She shuddered at the thought. “Oh, yeah. That was real enough, but this trip, being here with you, feeling the baby move, picking out furniture. Everything just seems so … right.”
As Bronson wrapped an arm around her, Mia settled in closer to his side. They only had one more day here, and Mia had so much she wanted to tell him. So much she needed him to see about her life so he would understand her actions when he discovered the truth.
She rubbed the scar on her hand, as if to draw courage from the fateful night that had changed her life, molding her into the person she was today.
“You know I’m not lying about this baby.” Silence answered her, sending a stabbing pain through her chest. “I need to know you believe me, Bron.”
“I do.” His voice, thick with emotion, enveloped her. “I’ve been afraid to admit it for fear of losing another baby I loved, but I know.”
Months’ worth of worry, of fear, evaporated at his heartfelt declaration. He loved this child.
“I know this is probably hard for you, but I promise nothing is going to happen to this baby.” Mia rested her hand on Bronson’s denim-clad thigh. “I don’t know how to thank you for all you’ve done for me. Introducing me to Fabrizio … I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” He toyed with the ends of her hair. “I care about you and this baby. I wanted you to get a glimpse of your past. I have my family, and I’m glad I got to show you a side of yours.”
Mia glanced up at him. “You’ll be a wonderful father. You have such a loving family, and you’re all so close. This baby won’t want for anything.”
“My father passed away when I was ten,” he told her. “The media actually handled it better than my mother thought they would by letting us have our privacy. I always wanted to be like him. He was the man of the house, and it didn’t bother him at all that my mother was a Hollywood icon. Some husbands would’ve been jealous, but he was so proud of her.”
Mia watched a play of emotions cross Bronson’s face. “I knew my career in the film industry would come before anything, but once I had my footing, I wanted a wife, a mother for my children, and I wanted to be my dad. Devoted, loyal, loving.”
Why couldn’t he see he was all those things and more?
“I met Jennifer on a movie set and thought I’d found the one,” he went on, staring into the fireplace as if watching the movie unfold before him. “Then she lost the baby. We argued about everything. Looking back I know we weren’t compatible, but lust screws up the senses. She knew about my feelings toward Anthony—hell, everyone in the industry knows we don’t get along on set. She’d worked on a film with him in the past and told me he was the father of the child.”
Mia’s heart ached for him and for Anthony. This entire fiasco between these two was, she feared, going to get a whole lot worse before it got better.
“You know she was lying, right?” Mia asked. “I mean about Anthony. I can’t say if she had an affair or not with someone else, but I know Anthony and I know how much he loves his wife. I’ve seen firsthand how hard he fights for their marriage.”
Bronson snapped his gaze down to hers. “I never thought of her lying about the father, but when she threw that in my face—true or not—it shattered what little relationship we had left.”
“I’m not her, Bronson.” Mia lifted her hand, cupped his cheek and eased her body around just a bit more to face him. “I’m not lying to you. I assure you, Anthony and I are, and always have been, just friends. That’s why I stopped working for him—because I saw the struggle he was going through with Charlotte, and I knew he loved her or he would’ve just walked away at the first sign of scandal.”
Bronson’s blue eyes, which never failed to impress her, studied her face. “I know you’re not her. You’re a fighter and stand up for what you believe. You’re loyal and honest.”
Tell him, the voice in her head practically screamed, but Mia couldn’t do it. She couldn’t betray the trust of a friend. She just had to believe that Bronson would understand her reasoning once the truth came out.
“I’m not sure what kind of mother I’ll make,” she told him, easing back down against his side. “I mean, I haven’t had an example, and I’ve never really been around babies. One of my foster homes had a toddler, but I wasn’t there long enough to get attached.”
“You were bounced around a lot?”
Mia nodded. “Yeah. After my parents died, I was placed into four foster homes by the time I was ten. When I turned ten, I was placed in a home with other kids waiting to be adopted. I was there until I turned eighteen, and then I decided it was time to take control of my life and do something that pleased me. I had no one else to please or answer to.”
“I’m amazed at the woman you’ve become, Mia, considering you were so young when your parents were killed.”
Mia nodded, rubbing her scar. “Yeah. I was five.”
He slid a finger alongside hers. “And that’s where this came from?”
“I only had minor injuries, but my parents were killed. Sometimes life isn’t fair,” she murmured. “I may not be the best mother, but I will love this baby with every fiber of my being and always put her needs before my own.”
Bronson moved in front of her, taking her hand in his. “I have no doubt you’ll be a fantastic mother, Mia. I’m not worried about that one bit. You go into everything in life with excitement at full throttle and give 110 percent.
“That’s one of the reasons I brought you on a getaway.” He leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I want you to know that I believe you, that I trust you and that I want to see where this thing between us will lead. That’s all I can offer, but I hope you’ll be patient with me.”
Love speared through her, nearly bursting to get out. She’d never, ever felt like this—so alive, so happy. She wrapped her arms around Bronson, choking back tears.
“Love is patient,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She eased back, noting the desire in his eyes, knowing hers matched his. Sealing the new milestone in their journey was logical, and Mia hoped every time they made love he could see, feel, just how much she did love him.
Bronson’s strong hands slid up the skirt of the tunic-style dress Victoria had made for her. Warmth spread through her as he leaned in to capture her lips again, massaging her thighs.
Mia broke the kiss, coming to her feet. Gripping the hem of the garment, she pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. Desire shot straight through her as Bronson’s gaze slid up her body, pausing at her matching yellow bra-and-panty set.
“You always have the most amazing things on under your clothes,” he told her, coming to his feet.
Mia slid his polo shirt off as he worked his jeans down and kicked them aside. He palmed her shoulders and tugged her toward him until she fell against his hard, solid chest. Mia looked up just as his lips came crashing down on to hers.
The
