to go? If she tried to keep running, the Correttis would find her. She couldn’t melt away and become anonymous. She couldn’t find a job and raise her child alone. She had no idea how to begin. She had no skills, no advanced education. She’d never worked a day in her life.
But she would. She would, damn it, if that’s what it took. She wasn’t half-bad with plants. Maybe she could get a job in a nursery, or in someone’s garden. She could prune plants, coax forth blooms, mulch and pot and plan seasonal beds.
It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Tears filled her eyes and she dashed them away angrily. Eventually, she fell asleep again. When she woke this time, it was full daylight. She got up and dressed. She thought about ordering room service again, but she needed to be careful with her expenses. She would go and find a diner somewhere, a place she could eat cheaply.
And then she would figure out what to do.
Lia swept her long hair into a ponytail and grabbed her purse. She was just about to open the door when someone knocked on it. The housekeeper, no doubt. She pulled open the door.
Except it wasn’t the housekeeper.
Lia’s heart dipped into her toes at the sight of Zach on the threshold. But then it rose hotly as anger beat a pulse through her veins. He’d been so cruel to her last night.
“What do you want?” she asked, holding the door tight with one hand. Ready to slam it on him.
“To talk to you.”
He was so handsome he made her ache. And that only made her madder. Was she really such a pushover for a pretty face? Was that how she’d found herself in this predicament? The first man to ever pay any real attention to her had the body of a god and the face of an angel—was it any wonder she’d fallen beneath his spell?
This time she would be strong. She gripped the door hard, her knuckles whitening. “I understood you the first time. What more can you have to say?”
He blew out a breath, focused on the wall of windows behind her head. “I called Taylor.”
Her heart throbbed with a new emotion. Jealousy. “And this concerns me how?”
“You know how, Lia. Let me in so we can talk.”
She wanted to say no, wanted to slam the door in his face—but she couldn’t do it. Wordlessly, she pulled the door open. Then she turned her back on him and went over to the couch to sit and wait. He came inside and stood a few feet away, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets.
“You went to see Taylor,” he said. “To find out where I lived.”
She lifted her chin. “I knew you lived in Washington, D.C. You told me so.”
“Yes, but it’s a big city. And you needed an address.”
She toyed with the edge of her sleeve. “I’d have found you. You did tell me about your father, if you recall.”
But it would have been much harder, which was why she’d gone to see Taylor. And how embarrassing that had been. She’d had to explain to a complete stranger that she needed to find Zach because she had something to tell him.
Taylor hadn’t accepted that excuse. She’d demanded to know more. Lia hadn’t blamed her, since she was Zach’s friend, but it was still a humiliating experience. Taylor hadn’t actually believed her—until she’d produced the medal. Lia still wasn’t certain that Taylor believed everything, but she’d relented at that point because she’d believed enough.
“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” he said.
Lia swallowed. What could she say? I had no choice? My family will be furious? I’m afraid?
“A baby needs two parents,” she said. “And a man should know if he’s going to be a father.”
“And just what did you expect me to do about it, sugar?”
Irritation zipped through her like a lash. Sugar wasn’t an endearment, spoken like this; it was a way of keeping her at a distance. Of objectifying her. “You know my name. I’d prefer you use it.”
His eyes flashed. “Lia, then. Answer the question.”
She folded her arms and looked toward the windows. She could see the white dome of the Capitol building sitting on the hill. Why had she chosen this hotel? It was far too expensive. If her grandmother cut off her credit cards, she’d be doing dishes in the hotel kitchen for the next ten years just to pay for one night.
“I thought you would want to know.”
“You could have called.”
She swung back to look at him. “Are you serious? Would you want this kind of news over the phone?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled something from his rear pocket and tapped it on his palm. “How much money do you want, Lia?”
Her heart turned to stone in her chest as she realized he was holding a checkbook. And though she needed money—desperately—it hurt that he thought all he needed to do was buy her off.
And it hurt that he didn’t want this child growing inside her. That he could so easily shove aside that connection and have nothing to do with a person who was one half of him.
My God, she’d really chosen well, hadn’t she?
“You think I came here for money?” It would solve her most immediate problem, but it wouldn’t really solve anything. She’d still be single and pregnant, and her family would still be furious—and the Correttis had a long arm.
“Didn’t you?”
Lia stood. She had to fold her arms over her middle to hide their trembling. “Get out,” she said, fighting the wave of hysteria bubbling up inside her.
He took a step toward her and then stopped. The checkbook disappeared in his jeans again. He looked dark and broody and so full of secrets he frightened her. And yet a part of her wanted, desperately, to slide into his arms and experience that same exhilaration she had back in Sicily.
“You expect marriage,” he said, almost to himself. “That’s why you came.”
It seemed so silly when spoken aloud like that, but she couldn’t deny the truth of it. She had thought she would race to D.C., tell Zach she was pregnant and he would be so happy he’d want to take care of her and the baby forever.
Lia closed her eyes. What was wrong with her? Why was she always looking for acceptance and affection where there was none? Why did she think she needed a man, any man, in her life anyway?
“This is your baby in here,” she said, spreading her hand over her abdomen. “How can you not want it?”
He raked a hand through his hair and turned away from her. Once more, she was studying his beautiful, angry profile.
“Assuming what you say is true, I’m not good father material.” He said it quietly, with conviction, and her heart twisted in her chest.
Still,
