that doesn’t include sex.’
He shrugged, inwardly smiling at the heightened colour in her cheeks. ‘You can say when it will be but, let me assure you, it will be.’
She opened her mouth and he knew she was about to make the ultimate protestation. He stopped her by laying his finger across her way-too-kissable lips.
‘Necrophilia’s not my thing. I believe your body will be very much alive and willing.’
Her teeth snapped on empty air.
He was right about this being a deal. That was how to handle it—as a business proposition—albeit unconventional. He could concede her a partnership—eighty-twenty with him holding the majority stake. They both had good business sense. They could make this work. And be satisfied. Very satisfied.
He looked across at her and could see her mentally hunting for a weapon—something, anything to make him withdraw. She was out of luck because nothing she could say would sway him.
Her eyes turned bitter as defeat approached. ‘I can’t be with someone who’ll be unfaithful.’
Black anger blinded him for a moment. God, she could be a bitch. How little she knew him. Well, he grimaced, she had a lifetime to get to know him and how he meant it when he said he was honest. He very nearly swore at her some more, but his jaw clamped when he spotted the vulnerability in her eyes. She could say what she liked, but her eyes always told him the real story. Right now this was one angry woman who was just that little bit scared—that little bit hurt. That little bit got to him. He wanted her to be in his keeping, but he didn’t want her hurt or afraid.
He took a deep breath. ‘I have never been with more than one woman at a time. And I never will. When I promise to be faithful to you, rest assured, I will be.’
Something flashed in her eyes and he fancied it was disbelief. Fine. He’d prove it. He had plenty of time to. Anger came surging back as he thought of something so distasteful every muscle in his body clenched. ‘And I totally expect the same from you.’ He thought he knew why the idea was so abhorrent. ‘I will not have my child exposed to infidelity or have you parade a string of unsuitable boyfriends before it.’
Unsuitable boyfriends?
Suddenly Cally was the one who was angry. ‘I don’t cheat.’ She forced the words at him.
‘Good. Keep it that way.’
She opened her mouth. Shut it again. And concentrated hard on keeping her grip, only just restraining the urge to hit him—an urge she’d only ever had once in her life before, about five minutes ago.
She watched as he too tried to keep his cool. The silence was thick as frustration and sheer rage were mirrored in each other’s eyes. And the worst of it was that the primary source of Cally’s anger was that she still wanted him. His closeness, his presence had her yearning for him. It was that ‘conquering ferocious man’ thing again. The place between her thighs was all softness and wet. She wanted to take his hardness deep inside and squeeze the tension from both of them. He was so appallingly attractive—even now. She wanted to rid herself of her extreme physical need by rubbing against him in an extremely physical way. Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples so hard it was almost painful. She pressed the tops of her thighs together trying to get rid of some of the energy by clamping the muscles, stopping the urge to rock her hips forward.
And he knew. The green in his eyes glowed as relentlessly he stared at her. The tension zinged along the invisible cord pulling them together.
‘Very alive. Very willing,’ he murmured.
She had to suppress it, this almost insane urge to sleep with him. The drive to make him lose control and surrender to her—because she knew it wouldn’t really be him surrendering, it would be her. And how she wanted it—the weight of him as he shuddered in her arms, filling her completely, driving against her, into her—hot, sweaty, hard sex over and over.
No way, no way, no way. He thought she’d tricked him and now he was railroading her into marrying him. She could not, would not sleep with him. Mind over matter.
‘I think it’s time you left.’ Shaking and low, her voice was almost inaudible.
‘And it’s time you thought through your options. There’s only one, you know. I’ll be back, Cally.’ He swung back and for a second she thought he was going to kiss her. Either that or commit some act of violence. He did neither. Instead he spoke, rough and commanding. ‘Take care.’
CHAPTER NINE
BLAKE was back first thing. Demanding Cally find her birth certificate. Unable to muster a hint of defiance so early in the morning when her stomach had her feeling as if she were on a small dinghy in a wildly pitching sea, she simply turned and started walking. He followed her to the small office area, watched as she took her certificate from the filing cabinet.
He watched with a wry smile. ‘I knew you’d have your papers in good order.’
She stared back humourlessly.
His smile disappeared. ‘I’ll drop this in to the register office today with the other documents. We marry a month tomorrow.’
She put her hands on her hips and tried to stare him out. ‘You don’t want to stop and think about this at all?’
He looked at her as if she were stupid. ‘I’ve done nothing but.’
Cally spent the next few weeks alternately ignoring the situation, and then examining her options in depth. OK, so she was pregnant—frankly that was amazing. The doctor had told her to rest, to try not to worry or stress. She looked around her office. She certainly didn’t need any more stress—her job provided more than enough. She didn’t have the reserves for a sustained battle against Blake.
She had to admit the way he wanted this baby touched her. They wanted the same outcome. They could get through this. A partnership, he’d called it. And maybe that could work. OK, she had to make it work and so she was not going to mess it up with lustful thoughts. For her health, and that of the baby, it was easier to say yes to him. No more arguments. But no more sex either. The situation didn’t need to get any more complicated.
Panic flashed through her. Please, let the baby be OK—it was such a miracle. She was almost afraid to believe it was real. She’d do anything for her baby to be OK.
She blanked out those deeply lodged doubts and refocused on what she should do. Time and time again she faced the fact that she couldn’t deny her baby the opportunity of having two parents who loved it and who would make whatever sacrifices necessary to provide it with security and love. She wanted her baby to have the kind of relationship with its father that she’d had with hers. She wanted the closeness, for it to feel the comfort she had. Her father had loved her, protected her and cared for her—and she had been crushed when he’d died. And then her mother had let her down again and again. Intuitively she knew Blake would never let his child down.
She couldn’t let her child miss out on building a relationship with him. What if something happened to her—what if she died too soon as her father had? If she didn’t give her child the opportunity of knowing and loving its father, she would have failed as its mother—especially when its father wanted to be involved so much. Her baby deserved both of them. She had to try to make it work. And Blake
