beneath an authentic French classic chandelier, Natalie angled slowly back. “Are you forgetting where this all started? There’s a woman who’s alone and carrying your baby.”
His eyes glinted. “That’s not been determined.”
“Then perhaps you ought to help organise some tests.”
She hated being snarky, but talk of buying multimillionaire dollar mansions or taking advantage of bad publicity wouldn’t help the situation.
“I spoke with a friend this morning,” Alex said. “Mateo’s a leading OB/GYN.”
Her ears pricked. He’d spoken of Mateo Celeca before. Alex and the doctor had been fast friends since high school.
“After samples are taken from both Bridget and myself, we should have the results of the paternity tests within a week.”
A wave of light-headedness swept over her.
If he was the father of that baby, they, as a couple, really would be over. No more acceding to games like today’s. He would need to be with Bridget Davidson and her baby. No way would Natalie place herself in the middle.
She reclaimed her detached air. “Then it’s going to be an intense week for you,” she said, starting up the stairs.
“With the publicity it will be for you, too…unless we make the best of a bad situation.”
She continued up the staircase.
“From the activity at Phil’s,” he went on, “I’m guessing your office was flooded with calls this morning. Celebrity does that.”
“That’s a steep price for a few leads. And when Phil realizes what’s going on,” that she was wasting her time here because this expedition was merely a way for Alex to get her alone and vulnerable, “I might not have a job.”
“My bet is, after today he’ll give you a big fat bonus.”
Still ascending, she clapped one thigh. “Well, of course! Being involved with a man who is supposedly marrying one woman while another is having his baby is clearly something to endorse.”
“Not everyone believes that two people who aren’t suited to each other should marry for the sake of the child. It’s a recipe for resentment and discord.”
“There’s a lot of old-fashioned folk who believe they should at least try.” The folk back in Constance Plains, for instance. Bunch of small-minded hypocrites.
And, dammit, she wouldn’t think about that, either.
She was halfway up the staircase when, as if by magic, he appeared before her, his powerful frame blocking her path. “And an equal amount of people would say I’m a man of principle for not going back on my word to you.”
Her heart pounded as he loomed over her. He was everything a man should be. A powerhouse of raw conviction and simmering sexuality.
And, she had to remember, he was no longer hers.
“There’s just one teensy problem. We weren’t, aren’t and never will be engaged. It’s a lie.”
“We can turn it into the truth.”
She made an impatient sound then wound up around him. But he clasped her hand and she was tugged back to face his steely gaze.
“I can’t do anything about Bridget’s claim,” he said. “Or that word is out we’re to be married. If I retract that statement now, I’ll look like an even bigger heel.” His brows knitted. “Zhang knows about my grandfather’s less than scrupulous reputation. Yesterday I convinced him that any investment would be safe with me. I told him I was a man of my word.”
“An honourable man who carries through on his promises,” she murmured, continuing his thread and hating that it’d begun to make some kind of sense.
This fake engagement had a business angle? Business implied impartiality, controlled feelings, calculated decisions.
And none of that meant she would go along with it.
“Cute plan,” she offered, “but I’m sure you’re aware of its flaws.”
He nodded grudgingly. “Zhang’s decision might not be affected by this story either way. On the other hand, if that newspaper report has swayed his opinion, perhaps nothing will swing it back. But even if Zhang doesn’t go through with this deal, I’ll have gained something more important.” His foot found the higher stair and he leaned in close. “A wife.”
Her eyes popped.
Wife!
She choked on a disbelieving laugh. “Whoa. Alex, listen to me. We are not engaged.”
Deaf, determined, he dug into his back pocket and presented a small velvet box, then sprang open the lid.
The strength in her legs dissolved. A huge solitaire diamond glittered up at her. She’d never seen a stone that big, that dazzling. That perfect!
A bubble of emotion caught in her throat. She swallowed before it went to her head.
This scenario was all wrong, from beginning to end. She couldn’t be engaged to him. She certainly couldn’t marry him. He was probably the father of another woman’s baby. Even if the tests came back negative, Tallie Wilder wasn’t exactly prime wife material. Not if the man concerned wanted a family.
Alex had made it clear that having a son and heir was a priority, and she couldn’t have another child. He wanted his wife’s reputation to be above reproach. In her hometown, her name was synonymous with scandal.
And there was something else. Alex hadn’t mentioned the reason a couple usually became man and wife. Oh, he desired her, enjoyed her company, treated her like a queen. But he didn’t love her.
A lifetime ago she’d dreamed of love where no sacrifice was too great. Where what mattered above all else was the other person’s feelings, security and trust. She’d imagined knowing the kind of love where forfeiting your most prized possession would be the least you could do if it eased your sweetheart’s pain just a little.
Then she’d lost her baby as well as any emotion, other than grief and regret. Having known Alexander had brought her back to life. She still believed in that unique kind of love, maybe even for herself. She certainly wouldn’t marry without it.
But while she felt sure Alex would make a wonderful, committed father, she wasn’t certain he was capable of that kind of unconditional affection where a woman was concerned. To a shrewd man like Alex, deep romantic love would equal vulnerability, Samson and Delilah style. She had only to remember how coolly he’d relayed the standards he’d accept in a wife, or his suggestion a moment ago that they follow through with the engagement primarily because of business, to be sure of that.
He wanted the ideal wife and mother and he’d chosen her. What a joke.
Needing to escape—needing to breathe—she jogged back down the stairs. “Alex, don’t do this.”
“Because
