His Pregnant Princess Bride. Catherine Mann
Viking queen. Impassive. Strong. Icy. And still so damn sexy in her soft feminine clothes and that bold leather bracelet.
“Yes, and I am absolutely certain the child is yours.”
“I didn’t question you.”
“I wanted to be clear. Although in these days of DNA tests, it is not a subject that one can lie about.” She frowned. “Do you need time to think, for us to talk more later? You look pale.”
Did he? Hell, he did feel as if he’d been broadsided by a three-hundred-pound linebacker, but back in his ballplaying days he’d been much faster at recovery. And the stakes here were far higher. He needed to tread carefully. “A child is always cause for celebration.” He took her hand in his, as close as he could let himself get until he had answers, no matter how tempted he was for more. “I’m just surprised. We were careful.”
“Not careful enough, apparently. You, um, did stretch the condom, and perhaps there was a leak.”
He choked on a cough. “Um, uh...I don’t know what to say to that.”
“It was not a compliment, you Cro-Magnon.” She shook her hand free from his. “Simply an observation.”
“Fair enough. Okay, so you’re pregnant with my baby. When do you want to head to the courthouse to get married?”
“Are you joking? I did not come to the United States expecting a proposal of marriage.”
“Well, that is what I am offering. Would you prefer I do this in a more ceremonial way? Fine.” He slid from his chair and dropped to one knee on the flagstone patio. “Marry me and let’s bring up this child together.”
Her eyes went wide with shock and she shot to her feet. Looking around her as if to make sure no one overheard. “Get up. You look silly.”
“Silly?”
For the first time since he’d met her, she appeared truly flustered. She edged farther away, sweeping back her loose hair with nervous hands. “Perhaps I chose the wrong word. You look...not like you. And this is not what I want.”
“What do you want?”
“I am simply here to notify you about your child and discuss if you wish to be a part of the baby’s life before I move forward with my life.”
“Damn straight I want to bring up my child.”
“Shared custody.”
He reached to capture her restless hands and hold them firmly in his. “You are not hearing me. I want to raise my child.”
“Our child.”
“Of course.” He caressed the insides of her wrists with his thumbs. “Let’s declare peace so we can make our way through this conversation amicably.”
Her shoulders relaxed and he guided her to a bench closer to the half wall at the end of the patio. They sat side by side, shoulder to shoulder.
She nodded. “I want peace, very much. That’s why I came to you now, early on, rather than just calling or waiting longer.”
“And I am glad you did.” He slid his hand up her arm to her shoulder, cupping the warmth of her, aching for more. “My brother Dempsey grew up thinking our father didn’t want him and it scarred him. I refuse to let that happen to my child. My baby will know he or she is wanted.”
“Of course our child will be brought up knowing both parents love and want him or her.”
“Yes, and you still haven’t answered my question.”
“What question?”
“The silly question that comes with a guy getting down on one knee. Will you marry me?”
“Marry you? I do not even know you.” Erika’s voice hitched. Marriage? She had wanted him to be supportive, sure. But...marriage? The words tumbled over and over in her head in a disjointed echo.
“We knew each other well enough to have sex. Call me old-fashioned, but I’m trying to do the right thing here and offer to marry you. We can have a civil ceremony and divorce in a year. As far as our child knows, we gave it an honest try but things didn’t work.” His voice was level. Calm. Practical.
Her fears multiplied. This seemed too calculated. And she would not land in a family environment that was all for show again. Being raised royal had taught her she was not meant for a superficial existence. She had already chosen a meaningful career. A future where she could make a difference.
Swallowing back the anxiety swelling in her chest, she reminded herself to be reasonable.
“You figured all that out this fast? Or have you had practice with this sort of business before?” The notion cut her with surprising sharpness. She did not want to think about Gervais involved with other women after the way they’d been together.
“I am not joking.” His hand inched toward hers.
She scrutinized his face, studied the way his jaw jutted. The play of muted lights on his dark hair, the way it was thickest on top of his head. Even now, he was damn attractive. But that fact wasn’t enough to chase reason from her mind.
“Apparently not.”
“I’ll take that as a no to my proposal.” Retreating his hand, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“You most certainly can. It is far too soon to speak of marriage. And have you forgotten? I have plans to pursue my education in the UK.”
Tilting his head, he lowered his voice. It became soft. Gentle. “You won’t even consider my offer? Not even for the baby’s sake? Let me take care of you while you’re pregnant and recovering, postpartum and such. You can get to know my family during the football season. Afterward, we can spend more time with yours.”
Even if the monarchy was defunct, she was a royal and sure of herself. She shot to her feet. “Do I get any say in this at all? You are a pushy man. I do not remember that about you.”
He stood and stepped closer, very close, suggestively. His hips and thighs warm against hers. “What do you remember about our time together?”
“If you are trying to seduce me into doing whatever you want—” Erika needed to focus. Which was tougher than ever with him pressed up against her and that smolder in his eye setting her on fire.
“If? I must not be working hard enough.” He slid his hands up her arms.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment she felt as if she could give in. But thoughts of her future child coursed through her mind. A ragged breath escaped her lips, and she reopened her eyes.
She clasped his wrists. “Stop. I am not playing games. I came here to inform you. Not demand anything of you. And certainly not to reenact our past together.”
His hands dropped and he scowled. “Let me get this straight. If I hadn’t wanted anything to do with the baby, you would have simply walked away?”
“You never would have heard from me again.” The words escaped her as an icy dagger. She would have no use for such a man. And she had to admit that even if his proposal felt pushy, at least Gervais was not the sort of person to walk away from his child.
“Well, not a chance in hell is that happening this time. You may have brushed me off once before, but not again.”
Had he genuinely wished to see her again after their weekend together? She had been afraid to find out at the time, afraid of answering his call only to discover that his contact was a perfunctory duty and social nicety. After what they had shared, she was not sure she could bear hearing that cool retreat in his voice. Now, of course, she would never know what his intentions had truly been toward her.
She