Her pregnancy was the catalyst for that revelation. It was one thing to wallow in misery when her world consisted of herself and no one else. This child that she carried was her responsibility. He or she was her family. Its survival was solely dependent on her. The Grand Hotel could be compared to that child. For all intents and purposes, Anna couldn't afford another mouth to feed. However, since she'd made up her mind to raise the baby on her own, she didn't have any other option. Every now and again guilt would overwhelm her. She should call and let Hill know he was about to be a father. But then, selfishness and shame would stop her from making that call.
She'd stretched the little that she had in order to nourish her child as much as possible. As for the hotel, right now it wasn't a hotel. Anna had discovered that need and pride had no business in the same sentence. Through a chance encounter, where she'd hired two guys from the Architectural program at a nearby school to pick up two old sofas that were being offered for free online, she'd heard about a place that gave away unused house-paint to people who needed it. Whatever she could find between freebies and pieces from the hotel that hadn't been sold off - had been used to repair six of the suites. The guys worked for a place to live, their rooms a little better than the dorms they would have returned to at the start of the traditional school year.
Against the mandatory bed-rest ordered by her doctor, Anna had also gone about getting the place ready for use. By the time the baby arrived, she should be pulling in a steady enough income to support them through the first few months. She'd learned to be her own electrician and plumber, installing ceiling fans and repairing clogged drains and faulty showers. Steadily, she had chipped out the yellowed tubs in three of the bathrooms and had the boys replace them with concrete shower floors. The walls of the showers were fearfully constructed out of the glass shower-doors that she'd taken down. Those she'd edged with chips of blue-green tile. At the end of her minor renovations, the more stunning rooms were kept on reserve for higher-end potential clients. Then, she'd joined the world of social media. She'd 'Friended' the nearest universities and colleges, visited them during orientation week, and aggressively advertised the six 'studio' apartments she had available to rent for the next semester. Her property might never again be a grand hotel. Some might even view it as a gypsy in Frisco. But, it was her only chance for a good life, and if she had to continue to shop at the poor man's market in order to secure that life, so be it.
Months ago, she'd determined that if she told Hill about the pregnancy he would be just the type to want to be a part of the child's life. If he believed their one night together had been 'productive', he'd want to contribute financially to that child's welfare. That was the last thing Anna needed. Maybe in time, when she was more confident in her ability to provide an better quality of life for her baby she might consider telling him. But for right now, she did not want to share her sole reason for living. It wasn't so wrong to be selfish, was it?
So, Anna continued to keep her secret. At least, she hoped it would remain a secret for a while longer.
The club was big and dark except for the lights on the stage and bar, so she wasn't sure if the person she'd glimpsed moving through the crowd was Hilliard. Anna didn’t know if he came around any more. She couldn’t imagine him having a reason to. Not after her last goodbye. Therefore, blinded by the glare of the spotlight, Anna didn’t see Hill when he turned around for one final look at her before leaving the club - just as she and Tony began the Tom Petty and Stevie Nicks duet, Stop Dragging My Heart Around.
This time, Anna had plenty of time to spot the man standing under the parking lot light outside her personal living area at the hotel. She identified him by his pose - hands in his pockets as he leaned against the pole - rather than what she could see of him. She had her suspicions about why he was there, but didn't give them too much weight. Perhaps this was a random visit, and not the confrontation that she wasn't ready for. Honestly, she was tempted to just drive over him in order to avoid having to talk.
When she pulled into her parking space, he strolled ahead to stand outside her door. With more confidence than she felt, Anna climbed out of her car and walked to her apartment.
“What do you want?” she asked without preamble.
“To talk to you,” he replied flatly.
Alarm bells went off in her head. Admittedly she knew nothing about him, but she suspected that tone was his no-nonsense voice.
“I’m tired. It’s nearly two a.m., and I’ve got to work in the morning. Could you please delay your attempts to waste my time until I have time to waste?” she stuck her key in the door. Big mistake. Hill pushed her inside and followed. “What the-” She was genuinely terrified. What if he was a stalker? A serial killer?
In the eternal instant that it took to react and process, Anna lashed out with her keys, aiming for his eyes and praying she would wound him enough for her to escape. She cut into his brow, her downward slash was abruptly stopped by a strong hand clamped around her wrist. It came down to her or him, and by God it would be him! Anna bit into that hand, drawing blood even as her knee came up to smash between his thighs. She hadn't worked late nights for this long without knowing how to defend herself.
"What the hell-" Hill finished his outburst with a low, agonized growl through gritted teeth. The next thing he knew a ripping pain shot from his groin to his head, leaving him with just enough presence of mind not to release her.
Seeing white in his agony, Hill hauled her to the ground with him, rolling so that he lay across her torso, pinning her arms beneath his bulk. That didn't take the fight out of her, and he was in too much pain to try and calm her down. Hill rested on her body knowing she was sturdy enough to bear his weight. Like a trapped wildcat, Anna flailed. Her free forearms flew out, fingers clawing and pinching. Her teeth gnashed, biting into his shoulder. Silently, he bore it all, just grateful that his manhood was away from her knees.
"Anna! The baby!"
She froze.
When he was able to speak again, he reached beneath his stomach to press his hand against her body. “I just came to ask if you’re pregnant?” his hand slid downward until he cupped the small bulge of her belly where their child grew.
She gasped, calming at his soothing tone. “Get off me."
Warily, he complied. They shifted away from each other, Hill, scooting backwards until his back rested against the closed door. Alezanna - fighter Alezanna - crawled backwards on hands and knees until there was at least a good ten feet between them and an open room behind her. Glaring at her, he reached up and locked the door before tugging her purse closer. If he gave her an inch, she'd take an out, and they needed to talk. He just hoped she didn't have a gun hidden somewhere in this apartment.
"Anna, I want you to tell me the truth," he said. "Are you pregnant?"
They had a standoff. Both were determined to get what they wanted. Two hungry predators, they each waited for the other to make an incautious move.
"What you want doesn't matter," she replied tartly.
"Answer my question."
"You forced your way into my apartment to say I look fat? I put on a little weight, but you-”
Hill cut her off. "Anna, cut the bull. I know you’re pregnant. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her glare turned scornful. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know you had a twenty-eight inch waist," he immediately responded.
Her brows shot up and her mouth opened and closed like a fish. "How could you possibly know that? Are you some sort of stalker, breaking into people's homes?"
Guiltily, he shifted. "I sometimes wonder," he admitted under his breath. To her he said, "I did not 'break into' your home. You knew I was going to come inside the moment you saw me standing out there. As for your waist-size, believe it or not - you had my complete attention when I made love to you." He leaned forward, rolling to his knees to meet her stare. "Now fess up. You won't be able to deny the truth in a few months. Admit you'r
e pregnant." He sounded like the serpent in the garden, his voice tempting her to act against her will.
“Why should I?” she countered bravely. “It's probably not yours.”
“I’m the only partner you’ve had!” he snapped.
“That you know of. Since that night, I may have had multiple partners.”
“You work day and night. You don’t have time.” He knew he was being rude, but how dare she keep something like this from him? He deserved to be told about their child. Not to have to figure it out, or be informed by someone who'd taken one look at her and known that she was carrying his baby.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” he ground out, crawling closer even as she drew backwards.
“You‘re not the father.”
“Yet! DNA testing would stop this argument in a heartbeat,” he snapped at her. “I know you don’t sleep around. I know you don’t have time to be dating. Why-”
“It’s Rascall’s,” she blurted. “We did it a few times. And here I am.” Anna threw her hands wide.
“We’ll see,” he promised. “When that child comes, we’ll see who the courts say the father is. Some deadbeat musician, or me. No matter who you name, Anna Dux, I’m the only father that child will ever have.”
“You don’t even belong in the 'potential' father line. Just go away.” She reached out and shoved him. “Get out of my home before I call the cops.” Anna scrambled to her feet as he stood.
With one last glare in her direction, Hill opened the door and departed.
She rushed to the door and locked it; and knew she was almost back to her old self when she slid to the floor in front of it, and only a single tear fell.
"Fine. It's yours."
She stormed into his office not two days after their battle. She'd had two nights off from the club, and since there was not much else she could do at the hotel until the semester started, Anna had been left with far too much time to think.
Like before, there was no chance of Kevin stopping her. Though to give him credit, the assistant was hot on her trail.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I couldn't stop her."
The three men in his office turned in their seats when the door opened. A corner of Hill's mouth twitched, but he schooled his features before looking up from the documents and computer before him. When he did, he had to inhale deeply to rally his thoughts.
The woman had style and he had always been a sucker for red. Her dark curls cascaded over one shoulder, revealing a single rhinestone stud earring. Someday, he promised himself, she would wear diamonds. She wore a deep red suit, paired with a white and burgundy striped satin blouse. Her accessories were a black handbag - accented with a scarf that matched her blouse, and an indecent pair of black pumps with silver heels. On her left hand she wore a silver and rhinestone ring so shiny it demanded attention. Distractedly, he made a mental note that cheap rings didn't look good on her hands but big stones did. She had long, elegant fingers with wide palms and medium-length oval nails. No wonder she'd done so much damage, with nails like those. She was so beautiful, and so fierce. She was a woman a man would be proud to call his.
He sat there like an idiot for several seconds, attempting to process her words and her outfit - appreciating both. If things were different between them, he might have emptied his office and ravished her. Given her a better reason to mark him. His forehead still burned where the vicious woman had scratched him with her key. Heck! If she was his, he would not have had to ravish her on the desk because he'd have been spending his lunch hour with her planning for their child's arrival, or making love with her in bed. If she was his, he'd have wrapped up this meeting and dragged her to his home upstairs. As things were, it was all he could do not to grin like a buffoon.
Hill really hadn’t expected her to confess so easily. He’d expected a few more days, months even, of fighting; not this easy capitulation. Suddenly, he was suspicious. What if the child wasn’t his? He eyed her. She had too much attitude as she stood there with her hand on her hip and her eyes glaring at him. The kid was his. No doubt about it. She wasn't the type to lie about something like this. He knew her enough to know that.
He also knew she could hold a grudge. After all, she still hadn’t forgiven him for leaving the morning after their one night together. Someone not holding a grudge would have given him a chance to redeem himself. Fighting his smile, he rose and leisurely strolled to the door with his hands in his pockets.
"Thank you," he said.
"Well." Her eyes darted over the other men in the office as they curiously surveyed her. "Now you know. I'll inform you when it arrives."
“I’ll see you around, Anna,” he bent and kissed her forehead. Chances were she'd bite him again if he went anywhere near her mouth. As it was, he still had bruises, and dashes shaped like ovals and half-moons on his arms and torso. And the near miss of a black eye on his brow. Someday, he'd make her pay for that. Someday, he'd teach her to react with eagerness and not apprehension whenever he drew close.
“Goodbye, Hilliard.”
Hill shook his head contemplatively as he returned to his desk. He had his work cut out for him.
The next morning, Anna was partially under her car, fixing a knocking she’d been hearing for a few months now. She'd wanted to get it out of the way before she would be unable to attend to it on her own. Her little mound of a belly was too tall to put under the body of the car, so it and her legs stuck out.
“What the hell are you doing?” the owner of a pair of running shoes and the nicest calves she’d ever seen, shouted.
She felt her blanket and creeper - ergo, herself - being pulled from beneath the jalopy. When she could see his face, Anna realized she wasn’t the only one fuming.
“Only a real idiot would pull somebody from under a car like that. You don’t know where my hand was. I could have been hurt. Who told you to touch me? Did I invite you to haul me from under the car like a sack of potatoes? What is your problem? Why do you keep showing up? Haven’t I made myself clear? Should I spell it out for you? I DON’T LIKE YOU! I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!”
Hill glared down at her as she struggled to sit up. He wondered if he was a masochist. She had the mean attitude of a hungry grizzly, but he just kept coming back for more.
“Only a real idiot would endanger herself and her kid by crawling under a car like that. Here’s an idea. Take the car to a mechanic. Better yet. Get rid of this rust bucket.” If he wasn’t so angry, he would be amused by the fact that she had to roll to her knees and pull herself up using the door in order to stand. Her belly wasn’t even that big. It just made her ungainly.
When she stood facing him, Anna propped her greasy hands on her hips and glared. “I told you what you wanted to hear. Why are you here again?”
“I came to talk about the baby.”
“It’s in my stomach. Got a few more months before it comes out.” She pulled a rag from the back of her jeans and began wiping her hands.
“Duh!” he mumbled. “Can we go inside? It’s hot as heck out here.”
“I don’t want you in my home. I’ve told you what you need to know.”
“I wonder why I never realized you can be such a bitch.”
Anna, who was lowering the jack, froze. Slowly, her head swiveled so she could glare at him over her shoulder. “Did you just call me a bitch?”
“You’re acting like one," he defended. "I’m trying to talk t-”
“And when,” she cut him off, “did you ever have a conversation with a female dog. Because, they’re the only bitches I know of.”
He turned his back on her and began storing her equipment in the open trunk of her car. “That nasty attitude of yours is real bitchy. You just keep barking and growling and snapping like a bitch. If you don't want me making a comparison, then stop acting like one. Finish lowering the car and roll me the jack.”
“If you don’t like my attitude, then avoid my company. Stop seeking me out.”
?
??Not an option.” He came around the car and lowered it for her. Deftly, he packed the hydraulic jack back into its case. What kind of woman owns a hydraulic jack? he wondered. Then he began wondering if he owned one. Once everything was secured, he grabbed her above the elbow and dragged her to the door of her apartment. She didn’t go quietly.
“When was the last time you saw the doctor?” he queried over her demands to be released.
She glared at him mutinously.
“Answer me, Anna.” He didn’t need to shout. Somewhere in that thick head of hers, she understood that the quieter he became, the angrier he was.
“That day.”
“What day?”
“The day I fainted.”
“The day you found out you were carrying my child?” he asked. “The day you kicked me out of your life? Is it that day you are talking about, Alezanna?”
“How did you find out about the baby? I didn’t tell anyone.”
“I saw you at the club.”
“Oh, it was you.”
“You saw me?”
“Maybe.”
“Hmm!”
“Still, I try to hide the belly. You must have been looking real close to notice it.”
Not as close as I would have liked, he thought. He smiled thinly. “I notice everything about you. Tragic, isn't it?” Hill took her over to the kitchen sink and started washing the grease from her hands like she was a toddler. While he was at it, he inhaled the scent of her shampoo. She smelled clean and fresh. Her hands were slightly calloused, rough in patches despite her nails being perfectly groomed. They weren’t delicate hands, nor were they manly. Lust-inducing, yes. But more than that. They were… capable. Which made him like them even more.
When he was done, she pulled her hands away from him and went to the refrigerator to collect the jug of filtered water. Seeing that she was not about to offer him refreshment, Hill took the pitcher from her and poured himself some. She rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything.