weeks.”
He did the math. She’d been with him exactly seven weeks ago on that island.
“Are you sure?”
“The doctor confirmed it.”
“When? How long have you known?”
“I saw him yesterday morning.”
Evan’s jaw clenched. He ran his hands through his hair and sucked in oxygen, then bolted from the bed and paced back and forth to release excess energy. Adrenaline pumped through his veins like raging wildfire. “You’ve seen me twice since then and didn’t tell me?”
Laney sat upright on the bed and rubbed her head. “I was trying to adjust to the idea.”
“Damn it. It’s not an idea. It’s a baby.”
She remained seated, probably fearful of rising and fainting again. That was just fine with him. He needed to hash this out with her. Fainting wasn’t an option.
“I meant you, Evan. I needed to adjust to you being the father.”
Evan let go a string of curses.
Laney stood. He watched her legs wobble a little, but she held her ground. He was red-hot and ticked off. Yet, at the same time concerned for the baby.
His baby.
“Sit down, Laney. Let’s talk about this.”
“I’m not ready to talk about it.”
“Sit.” He pointed to the bed. “I’ll do all the talking.”
“Imagine that,” she muttered, but she sat anyway.
“I’m marrying you. As soon as I can make the arrangements, we’ll have a small ceremony and—”
“Whoa!” Laney put up a stopping hand. “Are you crazy? I will not marry you.”
Evan scoffed at her refusal. “It’s not negotiable.”
“It’s not negotiable?” A hot gleam of anger crossed her features. “Okay, I lied. It’s not your baby. It’s Joe the bartender’s. Remember him?”
Evan braced his hands on his hips. “Sure do. Good old married Joe. His wife, Tessie, waited tables at the Wind Breeze and never let him out of her sight. Nice try.”
Laney rolled her eyes.
“Don’t deny it, Laney. The baby is mine.” Evan was sure of it now. If it weren’t she wouldn’t have had such a panicked look on her face when he discovered the truth. At least, she’d been honest about the time frame. They’d spent a lot of time in and out of bed those days. Evan would bank his last dollar that she hadn’t been with another man while on the island. She wouldn’t have admitted to him that he was the father otherwise. After all, he knew she thought of him as the enemy, the man responsible for all of her current problems. “And you will marry me.”
Laney frowned, her eyes narrowing. “You’d do anything to get your hands on The Royals, wouldn’t you?”
“If you remember, your hands were on me—all over me, babe, at least half a dozen times. So don’t go pointing fingers. We’re both responsible for this.”
“I’m willing to take full responsibility.” She cast him a dry look. “You’re off the hook.”
“Hell would have to freeze over first. And you know damn well this isn’t about the hotels, Laney. You’re carrying my child. My flesh and blood. I’m giving that child a name. And making damn sure you take care of yourself while you carry him to term.”
“Don’t even suggest I’m not taking care of this child!”
“Prove it. Marry me.”
“My answer is no.” She folded her arms across her middle, shook her head and stared at him.
He stared back. If she wanted a contest of wills, she’d get one. “Let me put it this way. My child will have my name and my protection. If you don’t accept this proposal, I can guarantee your hotels will fail and it won’t be pretty, Laney. You’re out of your depth with this. I’ve rescued failing enterprises and brought new life into them. That’s how Tempest has thrived against worthy competitors. Now, do you or don’t you want to save The Royals?”
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