she’d seen him participate in, sitting just this way. Facing his opponent dead-on. He didn’t let them know they were opponents. Oh no. He greeted them with a charming smile and handshake. Otherwise he’d be giving too much away.
She unconsciously braced herself as he leaned her way.
“Why?” he asked, his voice soft but with an undercurrent of steel. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
She bit her lip, feeling heartless. But what could she say? She hadn’t truly decided what she was going to do. Right now, every day was about survival: submitting résumés for another job, getting enough food in her so she didn’t pass out, but not so much that she threw up.
Not an easy balancing act.
Finally she sighed, then attempted to put her thoughts into words. “Eventually...” She swallowed, studying the intricate pattern of light and dark wood pieces fitted together to create the handmade table where so many big family discussions had taken place in her life. “Once I had things figured out and stable, I would have let you know.”
“And what needs to be figured out?” His voice had gone low again, this time with warning.
Surprised, she glanced over at him. She’d known that Paxton was unusually devoted to his family and doted on all of his nieces. Every bit of that protective instinct was alive and well in his expression right now. But not for her...never for her. “Obviously a new job,” she said, hurt clipping her words.
“Obviously?”
“Yes, Paxton.” Her exasperation left her breathy. “Regardless of what happens between us or with this pregnancy, working together after this would not be pleasant...or professional.”
“Why not? Can’t you separate your emotions from your job?”
Not that much. “Don’t be ridiculous, Paxton.”
“What happened between us—”
“Was a mistake.”
He froze for a split second, as if he couldn’t believe her words. “Says who?”
“You—” she erupted, slapping her palm on the table with more force than she had intended. How dare he act like she was overreacting. “You did. With every phone call and email that contained plenty of instructions but a whole lot of nothing.” She couldn’t control the rise in volume. “You did this, Paxton.”
“You never said anything.”
“I slept with my boss!” She struggled for breath in the midst of her raging emotions. “When he leaves without waking you up and then never mentions it again, there could only be two explanations—he’s either too drunk to remember what happened or refuses to acknowledge what happened. There’s not a whole lot I can say to address either of those situations.”
“I wasn’t drunk,” he said quietly.
“Which leaves only one alternative.” Turning away, Ivy pressed her hand hard against her stomach. The chaotic emotions rushing through her did not help her morning sickness at all. Though why they called it that, she’d never know. Hers was more like morning, noon and night sickness.
“Are you okay?” Paxton asked, his voice sounding closer. Sure enough, a quick glance confirmed he was on his feet and halfway around the table already.
“No,” she snapped. She breathed slow and deep, in through her nose, out through her mouth. So far the only things she’d found that helped when the nausea hit at its random times were to keep very still and stay calm. This situation wasn’t conducive to either.
“Besides, there are other issues to consider.”
“Like what?”
She realized he wasn’t going to let her get away with not answering that question. But her brain was seriously on strike right now. Thinking things through wasn’t her strong point. All she knew was that anything she said about her family could potentially do a lot of damage.
Not just for herself and any custody battles she found herself in, but also for Jasmine. Even though her sister had a fiancé with clout now, the news of the Harden sisters’ true heritage could break her event-planning business if the McLemores decided to go after her.
“I can’t... I can’t talk about that right now. My stomach—” She hated to use illness to get herself out of this discussion, but at least this overwhelming sickness came in handy for something.
“Okay,” he conceded.
But she had a feeling she wasn’t getting off easy. Suddenly he stood before her with his legs braced and his arms crossed over his chest.
“But remember,” he said, “I can’t fix what I don’t know.”
“I’m not sure this can be fixed.” Ivy gasped against a wave of nausea. “I just...I need time.”
“We don’t have an infinite amount of that left.”
She glanced up to find him facing her, big body braced, arms crossed over his chest, causing his dress shirt to strain over smooth muscle. He opened his mouth. Then closed it. All while staring at her.
“What?” But she was almost afraid to ask. Paxton wasn’t the type of guy to be at a loss for words.
“Did you do this on purpose?”
Wow. Ivy swayed. Or did she? Maybe it just felt that way with her mind reeling. She really had been delusional to think he might feel anything for her...hadn’t she?
Her chest was too tight with hurt for her voice to come out more than a whisper. “Is that really how you see me?”
His answer was too matter-of-fact for her liking. “No. But people can hide a lot.”
Just like he had. He’d hidden a lot of suspicion behind caring, hadn’t he? “There’s nothing I can say to convince you that I didn’t deliberately get pregnant, Paxton,” she said with more resignation than conviction. “That’s gonna be a problem, isn’t it?”
“Probably.”
* * *
She doesn’t look so fierce in her sleep.
Paxton stared down at Ivy as she rested on the sofa in the Hardens’ front parlor. Her tousled hair looked the same as it had on the morning that he’d left her in his bed, but her face was thinner now. A slight frown rested between her brows, as if she couldn’t get comfortable, even in her sleep.
Uneasy with the softening of his emotional defenses, Paxton forced his gaze away from her to the surrounding room. He took in the antique furniture mixed with a few well-worn pieces and lots of soft feminine touches. The living space seemed well used and designed for comfort, while respecting the past.
“She’s plumb tuckered out all the time,” the older woman the sisters called Auntie said as she came up beside him.
Paxton glanced over at her, unease filtering through him. “Is this level of sickness dangerous? I don’t remember
