of her uncle’s beach house, and she sucked in a breath. She was used to seeing him in his dark tailor-made suits, and the casual polo and cargo shorts he wore caught her off-guard. The bay air ruffled his dark hair. He seemed less severe, less...imposing. She approved. So, this is what Collin Baptista looks like when he’s not putting people away. Approachable, affable....handsome.
Madison felt unnerved. His strong shoulders and muscular chest were as impressive in a polo as they were in an expensive wool suit. She had a flash then of his bare skin, of the feel of his strong pecs beneath her fingers. He was a surprisingly fit attorney, one who somehow found time to hit the gym. Collin was one of those people, she thought, who woke at five a.m. just to life weights. An overachiever.
Still, she felt an odd mix of delight and dread as she watched him walk up the stairs to the front patio door. Yvana steered the golf cart back out to the road, throwing her hand up in a wave as she left.
There was no more time to stall. Madison heard the doorbell and headed for the entryway. What was she going to say to him?
She padded down the staircase inside the house, her bare feet slapping the smooth dark wood as she made her way to the patio, anxiously fiddling with her hair. Why do I even give a damn? she asked herself as she went to the glass door. Collin was already knocking, peering in.
She’d forgotten how tall and broad he was. So broad. The normal-sized backpack slung over one shoulder looked...undersized.
She swung open the door.
“Is it mine?” he blurted immediately.
So he did know. Still, the it rubbed her the wrong way. The baby wasn’t an it. The baby was...a boy or a girl, but first and foremost, a baby, a human being, not an it.
“How did you find out?” she asked as he moved past her into the cool air-conditioning. She hadn’t exactly invited him in, but he didn’t seem to care about that little detail. She closed the door behind him, shutting out the swarm of gnats on the patio.
“Heard a rumor. Is it true? You’re pregnant?”
She felt the intensity of his gaze. She wanted to lie but knew it was futile. He’d sniff out a falsehood in a heartbeat.
“Who told you?”
“Matt. From your firm. He said people are talking about you taking a sudden leave, and the rumors are either that you’re pregnant or you have cancer. Which one is it?”
Madison bit her lower lip. She hadn’t told anyone but Uncle Rashad about the pregnancy, and she was sure he’d never tell anyone at work. Yvana was an exception, but then she’d been a close family friend for decades, and the spilling of that secret really was about her protection. Uncle Rashad wouldn’t gossip about something like that at the office.
“Is it true?” Collin asked again. He wasn’t going to let this go.
“No one was supposed to know,” she murmured.
“So, it is true.”
Here’s where he argues about the benefits of getting rid of the baby, she thought. Here’s where he subtly, but firmly, tells me the best thing is to terminate the pregnancy. She remembered Collin’s ruthless precision in the courtroom, his cold heart when it came to pleas and to empathy. He allowed for zero errors—whether it was a teenage kid making a stupid mistake or a mother who’d left her child in the care of someone who wasn’t fit to look after anyone else.
“So? It’s mine, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she sighed. She braced herself for the lecture.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, his expression eager and even...excited? That took her by surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want the baby. He’d been all hands and mouth that one night they’d spent together, but then the next day it was as if she hadn’t existed. Now, he liked the idea of her carrying his baby? Maybe she’d been wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t just the hard-nosed prosecutor, the man without a heart.
He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He put down his backpack on the terra-cotta stone tiles of the foyer and then turned to her.
“If it’s mine, then we need to do this.” He flipped open the black box lid, revealing a brilliant solitaire diamond that caught the sunlight and sparkled like fire. Suddenly, all coherent thought fled her mind.
Collin Baptista was asking her to marry him?
MADISON FELT STUNNED as she stared at the ring. Could this really be happening? He was asking her to be his wife? She glanced up at Collin. His green eyes were serious; this was no joke.
“So?” he asked, handing her the box. A respectable diamond, she noticed. It must’ve cost a pretty penny.
He ducked down quickly, opened his backpack and pulled out a bouquet of wilted roses. “Oh, and here.” He thrust them at her. She took the flowers but ignored the box.
That was his proposal? There was nothing romantic in it. Hell, she wasn’t even sure he liked her, much less loved her, and he was proposing marriage? Why? Because one of his little guys had slipped past her goaltender? The ring was impressive; he, however, was not.
“That’s your proposal.” Madison crossed her arms, feeling a flare of anger in her chest. This was the best he could do? He couldn’t even muster up an actual question? She’d always imagined when the time came for a man to propose marriage, it would go very differently than this.
“Well, yes. I’m making an honest woman of you.”
What? She glanced at his face, so smug, so confident, so sure she’d only have one answer for him. He hadn’t even gotten down on one knee. Not that she was the kind of girl who demanded old-fashioned subservience, but...why wasn’t he trying harder?
He attempted to hand her the velvet box, and her heart thudded in her chest.
“What year is it? 1812?” Madison jabbed a fist into her hip.
“Hey, hey.” Once more, Collin held out the box, and the diamond glinted brightly in the sunlight, but Madison wasn’t about to take it.
“I’m doing the right thing,” he said.
There it was again, Madison thought, that tone of superiority. The right thing. He was so certain about what that was, and yet, he hadn’t even asked her opinion. He’d made a unilateral decision.
“What makes you think I’m keeping the baby?” she asked, and she could tell by the expression on his face that that threw him for a loop. Even though she was, she hated that he was deciding for her.
“Because...you’re always the softhearted lawyer. You’re always telling the jury about how they should have pity on this client or that client, and I assumed...” He frowned at her and stopped talking, then ran a hand through his hair. “You have to keep this baby.”
“I think it’s my decision.”
“Oh, no, no.” Collin was
