Читать книгу Welcome to Mills & Boon - Jennifer Rae - Страница 14

CHAPTER FIVE

“WOW. YOU’RE NOT looking so great.”

The girl sitting beside me on one of the plastic chairs lining the hallway had a concerned look on her beautifully made-up face.

“I’m fine,” I replied, trying to breathe slowly, fervently trying to believe it. It had been two months since we’d arrived in London, and I’d felt strangely queasy, almost from the day we’d arrived here. I’d thought it was from fear, and also the guilt of lying to Edward about how I actually spent my days. But today, I’d finally faced my fear. For the first time, I was actually forcing myself to stay through an audition, rather than chickening out and fleeing for Trafalgar Square like a safely anonymous tourist.

For an hour, I’d sat here in the hallway, practicing my lines in my head and waiting for them to call my name. Shouldn’t the queasy feeling have gone away?

Instead, it had only increased as I waited backstage at a small, prestigious West End theater, surrounded by beautiful, professional-looking actors, who were loudly practicing their lines and doing elocution exercises, and taking no notice of me whatsoever. Except for the American girl sitting next to me.

“Are you feeling sick?” she asked now.

“Just nerves,” I said weakly.

“You look like you ate a bad curry. Or else it’s the flu.” Wrinkling her nose, she leaned away from me ever so slightly. “My sister looked like that the first three months she was pregnant....”

“I’m fine,” I repeated sharply, then swallowed, my head falling back as another wave of nausea went through me.

So much for my acting skills. Clearly not fooled, the girl looked nervously from side to side. “Oh. Good. Well. Um... Please excuse me. I have to practice my lines...over there.”

Getting up, she left in a hurry, as if she’d found herself sitting next to Typhoid Mary. I couldn’t blame her, because I felt perilously close to throwing up. Leaning my head against the wall, I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. I was so close to auditioning now. In a moment, they would call my name. I would speak my lines on the stage.

Then the casting agents would tell me that I sucked. It would be hideous and soul-crushing but at least I could slink home afterward and no longer be lying when I told Edward that while he was working eighteen-hour days at his office in Canary Wharf, I’d spent the day pursuing my dreams.

Just a few minutes more, and it would be over. I tried to breathe. They would probably cut me off halfway through my lines, in fact, and tell me I was too fat/thin/old/young/wrong, or just dismiss me with a curt Thank you. All I needed to do was speak a few lines and...

My lines. My eyes flew open as I slapped my hand on my forehead. What were my lines? I’d practiced them for two days, practiced them in the shower and as I walked through the barren garden behind Edward’s lavish Kensington townhouse. I knew those lines by heart. But they’d fled completely out of my brain and...

Then I really did feel sick and I raced for the adjacent bathroom, reaching it just in time. Afterward, I splashed cold water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked pale and sweaty. My eyes looked big and afraid.

My sister looked like that the first three months she was pregnant.

Leaving the bathroom, I walked out to the hallway. Then I kept walking, straight out of the theater, until I was outside breathing fresh, cold air.

My nausea subsided a bit. The sky was dark and overcast, not cold enough to snow but threatening chilling rain.

It was the first of March, but spring still felt far away. I walked slowly for the underground station, my legs trembling.

My sister looked like that the first three months she was pregnant.

The possibility of pregnancy hadn’t even occurred to me. I carefully hadn’t let it occur to me. I couldn’t be pregnant. It was impossible.

I stopped abruptly on the sidewalk, causing the tourists behind me to exclaim as they nearly walked into me.

Edward had gone out of his way to take precautions. But I hadn’t even worried about it, because I assumed Edward knew what he was doing. He was the one who never wanted to commit to anyone, and what could be a greater commitment than a child?

But there had been a few near misses. A few times he didn’t put on the condom until almost too late. And that one time in the shower...

Feeling dazed, I walked heavily to Charing Cross station nearby and barely managed to get on the right train. I stared at the map above the seats as the subway car swayed. My cycle was late. In fact, I realized with a sense of chill, I hadn’t had a period since we’d arrived in London two months ago. There could be all kinds of reasons for that. I was stressed by my halfhearted attempts at breaking into the London theater scene. I was stressed by the fact that I was lying to Edward about it. And then there was the nausea. I’d told myself my body was still growing accustomed to Greenwich Mean Time, or as the girl had suggested, I’d eaten a bad fish vindaloo.

All right, so my breasts felt fuller, and they’d been heavy and a little sore. But—I blushed—I’d assumed that was just from all the sex. The rough play at night was almost the only time I ever saw Edward anymore.

Every morning, his driver collected him before dawn to take him to his building in Canary Wharf, gleaming and modern, with a private shower and futon in his private office suite, and four PAs to service his every whim. Battling to save the deal that his cousin was trying to sabotage, he’d worked eighteen hours a day, Sundays included, and usually didn’t return until long after I was in bed. Some nights he never bothered to come home at all.

But on the rest, Edward woke me up in the dark to make love to me. A bright, hot fire in the night, when his powerful body took mine with hungry, insatiable demand. Sometime before dawn, I’d feel him kiss my temple, hear him whisper, Good luck today. I’m proud of you. Half-asleep, I’d sigh back, Good luck, and then he was gone. I’d awake in the morning with sunlight slanting through the windows, and his side of the bed empty. And I would be alone.

My days in London were lonely. I missed the life we’d had in Cornwall. I missed Penryth Hall.

Everything had changed.

Was it about to change more?

Distracted by my thoughts, I almost missed my stop at High Street Kensington. I exited the underground station and then, not daring to meet the pimply sales clerk’s eyes, I bought a pregnancy test from the pharmacy on the corner.

Edward had offered his driver’s services to take me to auditions, but I didn’t think it would do me any favors to arrive via chauffeured car, like the kept woman I’d somehow become. Plus, then I would have had to actually go to the auditions. Easier to take the underground and keep my independence—and my secrets. I didn’t want Edward to feel disappointed in me, as he would if he knew I hadn’t made it to a single audition in two months, in spite of all my bravado.

I hadn’t wanted a driver then, but now, as I trudged up the street with my pharmacy bag tucked into my purse, the cold gray drizzle turned to half-frozen rain, soaking through my light cotton jacket, and I suddenly wished I had someone to look after me. Someone who would take me in his arms and tell me everything was going to be all right. Because I was scared.

I reached Edward’s beautiful Georgian townhouse, with its five bedrooms and private garden, in an elegant neighborhood a few blocks from Kensington Palace. Heavily, I walked up the steps and punched the security code, then opened the front door.

“Diana?” Mrs. Corrigan’s voice called from the kitchen. “Is that you, dear?”

“Yes,” I said dully. No need to panic, I told myself. I’d take the pregnancy test. Once it said negative, I’d relax, and have a good laugh at my fears, along with a calming glass of wine.

“Come back,” she called. “I’m in the kitchen.”

“Just a minute.” I went to the front bathroom. Trembling, I took the test. I waited. And waited. Be negative, I willed, staring down at it. Be negative.

The test looked back at me.

Positive.

The test fell from my numb hand. Then I grabbed it and looked at it again. Still positive. I stuffed it at the bottom of the trash, hiding it beneath the empty bag. Which was ridiculous.

Soon there would be no hiding it.

Pregnant. My teeth chattered as I stumbled slowly down the hall to the large modern kitchen at the back. Pregnant.

I looked out the big windows by the kitchen, overlooking the private garden that would be beautiful in spring, but at the moment was bleak and bare and covered with shards of melting snow.

“There you are, dear.” Mrs. Corrigan, his full-time London housekeeper, was making a lemon cake. “Mr. St. Cyr just phoned for you.”

“He called here?” My heart unfolded like a flower. Edward had never called me from work before. Had he somehow known I needed him, felt it in his heart?

She looked up a little reproachfully from the bowl. “He was dismayed that he couldn’t reach you on your mobile.”

“Um...” The sleek new cell phone he’d bought for me last month was still sitting on the granite kitchen countertop, plugged in, exactly where I’d left it two days ago. “I’ll phone him back now.”

My hands shook as I walked down the hall to his study, closing the door behind me. Dialing his number, I listened to the phone ring, in that distinctly British sound, reminding me I was a long way from home. And so did the fact that I needed to navigate through two different secretaries before I finally heard Edward’s voice.

“Why didn’t you answer your mobile?” he demanded by way of greeting.

“I’m sorry, I forgot it. I was at an audition and...” My voice trembled.

“The deal just went through.”

His voice sounded so flat, it took me a moment to realize that he was calling to share good news. “That’s wonderful! Congratulations!” I said brightly. My heart was pounding in my throat. “But, um, we need to talk—”

“Yes, we do,” he said shortly. “There’s going to be a party tonight hosted by Rupert’s wife, at their house in Mayfair. Wear a cocktail dress. Be ready at eight.”

Rupert’s wife. Victoria. I’d met her a few times. She was mean. I took a deep breath. “I’ll be ready. But something has happened today, Edward. Something really important you should know about.” I paused, but he didn’t say anything. “Edward?”

It took me several seconds to realize he’d already hung up. Incredulously, I stared down at my cell phone.

“Everything all right, dear?” Mrs. Corrigan said cheerily as I came out of the study.

This is all I can give you, Edward had said, the night he took my virginity. No marriage. No children. All I can offer is—this.

It was more true than I’d realized. Because sex was truly all he gave me now. Sex that felt almost anonymous in the dark shadows of our bed. Sex, and a beautiful house to live in while I attempted to create the acting career that was supposedly my Big Dream. Except it made me sick.

Or maybe it was the pregnancy doing that.

What would he say when he found out? Would he be furious? Indifferent? Would he think I’d somehow done it on purpose? Would he ask me to end the pregnancy?

No way. My hands unwillingly went to my slightly curved belly. Even in my shock, I already knew that I was keeping this baby. There was no other option for me.

But I was scared of his reaction.

I feared I already knew what it would be.

Mrs. Corrigan was whipping the frosting, humming merrily as I walked into the kitchen. Her plump cheeks were rosy. “Such an afternoon it is!” she sighed, looking out the windows. “Rain and more rain.” She looked at me. “Would you care for some tea? Or maybe some food, you’re looking skin and bone,” she chided affectionately.

Skin and bone? I looked down at my full breasts, my plump hips. At my belly, which would soon be enormous. I felt another strange twinge of queasiness that I now knew was morning sickness. “Um, thanks, but I’m not hungry. Edward’s taking me to a party tonight, to celebrate that his deal just went through—”

“Wonderful!”

“Yes. It is.” Not so wonderful that I’d be spending time with his friends. All those bankers and their wives, and the worst of them all, Rupert and his wife, Snooty McSnotty. A low buzz of anxiety rolled through me, heavy gray clouds through my soul with lightning and rain.

And at that thought, thunder really did boom outside, so loud it shook the china cup in its saucer as the housekeeper poured me tea.

“Ooh,” said Mrs. Corrigan with a shiver, “that was a good one, wasn’t it?”

The rain continued all afternoon and into the evening. I paced the floor, tried to read, had to reread every page six times as my mind wandered. I managed some bread and cheese for dinner, and a little bit of lemon cake. I went upstairs and showered and dressed. I blow-dried my hair, making it lustrous and straight. I put on makeup. I put on the designer cocktail dress he’d bought me. It was tighter and skimpier than anything I’d ever worn before. Especially now. For heaven’s sake, how could I not have noticed my breasts were this big?

I was ready early, at seven forty-five. Going into the front room, I sat shivering on the sofa as I waited. Outside, the traffic had dissipated, and the street was dark. Beneath the rain, puddles shone dull silver against the street lights. I waited.

It wasn’t until an hour later, almost nine, that I heard the front door slam. He ran upstairs, calling my name.

“I’m in here.”

“Sitting in the dark?” he growled. Coming into the front room, he clicked on a light, glowering at me. “What are you doing, Diana?”

I blinked, squinting in the light. “I just didn’t notice.”

“Didn’t notice?” Edward looked handsome, British and rich, a million miles out of my league in his tailored suit and tie. A warrior tycoon ready to do battle by any means—with his fists, if necessary.

But his eyes looked tired. I suddenly yearned to take him in my arms, to make him feel better. But I doubted my news would do that.

“Edward.” I swallowed. “We need to talk....”

“We’re late,” he said shortly. “I need to change.”

Turning, he raced back up the stairs, his long legs taking the steps three at a time. He seemed in foul temper for a CEO that had just made a billion-dollar deal. In record time, he returned downstairs, wearing a designer tuxedo, and looking more devilishly handsome than any man should look. I felt a sudden ache in my heart. “You look very handsome.”

“Thanks.” He didn’t return the compliment. Instead, his lips twisted down grimly as he held out my long black coat, wrapping it around my shoulders. His voice was cold. “Ready?”

“Yes,” I said, although I’d never felt less ready in my life. We left the house, getting into the backseat of the waiting car.

“How was your audition today?” he asked abruptly as his driver closed the car door.

As the driver pulled the car smoothly from the curb, I looked at Edward, suddenly uneasy. I licked my lips. “It was...surprising, actually.”

“You’re lying,” he said flatly. “You didn’t even go.”

“I did go,” I said indignantly. “I just didn’t stay, because... Wait.” I frowned. “How do you know?”

“The director is a friend of mine. He was going to give you special consideration.” Edward glared at me. “He called me this afternoon to say you never even bothered to show. You lied to me.” He tilted his head. “And this isn’t the first time, is it?”

Lifting my chin, I looked him full in the face. “I haven’t done a single audition since we got here.”

He looked staggered. “Why?”

I tried to shrug, to act like it didn’t matter. “I didn’t feel like it.”

His jaw tightened. “So you’ve lied to me for the last two months. And every morning before I left for work, I wished you good luck... I feel like a fool. Why did you lie?”

As the car wove through the Friday evening traffic on Kensington Road, I saw the Albert Memorial in Kensington Gardens, the ornate monument to Queen Victoria’s young husband whom she’d mourned for forty years after he died. I took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Well, you have.” His jaw went tight as he looked out at the passing lights of the city reflected in the rain. We turned north, toward Mayfair. “I didn’t take you for a liar. Or a coward.”

It was like being stabbed in the heart. I took a shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me the director was your friend?”

“I wanted you to think you’d gotten the part on your own.”

“Because you think I can’t?”

He shook his head grimly. “You hadn’t gotten a single role. I thought I could help. I didn’t tell you because...” He set his jaw. “It just feels better to be self-made.”

“How would you know?” I cried.

I regretted the words the instant they were out of my mouth. Hurt pride had made me cruel. But as I opened my mouth to apologize, the car stopped. Our door opened.

Edward gave me a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “Time to party.”

He held out his arm stiffly on the sidewalk. I took it, feeling wretched and angry and ashamed all at once. We walked into the party, past a uniformed doorman.

Rupert St. Cyr, Edward’s cousin, had a lavish mansion, complete with an indoor pool, a five-thousand-bottle wine cellar, a huge gilded ballroom with enormous crystal chandeliers hanging from a forty-foot ceiling and very glamorous, wealthy people dancing to a jazz quartet.

“Congratulations!”

“You old devil, I don’t know how you did it. Well done.”

Edward smiled and nodded distantly as people came up to congratulate him on the business deal. I clutched his arm as we walked toward the coat room.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry I ever tried to help you,” he said under his breath.

“I shouldn’t have lied to you.” I bit my lip. “But something happened at the audition today, something that you should...”

“Spare me the excuses,” he bit out. He narrowed his eyes. “This is exactly why I usually end love affairs after a few weeks. Before all the lies can start!”

I stopped, feeling sick and dizzy. “You’re threatening to break up with me? Just because I didn’t go to auditions?”

“Because you lied to my face about it,” he said in a low voice, his eyes shooting sparks of blue fire. “I don’t give a damn what you do. If you don’t want to act, be a ditchdigger, child minder, work in a shop. Stay at home and do nothing for all I care. Just be honest about it.”

“Auditioning is so hard,” I choked out. I knew I wasn’t doing myself any favors trying to explain but I couldn’t help it. “Facing brutal rejection, day after day. I have no friends here. No connections.”

His eyes narrowed as he stared at me. “You wish you were back in L.A. Is that what you’re saying?”

His expression looked so strange, I hardly knew what to say. “Yes. I mean, no....”

Beneath the gilded chandeliers of the ballroom, Edward’s expression hardened. So did his voice. “If you want to go, then go.”

I shriveled up inside.

Turning, he left the coat room, leaving me to trail behind him.

“Edward!” I heard a throaty coo, and looking up, I saw Victoria St. Cyr coming toward us. “And Diana. What a pleasant surprise.” Insultingly, she looked me up and down, and my cheeks went hot. My cocktail dress that had seemed so daring and sexy suddenly felt like layers of tacky trash bags twisted tightly around my zaftig body, especially compared to the elegantly draped gray dress over her severely thin frame. She bared her teeth into a smile. “How very...charming that you’re still with us. And surprising.”

Things only went downhill from there.

I did not fit into Edward’s world. I felt insecure and out of place. Clutching his arm, I clung to him pathetically as he walked through the party. Even as he drank short glasses of port with the other men, and traded verbal barbs with his cousin, I tried to be part of the conversation, to act as if I belonged. To act as if my heart weren’t breaking.

And Edward acted as if I weren’t there, holding his arm tightly. Finally, my pride couldn’t take it.

“Excuse me,” I murmured, forcing my hands off his arm. “I need a drink.”

“I’ll get it for you,” Edward said politely, as if I were a stranger, some old lady on the subway.

“No.” I held up my hand. “I, um, see someone I need to talk to. Excuse me.”

Was that relief I saw in his eyes as I walked away?

Awkwardly, I glanced toward Victoria St. Cyr and her friends standing by the dance floor. Turning the other way, I headed toward the buffet table. At least here I knew what to do. Grabbing a plate, I helped myself to crackers, bread, cheese—anything that promised to settle this sick feeling in my belly.

Was there any point in telling Edward I was pregnant, when it was clear he was already thinking up excuses to end our relationship?

“It won’t last.”

Victoria stood behind me, with two of her friends.

I stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t mind her,” one of the friends said. “She’s not used to seeing Edward with a girlfriend.”

Girlfriend made it sound like we were exclusive. Which we weren’t. Well, obviously I was not dating anyone else. Was he?

My breath caught in my throat as I suddenly looked at all his late nights in a brand new light. The nights he hadn’t even come home, when I’d assumed he was at work...could he have been with someone else? He’d never promised me fidelity, after all. I hadn’t received a single word of commitment or love. In fact, he’d promised me the opposite.

“I wouldn’t say I’m his girlfriend,” I said thickly.

Victoria pounced. “What are you then?”

“His, um, physical therapist.”

They all stared at me, then burst out laughing.

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now,” one said knowingly.

“It’s true.” At least it used to be true. “Edward was in a car accident in September...”

“That’s right.” Victoria St. Cyr looked at me thoughtfully. Diamond bangles clacked over the music of the nearby quartet as she held up her hand. “Doesn’t that all make you worry?”

“What?”

“Edward’s accident.” She sighed. “He was so in love with that American maid who worked at a nearby house.” She looked me over insultingly. “She looked rather like you, in fact. When she fell pregnant, he helped her leave London and flew her all over the world for a year. But when she had the chance to marry the father of her baby, she dropped Edward without a thought.”

“The other man was a Spanish duke,” her friend added, as if that explained everything.

“Edward actually tried to blackmail her into leaving her new husband—and her baby. Fortunately, the car flipped down the hill. But if the Duke and Duchess of Alzacar had pressed charges, Edward would be in jail.” Shaking her head, she said coldly, “He should be in jail. Rupert should be CEO.”

Did she think this new knowledge would devastate me? “I know all that,” I said coldly, though I was shaking. “And you’re wrong. Whatever mistakes Edward made in the past, he deserves to lead St. Cyr Global. He’d never sink a billion-pound deal like his cousin tried to do.” I drew myself up. “He’s twice the man your husband is.”

Victoria stared at me dangerously.

“Your loyalty is adorable,” she said softly. “But let me offer you a little friendly advice.”

Friendly? Right. I said guardedly, “Yes?”

“I understand your attraction. Truly, I do. The night I met Edward, I wanted him so badly, I would have done anything to get into his bed. Anything.” Her lips pursed. “Luckily I met Rupert before any damage could be done.”

“Your point?”

Her thin lips curled. “Edward is poison for women. You’ll see. He keeps a lover just long enough to use her body and break her heart before he tosses her in the rubbish bin. How long have you two been together now? Two months? Three?” She shook her head with a pitying sound. “You’re long past your sell-by date. Here.” She pushed a card into my hands. “Call me when you need a shoulder to cry on.”

And she swept past me grandly, her entourage trailing behind her.

Numbly, I looked down at the embossed card. It was like a business card, only gilded and elegant and clearly for society. It was the craziest thing I’d ever seen.

Crumpling the card into a ball, I shoved it in my purse. Even living among the sharks of the entertainment industry hadn’t prepared me for this. Edward’s family was awful. No wonder he’d been a sitting duck for the first reasonably kindhearted person he met—that American girl he hadn’t wanted to let go. Because he loved her so much.

While he was ready to dump me for a white lie I’d told, just because I’d wanted so desperately for him to think the best of me.

Turning blindly from the buffet, I ran into a brick wall. Edward was standing behind me. I wondered how long he’d been there.

“Having a good time?” he asked, his face inscrutable.

“No,” I choked out.

“It might be better with champagne.”

“I don’t want any.” I looked up at his handsome face. Was he already trying to figure out how best to end our relationship? How to let me down easy, and without a fuss?

I wanted him to love me. I wanted him to hold me close and never let go. Everything he’d told me—from the beginning—would never happen. Stupid. So stupid!

My voice was nearly a sob. “I just want to go home.”

For a long moment, Edward just looked at me. All around us in the ballroom, beautiful, glamorous people were laughing and talking, celebrating, and a few had started dancing to the music from the quartet. But as he looked into my tearful eyes, for a split second it was as if the two of us were alone again. Just like at Penryth Hall.

“All right,” he said quietly. Taking my hand, he pulled me from the ballroom, stopping for my coat. His driver collected us at the curb.

The streets of London seemed darker than usual. The rain had stopped, and the clouds had lifted. The night was frosty and soundless.

We walked into his dark, silent house after he punched in the alarm code. I started to go up the stairs. He stopped me.

“I never told you,” he said huskily, pulling me into his arms, “how beautiful you looked tonight.”

My heart went faster. “I did?”

“The most beautiful woman there by far.” Pulling me closer, he twirled a long tendril of my hair around his finger and murmured, “I was glad when you left to get a drink, because the other men were flirting with you so indecently I thought I’d have to punch them.”

“They were flirting with me?” I said dumbly. I had no memory of any of this alleged flirting, or of any of the men who’d surrounded us. I just remembered clinging to Edward’s arm like a silent idiot.

“Any man would want you.” His hand traced up my shoulder, my neck. “You’re the most desirable woman I’ve ever known.”

“More than the woman you loved in Spain?” I heard myself blurt out.

His hand grew still. His ice-blue eyes met mine. “Why do you say that?”

I swallowed. But I couldn’t back down now. “Victoria told me you took care of her for a year, helping her when she was pregnant. After she married someone else, you still loved her. You wouldn’t let her go. You were willing to die for her.” I stopped.

“So?” He spoke without apology, and without explanation. As if he owed me neither. It made my heart turn to glass.

I took a deep breath. “Is it true she looked like me?”

His dark eyebrows lowered. “Victoria said that?”

“Yes.”

“She was guessing.” His lips creased in a humorless smile. “She never met Lena. But it happens she’s wrong. You look nothing alike.”

I exhaled. Then I shivered. Lena. So that was the other woman’s name. “What made you love her so much?”

His eyes narrowed. “Why do you keep pushing?”

“Because I...”

I froze.

Because I wanted to know what special quality this woman had had, that had made Edward love her so much, when he couldn’t even love me a little. Had she been pretty? Had she been wise? Was it the sound of her voice or the scent of her perfume?

I wanted to know because at my deepest core, I yearned for him to love me the same way. I yearned for him to want to be with me. To stay with me. Raise a child with me.

I was in love with him, and wanted him to love me back.

My infatuation with Jason had been nothing, a schoolgirl crush, compared to what I felt for Edward, the man I’d healed, the man I’d shared a home with, the man who’d teased me and encouraged me and demanded I follow my dreams. The man who’d taken my virginity and shown me what physical love could be. The man whose child I now carried deep inside me.

I was in love with Edward.

Desperately.

Stupidly.

“Diana?”

I took a deep breath. “I was just curious, that’s all.” I gave him a weak smile. “After hearing Victoria talk about her. What made Lena so different?”

“Different?” Moonlight from the window caught the edge of his face, leaving his eyes in shadow. “Lena wasn’t different. She was ordinary, really. But she acted helpless, as if I were the only one who could save her. She made me think...I could be her hero.” His cruel, sensual lips twisted up at the edges. “Me. Isn’t that hilarious? But I almost believed it. I took care of her for months, asking nothing in return. Until she suddenly left me for the Spanish bastard who’d abandoned and betrayed her.”

“That’s it? She acted helpless?” I could be helpless, I thought wildly. I felt helpless right now, looking at him, fearing there was nothing I could do to make him love me or want our baby.

He shrugged. “I thought I deserved her. That I’d earned her.”

I blinked. “You can’t earn someone’s love. That’s not how it works.”

He gave a harsh laugh. “I’ve heard the words I love you from so many women...”

“You have?” I whispered. No one had ever spoken those words to me, except for my family.

“...but words are meaningless. Cheap. Women have said it after they’ve only known me a few hours—in bed. They barely knew me at all. They were just trying to trap me, to make me do something I didn’t want to do. To own me.”

“You mean, make you commit?”

“Exactly.” He gave me a crooked grin, then looked away. “But I always imagined love to be an action, not a word. If I loved someone, I wouldn’t say it, I’d show it. I’d take care of her, putting her needs ahead of my own. I’d put my whole soul into making her happy....” He cut himself off with a harsh laugh, clawing back his hair. “But what the hell do I know? I’ve never found love like that. So I gave up on it. And I’ve been happier ever since.”

“I don’t believe that,” I said softly, looking at the stark emotion in his eyes. “I’m sorry that woman hurt you, but you can’t live the rest of your life closed off from love.”

“You’re wrong,” he said flatly.

Clutching my hands into fists at my sides, I whispered, “Do you still love her?”

He choked out a laugh. “Love her? No. It all seems a million years ago. I was a different person then. I’m leaving them to it. The Duke and Duchess of Alzacar are happy together, with their fat, happy baby, happily married in their big castle in happy, happy Spain. I wish them every happiness.”

His voice had an edge to it. A darkness. I searched his handsome face. “You’re sorry you tried to kidnap her...Aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry I ever let myself care in the first place,” he said coldly. “I should have known better than to think I could be any woman’s hero. It’s not in my nature. Now...I know who I am. Selfish to the core. And glad. My life is completely within my control.”

Looking up at him, my glass heart broke into a thousand shards, each of them sharp as ice. “So you’ll never have a wife—no child—no family of any kind?”

“I told you from the beginning,” he said harshly. “Those are things I do not want. Not now. Not ever.” With a deep breath, he took a step toward me. Gently, he cupped my cheek with his hand. “But I do want this. You. We can enjoy each other. For as long as the pleasure lasts.”

His palm was warm and rough against my cheek, and I suddenly felt like crying. “It could be more. You have to know—”

He was already shaking his head grimly. “Don’t do this to me, Diana. Let this be enough. Don’t ask for more than I can give. Please. I’m not ready to let you go. Not yet—”

Pulling me tight against his hard-muscled body, he kissed me passionately in the shadowy stairwell of the Kensington townhouse.

I knew I should stop him, to force him to listen, to tell him the two things that were causing such anguish—joy, terror, desperate hope—in my heart.

I loved him.

I was pregnant with his baby.

But I was scared the moment I told him, our relationship would end. He’d see me and the child I carried both as unwanted entanglements. Because he’d already made up his mind about what he wanted. And what he didn’t want.

He wasn’t going to change.

Holding him tightly, I returned his kiss. Tears streaming unchecked down my cheeks, adding salt to the taste. His lips gentled as he pressed me back against the wall of the stairwell. My head fell back as he kissed down my throat. I gasped, trembling, caught between desire and the agony of a breaking heart. How could I realize I loved him, only to lose him the same night? Blood rushed in my ears like a rhythmic buzz.

Edward pulled away with a curse, and I realized the buzz was actually his phone ringing. But who would call him so late? A business emergency? A secretary?

A mistress?

No. Surely not. But we’d never promised fidelity. He’d promised only pleasure.

“It’s not me,” he said shortly, looking at his phone.

Frowning, I reached down for my tiny purse that had dropped to the floor, and saw it was actually my new phone ringing. But other than Edward, the only person who knew the number was my stepfather, who’d just wrapped up production in New Mexico.

I stared down at the caller ID.

“It’s Jason,” I breathed.

“Black?” Edward’s scowl deepened. “Why is he calling you?”

“I have no idea.”

“Has he done it before?” he bit out, almost unwillingly.

I shook my head. “Something must be wrong... Oh my God.” Images of Howard or Madison hurt flashed in front of my terrified eyes. Turning away, I answered anxiously, “Jason?”

“Diana?”

“Why are you calling me?”

“I’m in California... I got the number from Howard.”

“What’s happened? Is someone hurt?”

“Yeah. Someone’s hurt.”

I held my breath.

“I am,” he said quietly. “I made a horrible mistake.”

I frowned. “What do you mean, you made a mistake?”

Edward had been glowering beside me. But at this, he turned on his heel without a word. I watched him stalk up the staircase. Was he mad at me for answering a call in the middle of our kiss? But that wasn’t fair. He was the one who’d picked up his phone first.

“I shouldn’t have cheated on you,” Jason said on the phone. “I should have known we’d get caught. Even at night, there’s always people around the Eiffel Tower. I have so many regrets. I should have...” His voice trailed off. “You know Madison and I broke up.”

“I know,” I said gently.

He exhaled. “Is there any way you can ever forgive me?”

“Sure.”

He paused. “Really?”

I realized somewhat to my own surprise that I’d forgiven and forgotten long ago. The way I felt for Edward now, all the angst over Jason seemed a million years ago. It didn’t matter. As Edward had said—I was a different person then.

“I forgave you a long time ago....” I said quietly.

“Oh?” he said hopefully.

“Because I’m in love with Edward now.”

“Oh,” he sighed.

I changed the subject. “But is there any chance that you and Madison...?”

“Nah. She disappeared to India when we broke up. Now I heard she’s in Mongolia doing some independent film, out on some steppe in the middle of nowhere, no makeup trailer, no catering, getting paid at scale.”

“Seriously?” That didn’t sound like her at all.

“Crazy, right? Must be a nervous breakdown or something. At least, that’s what I suggested when I was interviewed last week for People magazine.”

He was giving interviews about Madison, suggesting she’d had a nervous breakdown? I didn’t approve of that at all. I thought of Edward, waiting for me upstairs. “If that’s all you called about...”

“No. Here’s why I called. I’m costarring on a web series. It’s just a side project, a spin-off to promote my movie sequel coming out next summer. But the lead actress just ducked out an hour ago to go back to rehab.” He paused. “I thought of you.”

“You...what?” I said faintly.

“Don’t get too excited. The pay is next to nothing. But the movie has a large cult following, and good visibility. So even though it’s just on the web, it could help you get the attention of agents....”

As he continued to speak, I stood in the dark foyer, swaying. I felt lightheaded.

“...and you wouldn’t even have to audition. I have that much pull, at least.” He paused. “Diana? You still there?”

“I just can’t believe it,” I whispered. My hand tightened on the phone. “You’re calling out of nowhere to offer me my dream job?”

“Dream job?” He laughed “Oh man. If a shoestring web series is your dream, you need bigger dreams.” He added apologetically, “It’s not glamorous, either. The character is pregnant. You’d need to wear padding....”

I put my hand against the wall to brace myself. “Are you kidding?” Pregnant? Was it fate telling me to go? I said almost tearfully, “Why are you doing this?”

“Well, I owe you, Diana,” he said quietly. “After all I put you through, it seemed the least I could do. Plus,” he added, “I’d rather work with you than some no-name nobody. Will you come?”

I thought again of Edward upstairs, waiting for me, and my heart twisted. “I’m not sure....”

“I understand,” he said dryly. “Edward doesn’t seem like the California type.” He paused. “It’s up to you. But if you can get here within two days, the role is yours.”

When I hung up the phone, the house was silent and dark. Mrs. Corrigan had gone to bed long ago, before we even got home from the party. It was the first time I’d been downstairs like this, with Edward up in our bedroom. Usually I was the one to sleep alone.

California. The memory of home came back to me. Sunshine. The ocean. The scent of roses in my mother’s garden. I could have my dream job there, with my friends and family around me, raising my baby....

Except this wasn’t just my baby. It was our baby. And no matter how scared I was, I had to tell Edward about it. I had to at least give him the chance to be part of our lives. And tell him I loved him. Right now.

But as I slowly went up the stairs, my heart was in my throat.

A baby. I gripped the slender oak handrail as I climbed, each shaking step echoing across the dark house. A sweet, precious baby. Would he be a little boy with Edward’s eyes? An adorable little girl with his smile?

Then I remembered my promise.

This is all I can give you, he’d said. No marriage. No children. All I can offer is—this. Do you agree?

An ache lifted to my throat. I was kidding myself if I thought Edward would be happy about this. He didn’t want my love. He didn’t want my child. He wanted convenient sex, and to leave if it got complicated.

I covered my mouth with my hand. Please let him be happy about my news. Give me the chance to show him how to love again....

My legs shook as I walked down the dark hallway. I stopped at our bedroom door.

“You’ve kept me waiting.” Edward’s voice was accusing from the shadows. “Come to bed, Diana.”

Come to bed. I swallowed. Clenching my trembling hands at my sides, I went forward.

As my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the bedroom, I saw the large shape of him, lying on the bed. His long legs were crossed, his arms folded beneath his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He was still fully clothed in his tuxedo, with only his tie loosened.

“How is Jason?” he said coldly, still staring up at the ceiling.

I stopped. The two men were not exactly close friends. More like rivals, really, though I had no idea what they might be rivals about. I said haltingly, “He’s all right.”

“I bet.” With a low laugh, Edward sat up on the bed. He turned to face me. The hard lines of his body and face were in shadow, but I saw the glitter of his eyes. “So he made a big mistake, did he?”

“He felt bad about cheating on me,” my voice stumbled awkwardly, “so he called me to offer me a role. It’s nothing big, just a web series. But I can have the role without having to audition, as long as I’m there in two days.”

“How perfect. For both of you.” He rose to his feet, slowly, like a giant rising in front of me. “Do you want me to help you pack?”

My lips parted at the coldness of his tone. “I don’t want to leave you—”

“It’s exactly what you want,” he said acidly. “Go back to California, with all your industry connections. Jason Black is dying to have you back, so much he’s obligingly dug up an acting job for you. Everything you want has fallen into your lap. There’s nothing left to do but give you a goodbye kiss.”

Every woman Edward had trusted had abandoned him, lied to him. But I would not. “I don’t want to go. Because—”

He lifted a dark eyebrow and said mockingly, “Because?”

My spine straightened, and I forced myself to say it, simply, clearly, with every syllable full of equal parts anguish and hope. “Because I’m in love with you, Edward.”

The effect was immediate.

Dropping his hands, he staggered back. His eyes looked wild in the shadowy light. He took a step toward me. Then stopped.

“I want to stay,” I whispered, almost begging. “Please give me a reason to stay. Tell me I have a chance with you.”

I heard his intake of breath. “Diana...” He caught himself. His jaw grew tight. “No.”

“You don’t want me,” I said miserably.

“Of course I want you,” he said fiercely. Then he looked away. “I just know how this will end.” With a low curse, he yanked off his loosened tuxedo tie. “I should have broken this off weeks ago. Before we left Cornwall. But I couldn’t.” He looked at me, and I thought I saw a sheen of bewilderment in his eyes, even grief. “And this is the result. Pain for us both.”

“Don’t you have any feelings for me at all?” I choked out.

He stepped back. The short distance between us suddenly became wide. “I care about you.” I saw the smudges of shadows beneath his eyes. He took a breath. “In fact I’m afraid, if I let myself, I could fall in love with you, Diana.”

Joy leapt in my heart. “Edward—”

“But I won’t let it happen,” he said flatly. “I won’t let myself love you.”

The cut was so sudden and savage that my breath choked off and a sound came from my lips like a whimper.

His eyes glittered. “Love is a suckers’ game, Diana. I’ve told you that all along. The only way to win is not to play. I’ve learned it the hard way.”

But beneath his rough voice, I thought I heard something else. Vulnerability. He was holding himself together by brute force.

“Please don’t do this,” I said tearfully. “Don’t.”

Edward looked down at me almost wistfully. “We both know you haven’t been happy in London. It was just a matter of time.”

I couldn’t argue with that, no matter how much I wished I could. As I stood beside the enormous bed where he’d given me such pleasure in the darkness, every night for the past two months, I felt Edward’s emotional and physical withdrawal, as plainly as if someone had pulled a coat off my body. I hadn’t even realized it had been wrapped around my shoulders until it was suddenly gone and I felt the chill blast of winter.

Reaching into the closet, he pulled out my old suitcase. Tossing it on our bed, he calmly started dumping my clothes into it. As I watched him, aghast, he finished packing in just three minutes. “If I’ve missed anything, I’ll have it sent to you in California.”

“You’re tossing me out.”

His eyes held no expression. “I’m saying goodbye.”

But I still hadn’t told him my secret—our precious, precious secret, due in September. “Wait. We still have to talk.” I took a deep breath and tried desperately, “There’s something more I have to tell you—”

“We’ve talked,” Edward said. “And now we’re done.” Going to the window, he opened the blinds and looked out at the elegant street, dark and quiet with all the expensive townhouses tucked in for the night, sleeping cheek by jowl in the moonlight. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Edward called his driver. Hanging up, he glanced back at me as if I were a stranger.

“Nathan will be here in five minutes to take you to the airport. My jet is at your disposal, and will take you back to where your dream career and dream man await.” His lips twisted. “Thank you for your assistance with my recovery.” Edward held out his hand. “I will be glad to recommend you to anyone who needs a physiotherapist in the future.”

Bewildered, I took his hand. He shook it once, briskly, as if we’d only just been introduced. He started to pull away. Desperately, I tightened my hand. “Come with me to California.”

His lips curved. “And what would I do there?”

“Whatever you want!”

He shook his head. “St. Cyr Global is headquartered in London. The company is my responsibility. I was born to it....”

“And you hate it,” I said tearfully. “Every single minute.”

He looked down at me, and an expression of pain crossed his eyes. “It was fun while it lasted, Diana,” he said quietly. “But there is no reason for us to ever see each other again.”

“No reason? Are you crazy? I just told you I loved you!”

His expression hardened. “Do you expect me to change my whole life for the sake of a few cheap words?”

“Cheap?” My knees trembled from the emptiness I felt inside. It suddenly threatened to devour me, with the help of its friends, grief and despair. “I want to be with you forever. I love you, Edward,” I whispered. “We could build a home together, a future.” I lifted my tearful gaze to his. “We could have a child—”

My throat closed when I saw him flinch.

“Sorry. What I want,” he said quietly, “is a clean break.” He closed my suitcase with a snap.

“But there can’t be.” To my horror, my voice came out in a whimper. I wiped my eyes hard. “There will always be a connection between us now. Because you have to know that I...”

“For God’s sake, stop it!”

“But I...”

“Not another word! If you won’t go, I will.” I had a brief view of his pale, stricken face as he rushed past me. Then he was gone, disappearing through the door in a few strides of his long legs.

I stared after him in shock. I heard the echo of the front door slamming downstairs. I looked out the window, and numbly watched Edward disappear down the street, walking out of my life forever.

A sob came from the back of my throat. I leaned against the window, my hand outstretched across the cold glass. Edward hadn’t even given me the chance to tell him about the baby. Just telling him I loved him had made him run.

Just as I’d always known it would. Though I’d tried so hard not to know.

Through the blur of my tears, I saw a black sedan silently pull up to the curb in front of the house. Nathan, coming to take me to the airport.

I finally understood why Edward had ended our relationship. Why he’d been so determined not to love me.

It was so he’d never have to feel like this.

“Are you ready, madam?” I heard the driver’s voice at the door. “Shall I bring your suitcase down?”

My hand closed to a fist against the window. Turning slowly, I gave him a shake of my head. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Very good, madam.”

Squaring my shoulders, I wiped my eyes. I’d thought I could teach Edward something about love. Instead, he’d taught me.

Love is a suckers’ game. The only way to win is not to play.

With a deep breath, I picked up my suitcase. I’d never weep over Edward again, I vowed. All that mattered now was our baby. No.

My baby.