Читать книгу The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 103
ОглавлениеEvangeline stared at the half-packed suitcase blindly and gnawed on a fingernail. Not one of her previously manicured-within-an-inch-of-their-lives fingernails remained.
Matt had gone for a walk. By himself. She didn’t blame him for dealing with reality in his own way. Venice, the temporary fix, was over. It just didn’t feel like it should be, and if things went the way she hoped, it wouldn’t have to be.
She’d almost asked him to go to Monte Carlo. It had been right there on the tip of her tongue, but at the last moment, she couldn’t chance a “no,” not after he so cleverly steered her away from talking about it. He didn’t want to talk about it.
But she had a hunch they’d be doing nothing but talking by the time he came back from his walk, because something huge and frightening and momentous might have happened and it sat right in the middle of her consciousness, screaming its presence. All she had to do was verify it.
The doorbell chimed.
Evangeline bolted downstairs and grabbed the package from the delivery guy, slammed the door in his face and only remembered she’d forgotten to tip him after she locked herself in the bathroom.
Hands shaking, she pulled the pregnancy test from the brown wrapper. It was pretty much a formality. Icing on a cake that had already been baking for over a month, since the no-condom roof incident. The fatigue, the slight nausea, the way she sometimes couldn’t get enough of Matt’s hands on her overly sensitized body and other times, couldn’t stand for him to touch her at all—it meant something much more weighty than a need to move on.
This morning, she’d done the math, then called the pharmacy the second Matt went for his walk. Bless him for his foresight in setting up a delivery account, though she doubted either of them could have envisioned it would prevent unwanted photographs of Eva buying a pregnancy test.
Two minutes passed in a blur, and her life changed forever when the little plus sign appeared as expected.
A sob bubbled from her throat, but it was half shaky excitement and half disbelief. Madam Wong’s prediction that she’d conceive had encompassed more than songs.
A baby. She was going to have a baby. Matt’s baby.
It would be a girl, with Matt’s beautiful blue eyes and her voice. Her heart fluttered. Of course. This baby could be the answer to her future. She couldn’t sing, but she could learn to be a mom.
And Matt would be a dad, father to their baby. She’d be giving him the one thing Amber never could—the family he wanted. He’d forget about his wife in a heartbeat, like she never existed, and come with Evangeline to Monte Carlo.
Before, she and Matt didn’t make sense long term. Now they did. The baby would clinch it. He’d never reject his own flesh and blood. She and Matt would be happy, deliriously in love, with the proof of Matt’s devotion strapped into a baby-carrier on his back.
They’d both have a family. Together.
Okay, she was getting ahead of herself. She had to tell him first. But there was no doubt this would be the catalyst to keep them together. No doubt he’d be thrilled. He’d drifted into her life for a reason—to heal, surely, but also to move on with the next phase of life.
Evangeline was his next phase.
When his key rattled in the lock, she jumped up from the couch to greet the father of her child. A powerful twist of emotion welled up, like she’d never felt before. She tried to emblazon it in her memory so she could get it into a song as soon as possible.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m glad you’re still here. I got you something.”
“Funny. I have something for you, too.” Did she sound giddy?
His grin arrowed straight to her heart. “You do? What is it?”
She shook her head. “You first.”
Pulling a wrapped box from a bag, he dropped it into her cupped hands. “To remember me by.”
Wait until she told him he’d already given her the greatest memento possible.
The wrapping paper hit the floor. Jewelry. She flipped the hinged velvet lid and gasped.
“Wow. That was not what I was expecting. I love it.”
It was a white enameled Carnevale mask, painted with delicate brush strokes in a rainbow of colors. Teardrop diamonds spilled from the eyes. She pinned it to her shirt, over her heart.
He grazed the mask with a fingertip and glanced up. “I’m glad. I wanted you to have something unusual but easily carried. Since you move around a lot.”
That nearly knocked her to the floor. “Thanks. It means a lot that you understand me.”
“I’m trying to.” He cocked his head. “What did you get me?”
“My gift is unusual but easily carried, too. I hope you’ll like it as much.”
She hadn’t wrapped hers. Fishing it from her pocket, she handed over the pregnancy test.
“What is it?” He took it with a puzzled expression.
Then his whole body stiffened. His expression, his eyes, everything went absolutely still.
“You’re pregnant?” he asked hoarsely, gaze flitting back and forth between her and the plus sign. “The naps. Drinking orange juice like it’s going out of style. You’re pregnant.”
“And you’re going to be a father.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Congratulations.”
Matt sank onto the couch as if he hadn’t heard her, still staring at the piece of plastic in his hands. “So I assume this means you’re keeping it.”
Horrified, she glared at him. “As if there was a possibility I might not? Of course I’m keeping it.”
“Okay.” He blew out a breath and rubbed his forehead absently, not looking at her. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure I understood. That’s the right decision. But I’ll support you no matter what.”
“I never had a doubt.”
Matt wasn’t like her father. He was solid, capable. Not weak. Matt was a forever kind of guy and somehow, she’d been lucky enough to find him. A baby changed everything. It gave him more than enough reason to move on. With her.
“It was that time on the roof. Wasn’t it? When we forgot the condoms.” He looked a little green around the edges. “You said it was the wrong time of the month.”
“I thought it was. I miscalculated. But it was already too late, and honestly, I’m glad. We’re having a baby and I’m looking forward to being a mom. How do you feel about being a dad?”
Matt shut his eyes. “You’ve had a little more time to process than me. Give me a minute. Can I get you a drink? Crackers?” He shoved both hands behind his neck, like he was trying to hold his head in place. “I don’t even know what to do for a pregnant woman. Be right back.”
She watched him flee, breath rattling in her throat, cutting off all her oxygen as she reevaluated his reaction. It never occurred to her that he wouldn’t welcome the news. He’d always wanted a family, hadn’t he?
Well, he’d said he needed a minute. She had no choice but to give it to him. When he came back, he’d be ready to talk about the future, and then they could make plans to go to Monte Carlo.
Everything was going to be great.
* * *
Matthew escaped to the kitchen, formerly his haven. The place where he went to create, feel productive.
Hands spread wide, he leaned on the counter, head down. There still didn’t seem to be any blood circulating in his brain. The walls were too close together and the gap between them narrowed.
Pregnant.
Evangeline was pregnant.
He wasn’t ready to think about being with Evangeline forever, wasn’t prepared to examine why they still gelled when they shouldn’t. Couldn’t get past the fear that suddenly not one, but two people could easily become the center of his existence. Only to be ripped away.
This was his reward for flagrantly disregarding the rules and living in the moment with no thought to consequences. This was what running away from life had gotten him.
Automatically, he filled a glass full of water and downed it without coming up for air once.
From here on out, he’d have to do the right thing. Ironically, if he’d been doing the right thing all along, this never would have happened. But he was a Wheeler, first and foremost, and it was far past time to start acting like one.
What was he going to do? Evangeline would never fit into his life in Dallas. But she had to. Because he had to. Neither of them had a choice any longer.
Something rushed through his heart. Relief. They didn’t have a choice but to make it work, whether he was ready to think about forever or not. Forever had started the moment she spoke to him in Vincenzo’s hall. Venice was over, but they could still be together.
He returned to the living room, calm and in control. He hoped.
He sat on the couch next to Evangeline. “I’m sorry. I’m one hundred percent here now.”
But minus a drink for her. Maybe he was more like ninety percent here.
“I’m glad.” Her eyes were enormous and shiny. Red. She’d been crying and it wrenched his heart. No matter what he was going through, it hardly compared to an emotional and physical wallop, like what had happened to her.
Stop thinking about yourself, Wheeler.
“Hey,” he said softly and took her hand. “It’s going to be okay. Did I make you cry? I didn’t mean to.”
She shook her head. “I’m all emotional. From hormones, I guess. I’ve never been pregnant before.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll be here for you. Take you to the doctor and—” he swallowed against the sudden burn in his throat “—be in the delivery room to cut the umbilical cord.”
All things he’d looked forward to doing with Amber. Seeing his wife rounded with their child. Lacing fingers as they watched the image in the sonogram. Never had he imagined it happening with someone else, and never would he have anticipated the spike of unadulterated elation at the thought of doing it with Evangeline.
Ruthlessly, he shut off the emotions careening through his chest. Becoming emotional would not help this situation.
“So we’re going to be together?” she asked tentatively, and her grip on his hand tightened. “You want to be a part of the baby’s life?”
The baby’s life. He shook his head, to clear it, to whack something loose that made sense. How would anything make sense ever again?
There was so much more to consider than the pregnancy. The next eight months were only the beginning. He and Evangeline were going to be parents, of a kid who would eventually walk and talk and learn to ride a bike.
A baby. He was going to be a dad. Panic nearly blinded him—but the clearest sense of awe fought its way to the forefront.
“We’ll raise it together. Of course we will.”
The baby would be a Wheeler, entitled to everything Matthew could and would provide. The circumstances weren’t ideal, and this curveball certainly jerked him back to reality.
Venice was definitely over. They needed to make plans, decisions. Find a place to live. Insurance. A car with a baby seat. His head spun. He didn’t own a car anymore.
Evangeline gave him a watery smile. She was so thrilled, and he hated to squelch her enthusiasm, but they both needed to get real, really fast. Their relationship was now permanent. Two people who had almost nothing in common other than enormously painful events in their pasts were going to be parents.
“Together,” she repeated. “I like the sound of that. There was something about you, from the very first, that called to me. The fortune-teller even predicted it. That we’d conceive. Remember?”
What he remembered was chasing down a beautiful butterfly for the sole purpose of feeling something again, and tripping headlong into an affair he’d believed would help him get back home. All he’d wished for was a sign that he’d make it back to his old self. That he might heal.
Instead, one passionate round of rooftop sex had bound him to this woman permanently. A woman who was so different from every woman he’d ever met and with whom he had to be different to even keep up.
As stakes in the ground went, she’d presented him with a doozy. A baby. The panic rose again, thick in his throat. He pushed it down.
They’d be together. They’d have a family. It was a blessing, no matter what.
“We can get married quietly.” If they didn’t have any guests, the date of their wedding didn’t have to be publicized. They might be able to hide the fact that the baby was conceived out of wedlock. Anything to avoid causing his parents public embarrassment.
His back teeth clacked together. But he wouldn’t lie to his parents—they’d have to know the truth. The vision he had in his head of sitting with Amber on his parent’s sofa and gleefully telling them about the coming grandchild shattered. Of course, it had shattered long ago.
“Married? What are you talking about?”
“You’re pregnant. We’re getting married.” Out of order. Once again.
She laughed. “Matt, we don’t have to be married to be together. Love isn’t dependent on a piece of paper.”
Love? Did she think he was in love with her? Was she in love with him?
Evangeline made him crazy. She provoked sensual—okay, downright erotic—impulses from him. Pulled his soul from the deep freeze and made it okay to say whatever he wanted. Feel whatever he wanted. He couldn’t do that forever. His life—his real life—had order and structure. No surprises. He had to get that back.
And he didn’t want to be in love.
Never again. If he was doomed to suffer forever for falling in love with Amber, he certainly didn’t want to repeat that mistake. Especially not with Evangeline, who made him feel so much. Especially not now.
How much harder would it be to love his child’s mother and lose her?
The thought of losing either the mother or the child squeezed his chest so hard, he couldn’t breathe. He cursed—was it already too late?
“A baby isn’t dependent on love, either,” he said. Harsh. But true. Neither of them could afford to keep up the fantasy they’d been living, and he needed to internalize that fact as much as she did. Real life wasn’t about mystical connections and Venetian love affairs between incompatible people.
“We’re getting married,” he repeated.
Her eyebrows came together. “Who said I wanted to get married? You didn’t even ask me.”
He dismissed her words with a wave. “That’s just a formality. Marriage will be good for you.”
Her career was over—but she could be a wife and a mother. He had to make her see that. There was so much more to consider than whether he’d asked or not.
She recoiled as if he’d slapped her. “A formality? I deserve to be asked. With a ring. And you know, something along the lines of ‘I love you and want to be with you the rest of my life.’ Try it and then I’ll give you my answer.”
She was right. He’d gone about proposing the wrong way, but God Almighty, who could blame him? This humdinger of a development had flipped him inside out.
“I don’t have a ring. As far as I knew, we were kissing each other goodbye today. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath and slid her palm to his mouth, kissing it in silent apology before he released it. “Let’s figure out the next steps together.”
She smiled. “The first step is to remember we’re going to be happy.”
Happy. Happiness had been a sheer impossibility when he left Dallas. But Evangeline had changed that.
They could be happy outside of Venice. Evangeline was amazing, strong, resilient. Look at how she’d walked into the lion’s den of that horrific interview. Faced down the reporters. Played the piano. She could adapt to the role of Mrs. Wheeler and enjoy a life with roots. After all, they’d have a baby and a household to keep her busy and content.
She’d been searching for the next steps, and he’d give them to her. Being his wife would keep her demons away permanently, and she’d definitely become less...glittery. Then they’d gel in Dallas as well as they did here in Venice.
He returned her smile, and somehow it relaxed him. “Well, at least we already know we can live together without killing each other.”
He didn’t have to give her up. It was easier to picture her in Dallas if he forgot about all the reasons he and Evangeline wouldn’t work and instead focused on what would be great.
“I’ll let you cook. All the time. I have no problem with a man in my kitchen. It turns me on.”
Her thumb smoothed over his and for the first time since he’d walked into the hornets’ nest, he actually felt in control again.
* * *
Evangeline tucked her feet up under her and leaned into Matt’s warm chest. Finally, things had clicked into place, and he’d lost that panicked edge, poor guy. She got that it was a little rough to have something so life-changing dropped on you out of the blue. The adjustment was still messing with her, too.
Marriage—of course he’d want that, and she was still contemplating it. If he came up with a really good proposal, she might actually say yes.
There was a shock. She’d thought Rory had crushed the desire for marriage out of her forever. But Matt wasn’t like other men, and to him she was so much more than a broken voice.
“There’s a lot to discuss,” he said, and she nodded against his shoulder.
“First off, I’d like to talk about Monte Carlo.” Thankfully, she hadn’t brought it up yet. This way, it was practically a foregone conclusion. “The party is already in full swing but if we leave by Thurs—”
“What?” Matt tilted her head up to pierce her with a puzzled gaze. “We can’t go to Monte Carlo. Especially not to a party.”
“That’s where all my friends are. We can tell everyone the news, and of course I can’t drink any champagne, but you can have a glass for me.”
It would be a fantastic way to celebrate. Not exactly the kind of party Vincenzo and his crowd were used to, but fun all the same. Maybe someone would volunteer to throw her a baby shower.
“We don’t have to stay long,” she added. “A week, tops. Then I suppose we can come back to Venice until the tourist season star—”
“There’s no more Venice.” His lips curved up in a half smile, maybe in apology for cutting her off again, but the rest of his face was pure confusion. “Surely you’ve realized that. We’ll be flying to the States. We can leave as soon as you’re ready. Somewhere along the way, I’ll buy a ring and we’ll get married at my parents’ house.”
A little discombobulated, she frowned. “I thought we already talked about the marriage proposal. And there still hasn’t been one. Plus, I don’t want to go to America. I hate it there. You think the press is bad in Italy, wait until you’ve dealt with the gossip websites.”
“I don’t want to deal with the press at all. Unfortunately we don’t have that choice because America is where Dallas is and that’s where we’re going.”
“Dallas? You want to go back to Dallas?” The harsh consonants rang in her ears. She’d always known that was his goal, but things had changed. He had changed. And he’d said more than once he didn’t think he could go back yet. Monte Carlo was an opportunity to continue healing. “What’s in Dallas for you?”
“Dallas is where my family is, my job,” he explained, and his tone implied she should have already figured this out. “And that’s where I have to live in order to do it. Also, my mother is there. She’ll help you with the baby.”
“I have a mother.”
In a manner of speaking—she’d rather eat Brussels sprouts than ask her mom for parenting advice, and honestly, she might not mention the baby to her mother at all. Evangeline hadn’t darkened the door of her mother’s in a year or two. It wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility to keep the pregnancy from her.
“Your mother is welcome to come and stay for as long as you want her to,” Matt offered, and she tried not to gag at the thought. “But my mother will be involved. I want her to have a relationship with her grandchild.”
“There’s an app for that. It’s called Skype.”
“That’s ridiculous.” He flicked off her suggestion as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’ll probably buy a house close to my parents. There’s a good private school in their neighborhood. How early is too early to get on the waiting list, do you think?”
“Matt.” He was babbling about something called Hockaday. It was like they were speaking two totally different languages. She tugged on his shirt. “Matt. I’m not moving to Dallas.”
Dallas would be the worst place for Matt. He seemed to think he was ready, but it was too soon. He needed more time to heal, more time with her.
“Sure you are. There’s a really great arts district, and my mom knows a lot of people. She can introduce you to other moms your age. You’ll like it.”
The first tendrils of alarm unfolded in her stomach. “You don’t even like Dallas. You said it was oppressive. Do you really think you can go back to real estate, like you’re still the same person you used to be?”
The look on his face when he’d been telling Nicola and Angelo about his family firm—well, he might love his job, but it wasn’t going to be the same. He’d walked away because he needed something else.
He needed her.
“I have to be that person. That’s the real me. This?” He pointed at the frescoed ceiling. “This is not me. This is some other guy who’d lost his way. Dallas is where I was always trying to get back to. I have you to thank for getting me on the right track.”
“Dallas isn’t the right track. You’re talking about shoehorning both of us, and a baby, into something that doesn’t exist anymore. Monte Carlo is the best option for us. We’re moving on together. Don’t you see?” Desperation laced her words, because it was clear he didn’t see.
“Monte Carlo is not a place for the mother of my child.” His lips firmed into a no-nonsense line she’d never seen before.
“It is when I’m the mother.”
Their gazes locked, and the frozen blue of his irises nearly took her breath. All of Matt’s incredible depth—the quality she’d always treasured the most—had vanished.
“I don’t want you around those kind of people,” he said.
“Those kind of people?” Her spine stiffened in shock. “And what kind of people would those be, Matt?”
He had the gall to glare at her. “Alcoholics. Like your ex. People who stumble home after a night of who knows what, like Vincenzo, and throw phone parties.”
Eyes wide, she snickered to cover her rising distress. “Would you like a stepladder to see over that double standard you just threw up? May I remind you where we met?”
“That’s irrelevant. You’re not going to Monte Carlo.”
Who was this man talking to her out of Matt’s mouth and watching her from his eyes, but who clearly was not Matt? It was like he’d put on another mask, but this one scared her.
“Are we really on such opposite sides of this? How can that be?” She looked for some glimmer of the empathy they’d always had. It wasn’t there, as if the link between them had been severed. The tendril of panic exploded. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“We’re having a baby. A baby that will be raised in Dallas, where it will have the best care and the best opportunities.” The corner he was pushing her into grew sharp against her back. He never pushed. Why now? “Where we can have a good life and be happy. Like you said.”
Dallas was his idea of a good life? “What, exactly, do you envision me doing in Dallas? Tea parties with your mother?”
He shrugged. “Sure. If you want to. Or volunteer. My sister-in-law runs a women’s shelter. Maybe that would appeal to you. It’ll take a while to get back in the swing of things, even for me, but I usually get invitations to at least one or two social events a week. Charity balls and the like. When the baby comes, you can take it easy and focus on being a mother.”
“Charity balls?” Her voice squeaked. Which would be unremarkable except it was the highest tone she’d accomplished in a very long time. “Have we actually met? Hi, I’m Evangeline La Fleur, and I live in Europe. I’d like for the father of my child to live in Europe with me.”
“Or?”
The challenge snaked through her.
“Or don’t. But you’re talking about a life in Dallas that I can’t do.” If she put down roots in Dallas, what would happen to her if it didn’t work out? If he decided he didn’t want her to stay after all?
“Can’t? Or won’t?” His tone sliced through her, and tears burned at the corners of her eyes.
“Can’t.” She took a deep, calming breath, but it shuddered in her chest. “Matt, have you listened to me at all? I’d die in that environment. Die, as in wither up into a dried bit of nothing and blow away.”
They both would. Why was he being so stubborn?
“You’ll be with me. I’ll keep you entertained.” His wolfish smile unleashed a nauseous wave in her abdomen.
“Is that all I am to you?”
“No. Of course not.” He shook his head, sobering, and every fiber of her being wished for him to follow that with, I love you. “I want you to be my wife.”
That’s when it all snapped into place. The sick churning in her stomach sped up.
“You haven’t been trying to get over Amber. That’s why it’s taking so long. What you’ve been searching for isn’t a cure—you’ve been looking for a replacement. The whole time. And you found one.”
“No one can replace Amber.” A lethal edge to his expression whipped out and knifed her in a tender place deep inside. “I would never attempt to try.”
“Of course. My mistake.” One of many. But she couldn’t let it go, couldn’t stop from ensuring they both heard the brutal truth. “I’ve been falling in love with you. All along. Tell me that’s one-sided.”
The harsh lines of his face softened. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“But you’re going to anyway.”
Her heart froze in disbelief. She’d put it out there, only to have it slapped down. It had never occurred to her that she wouldn’t be successful at healing him. That the baby wouldn’t be the answer. That her feelings wouldn’t be returned.
But Matt was honest to a fault, and he’d never lie to her.
He didn’t love her.
He couldn’t, because she wasn’t Amber. She’d never be able to fill the empty place in his heart, and she’d been a fool to think that demon could ever be slayed.
Her whole life had been shaped by rejection at the hands of people who didn’t love her because she wasn’t someone else. She wasn’t Lisa. She wasn’t Sara Lear. And she wasn’t Amber.
“Evangeline...” He sighed, and deep lines appeared around his eyes, aging him. “I’ve never made you any promises. I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep. And I’m not ready to be in love again. Might never be.”
Brutal. She’d had no idea how severe the truth could really be. “So you’re proposing we get married and raise a kid. But as roommates?”
“We’ve been living together without being in love. Why does being married have to be any different? It’ll be like Venice, but permanent. If you don’t want to volunteer, then do something else, maybe related to music. Give private singing lessons.”
“I can’t sing,” she choked out, and the final stitch holding her heart together snapped. The organ fell into two pieces somewhere in the vicinity of her womb, where the child she thought they’d love as a couple grew.
“Piano lessons then.” He took her hand, squeezing, as if nothing was wrong. As if everything was going to work out fine. “If you taught me, you can teach anyone. It doesn’t matter to me as long as the baby is taken care of.”
It doesn’t matter to me.
She was nothing more than a warm oven for his offspring. Not someone to love and cherish. It was the ultimate rejection of everything she’d imagined their relationship to be.
She yanked her hand out of his grasp.
She’d invented a connection—one that didn’t actually exist—out of her own loneliness and fear of an empty future. In the end, Matt wanted something from her far more damaging, and far more heartbreaking, than she could have ever predicted. He wanted her to sacrifice everything that made her who she was, and in return, he vowed to never love her the way he loved Amber.
Maybe he wasn’t capable of loving anyone other than Amber.
Why hadn’t she realized that sooner?
“Oh, the baby will be taken care of. My baby,” she corrected fiercely. This was one time when she’d be doing the rejecting. “I don’t actually need your help, in case that wasn’t clear. I’m not a wide-eyed sixteen-year-old, terrified and penniless. I’ve got a net worth in the eight figures. The baby will have every opportunity available under the sun. You go back to Dallas and attend some stuck-up snobby rich people’s charity event. I’ll be in Monte Carlo living the life that makes sense for me. You can have a relationship with your child through the internet.”
She fled up the stairs, tears streaming, and locked herself in the bedroom to finish packing.
