She mumbled something.
“What?”
She stirred, but didn’t wake, her breaths growing deep and even once more, but he could have sworn she mumbled something about mangoes.
Angus walked to the bedroom window and looked at the extensive forest surrounding his country house and at the snow-peaked mountain in the near distance, yet saw none of it. His eyes were narrowed and his brow furrowed.
He rolled his head on his neck to loosen the knotted muscles there. Though he should be exhausted, he was wired.
He didn’t like subterfuges. Even in business, he used them as little as possible.
A faint sound from the bed made him tense, and slowly he turned around. Her eyes darted behind her lids, her shoulders twitching. Is she always this fitful a sleeper?
It had all seemed so rational, but the truth of the matter was that he was not feeling very rational since he discovered Siobhan was pregnant with his baby.
He let his mind roll back through the years, through the inglorious, notorious events of his life. Through all the loneliness. His chest tightened and Angus rubbed at it idly to ease the ache. She was having his child, a miracle in itself. He could almost imagine her stomach growing with each passing month, feeling his child, his heir, kick under his hand as he cupped it gently.
She could not deny him those moments—and even if he could not imagine her getting an abortion, he wouldn’t risk it—which was why he had taken drastic measures by bringing her here.
Surrendering to the need to touch her, he crossed to the bed and lay down beside her, brushing the backs of his fingers over her cheek, marveling at the sweep of her dark lashes, the gentle parting of her lips.
She would be safe with him. She and the baby.
I will take care of you. In all ways.
9:00 p.m.
Siobhan sighed and burrowed closer to the source of heat. She gave a lazy yawn and nearly purred at the large hand rubbing up and down her back. What a wonderful way to wake up.
Then she remembered she was with Angus and it could only be his hand wandering aimlessly across her back.
She opened her eyes and found Angus propped above her, staring down at her. With his long hair streaming over his broad shoulders, he looked deliciously savage. And in the depths of his eyes blazed a light—a fire—that made her itchy and warm inside and out.
She licked her lips nervously and his gaze darkened further, until the gold was a slim ring around the dilated black of his pupils.
She stretched, her breasts brushing onto his side. Her hair trailed over him.
His hand moved up to her hair, dipped into the strands, pushing them back, and he gently massaged her nape.
His mouth parted and his breath came in an uneven jerk. His hand tightened around her nape and before she could process the situation, he pulled her to him, bending his head to meet her lips.
It was a gentle kiss. Barely a brush across her tingling mouth, but how sweet it tasted. He came back again, this time pressing his mouth to the corner of hers. His tongue lapped out, warm and rough, dragging over the curve of her mouth and then running along the seam, demanding her lips to part.
Unable to deny him anything, she opened and allowed him entrance.
He probed cautiously as if savoring the first meeting of their tongues. In a delicate dance, the tips d
ueled, withdrawing and then advancing more boldly, brushing over each other in a heady rasp.
He whispered, “You taste so sweet.”
His voice sent shivers down her spine.
His hands came to her waist, and again, his lips were on hers, warm and aggressive. He kissed her now as he did everything else, hot and hard.
His head bent down as his lips moved over hers, wet, warm and soft.
Her heart felt like it was going to explode in her chest with the sudden heat and excitement coursing through her. To be kissed by a man. By a hot, aroused, demanding man. One of his hands moved to the back of her head, anchoring it while his head tilted and his lips moved over hers with a thoroughness that took her breath away.
Her heart started racing as her body practically convulsed in response. His mouth tasted like cigars and whisky. It was thick on his breath and tongue and should have repelled her. Turned her off. Instead, it only excited her more. Her nerve endings were ablaze.
His leg went between her legs, and his other hand came up to her face, caressing her skin with a tenderness that was so at odds with the heat of everything else.
He loved touching her. Like nothing he could remember. She was soft and silky—and wet where she should be.
He’d had sex aplenty in his past life and with many women. None of them made him feel like she did, without even beginning the act itself. None made him feel like he did at this moment—weak and powerful at the same time, dominant and protective, possessive and slightly obsessive. “I want you.”
She rose her head to look at him. Illuminated by the soft moonlight pouring through the gap in the curtains and the glowing embers of fire, he looked like a pagan god.
Moonlight? Fire? She blinked, and awakened to her surroundings. She was lying in a bed—his bed—half sprawled atop him while he kissed her senseless, when she—they—should be talking.
Siobhan pushed away from him, sitting up in bed. Even squinting her eyes, she couldn’t make out the place. “Where am I?”