Kitabı oku: «Six Hot Summer Nights», sayfa 4
Five
Mia wanted nothing more than to forget the date with Bronson and hide in her house for the duration of her pregnancy.
Her pregnancy. She never thought those words would come to her mind when she wasn’t in love, wasn’t married and wasn’t planning for a baby. But there was nothing she could do now except move forward and be upfront and honest with Bronson. And she would have to tell him … sooner rather than later.
But no matter how Bronson reacted, she wouldn’t think of this baby as a mistake or a burden. The baby didn’t ask to be conceived by two people who couldn’t control their emotions.
Talk about a mood spoiler. Mia didn’t put on her ugliest, lounge-around-the-house bra and panties, but her plans for her best lingerie were swiftly abandoned. After she dropped this bombshell tonight, she seriously doubted Bronson would want to see how she filled out her newest Victoria’s Secret purchase. And why was she even having those thoughts? That’s the same path of destruction that had gotten her in this situation.
Dammit, they’d used a condom.
If she thought she’d been nervous before she found out the results, that anxiety was nothing compared to the thought of telling Bronson that he was going to be a father. She recalled that he’d been engaged before and they’d been expecting a baby, but his ex-fiancée had miscarried. What would he feel now? How would he react to another baby?
She’d rehearsed in her head over and over just the right way to say it, but was there really a right way to upend someone’s life? She certainly wasn’t his fiancée, was barely his lover. So how were they going to handle this arrangement?
Not only that, this scandal would send the media into another feeding frenzy. First she’s accused of sleeping with Anthony and breaking up his marriage, and now she’s carrying Bronson’s child.
Just wait until the media circus discovered the two men were brothers. Wouldn’t that just burn up the phone lines from reporter to reporter? She didn’t want to even think about the headlines surrounding her when that time came.
Mia nearly laughed at the irony. Now she knew two secrets that would surely have Bronson reevaluating life and the hand it dealt him.
When her doorbell rang, she jumped. With a calming breath and a quick prayer, Mia left the comfort of her bedroom, smoothed a hand down her blue halter dress and went to answer the door.
She greeted Bronson with a smile, but just seeing him caused an ache she hadn’t expected. She truly cared what he would do and say, but she was especially interested to see how he would handle this news emotionally, because soon another bomb would drop in his life that was just as big as him being a father.
His eyes raked over her. “You have no idea how glad I am we aren’t going out. You look amazing.”
Mia swallowed the lump of guilt and tamped down the arousal from his words. “Thank you.”
She closed the door behind her and accepted his hand as he led her to his black luxury SUV. Just as she grabbed for the handle, he reached around her and opened the door. But before she could climb in, he took her shoulders and turned her back against the side of the car.
“I can’t wait any longer for a sample.”
Bronson’s lips came down on hers and Mia had no choice but to melt into him. His hands settled on her waist as he pulled her lower body against his. With a grip on his muscular biceps, Mia returned the kiss with all the passion she had because—baby or no baby—she still craved this man like no other.
Obviously, their time apart hadn’t banished her from his mind. In a sense she was thrilled that the ever-present attraction wasn’t one-sided, but his feelings were likely going to change when he learned about the baby.
Bronson stepped back. “We may have to have the main course first.”
Mia didn’t even have to ask—she knew the main course was not something his chef had whipped up in the kitchen.
She climbed up into the SUV, sighing when he closed her door. She could do this. Millions of women broke the news of pregnancy all the time. Once the secret was out in the open, they’d be able to move on and deal with the consequences of their night together.
Bronson climbed in and brought the engine to life. When they were on the freeway headed to his Beverly Hills mansion, he took hold of her hand. “Everything okay? You seem awfully quiet.”
“Everything’s fine,” she told him, nerves growing stronger with each passing second. “Just ready to relax.”
Yeah, as if that were possible.
“You’re not still feeling sick are you? Did that pass?”
Mia suppressed the groan. “It passed.” But it’ll be back in the morning.
“Great, because my cook made the most amazing Alfredo lasagna with a freshly tossed salad and vinaigrette dressing. I also have Italian bread and tiramisu for dessert.”
Impressed, Mia smiled. “Wow. You know I’m Italian, right? I’m a harsh critic.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and laughed. “I always aim to please, Mia, and I know you’ll enjoy everything I have in store for this evening.”
The Mia who’d initially agreed to come have dinner with him would no doubt enjoy everything he had to offer. The pregnant, shocked, petrified Mia … not as eager. She had a feeling a lot of harsh words might be spoken and feelings would be hurt before the end of the night.
But when did she announce the news? Before dinner when they’d barely had a chance to talk? Or after when he’d no doubt put those seductive moves on her?
Definitely between the dinner and before the moves, because Mia knew once he started roaming those talented hands over her body, she’d be done. And it would be very, very wrong to take advantage of the situation when she had information that would almost certainly change the mood.
But would he be excited about the baby, about another Dane entering the dynasty? Mia hadn’t paid that much attention to the press when he’d been engaged and lost a baby before, since she’d worked for Anthony at that time. But she knew a little bit about Bronson. He was a family man, and that loss of a child had to have nearly destroyed him. How would he accept another baby? And Mia couldn’t help but selfishly wonder where she factored into this equation.
As they pulled into his gated drive, Bronson punched in a code and the lacey gates, complete with wrought-iron initials, parted and slid to either side of the drive.
She didn’t know what to expect of Bronson’s house, maybe a version of his mother’s in that sleek white, Mediterranean style. But Bronson’s three-story home exuded masculinity with the dark brick and large windows on each floor. Tall palms surrounded the curved home with a circle drive. No frilly flowers for him. Everything was green, lush and thriving.
“Your home is beautiful, Bronson.”
He pulled into the attached four-car garage, closing the door behind them, sending them into darkness. “I’m not here often enough to enjoy it, but I do love it.”
Would she be too forward if she asked about someday filling a home this large with a wife and children? Probably not the way to approach the topic of her pregnancy. God, she just had to say it. Once the words were out, they could deal with it, but her courage had failed to accompany her tonight.
She toyed with the locket around her neck, as if to draw strength from the two loving people pictured inside.
They exited the car and Bronson led her into the house through the kitchen any chef would die to just spend one day in—four built-in stoves, a brick pizza oven, three sinks mounted beneath gray concrete countertops. Dark mahogany cabinets made the large space look and feel masculine.
“Do you know what I’d do to have a kitchen like this?” she asked, running her fingertips along the grooved edges of the counter. “I love to cook in my spare time. I think I subscribe to every cooking magazine there is. With all this counter space, the stoves … My mind is working overtime.”
Bronson tossed his keys onto the counter. “Feel free to come over anytime and let that imagination run wild. I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”
She doubted that invite would last once she told him about the baby. Amazing how quick she’d gotten used to saying the words in her head without feeling the need to scream or cry. But they were going to have a baby, so why worry about something she couldn’t change?
“Everything smells delicious,” she told him. “Is it going to taste just as good?”
Bronson extended his hand toward the open eating area at the end of the kitchen. “Let’s go find out.”
She smiled at the round black table with high-back chairs, a simple white orchid in a slender glass vase and bright white plates waiting for the meal.
“Table for two?” she asked, throwing a smile over her shoulder. “You did go all out, didn’t you? Or should I say your chef did.”
Bronson pulled a chair out for her, brushed her hair from her shoulder and placed a gentle, tingling kiss right below her ear. “I may not have made the meal, but the rest is all me. I never need help impressing a woman.”
Excitement mixed with guilt curled low in her belly. “Is that what you’re trying to do? Impress me?”
“How am I doing?”
Exceptional. Wonderful. Perfect.
And why couldn’t this night end the way she wanted, ached for it to? Why couldn’t she have discovered the pregnancy tomorrow? Just one more night with him would’ve fulfilled her fantasies for years to come. Because she knew, once she dropped this bombshell, that would kill anything that had sparked weeks ago.
“Doing well so far,” she told him, easing down into the chair.
Bronson brought over two full bowls of salad with dressing and fresh bread. Mia couldn’t taste much, not for the secret on the tip of her tongue. She was a fraud, a liar. The kind of woman she despised.
Finally, she dropped her freshly buttered bread back onto the plate. “I can’t do this.”
With his fork halfway to his mouth, Bronson froze, eyes coming up to meet hers. “I’m sorry?”
Unable to stay seated any longer, Mia came to her feet and stood behind her chair, gripping the back. “I can’t sit here and pretend this is going to go somewhere when I know it can’t.”
Bronson’s fork clattered to his salad bowl. “What are you talking about, Mia? Are you having second thoughts about spending the evening with me?”
“Not at all, but you may have second thoughts about me when I tell you that …”
God, it was so much harder to say the words out loud, instead of just in her head. She’d never spoken them before and now that she was ready … well, she wasn’t ready.
Bronson came to his feet, too, crossed to her and took her hands. “Come into the living room. You look like you’re ready to pass out.”
Funny, that’s exactly how she felt and it had nothing to do with the morning sickness she’d been having.
Bronson led her to one of the two oversized leather sofas. She eased down, praying to find the right words, praying he wouldn’t treat her differently. Praying he’d accept this baby.
And in all honesty, that’s what everything boiled down to. With her background of foster homes and an unstable lifestyle, she just wanted this baby to be accepted and loved by Bronson. If he didn’t love her, that was fine, but this baby didn’t deserve to be shunned or kept from knowing his family.
He took a seat next to her, grabbing hold of one of her hands and bringing it to his lips. “Did something happen? Yesterday you seemed fine when we discussed our dinner date.”
“That’s because yesterday I was fine.” Other than morning sickness. “And I’m fine today.” Other than the morning sickness. “It’s just my life has changed drastically since you saw me last.”
His eyes roamed over her body and back up to her face. “You look the same. What is it?”
“I’m pregnant.”
There, the words were out in the open and the world hadn’t stopped spinning. Well, hers hadn’t. She couldn’t say the same for Bronson, who had just gone a shade paler.
“Pregnant?” he repeated.
Mia nodded slowly, afraid of what he’d say or do next.
“Now I understand why you’re hesitant to be here with me.” He came to his feet, as if he were afraid to sit next to her, touch her hand as he was. “Have you told the father? I mean, you two obviously aren’t still involved or you wouldn’t have agreed to come here, right?”
Mia placed an arm around her abdomen, trying to keep the hurt from seeping in even more. He didn’t understand what she was saying. She’d never thought of that scenario when she’d rehearsed all of this in her head.
“Actually, we are still somewhat involved,” she told him, looking up because she had to say this to his face and be brave. “You’re the father, Bronson.”
Six
Bronson heard the words, but he couldn’t believe life could be this cruel. Another woman, another baby flashed through his mind and along with that came the hurt and betrayal he’d worked so hard to bury.
“I’m not the father, Mia.”
Mia jerked, eyes wide. “Excuse me?”
Bronson shoved his hands in his pockets. “I believe you’re pregnant, but I’m not the father. We used protection.” And then he remembered and that pit in his stomach deepened. “Your condoms.”
In an instant, she was on her feet, standing mere inches from him. “Are you implying I did this on purpose? Do you remember that night? Do you remember how I said good night and it was you who kissed me? You who backed me into the room and hiked up my dress?”
Bronson remembered … all too well, in fact. He remembered the rush to get her dress off, the rush as he fumbled with the condom and the pleasure he’d experienced like no other.
All the accusations surrounding her and Anthony flashed through his mind. How she’d supposedly broken up his marriage, how their affair had lasted several years.
“I know how it went down, Mia.” Nausea threatened to overtake him, but he couldn’t back down. “We used your condoms and now you’re pregnant. Pretty coincidental, don’t you think?”
In a flash, her palm connected with his cheek. The sting didn’t even compare to the spearing pain running through him. He couldn’t handle another baby that wasn’t his. He could not, would not go down this path again. Nor would he be trapped, if somehow he really was the father, into a relationship or blackmailed for money.
“You expect me to take your word about something this serious?” he asked, rubbing his jaw.
Was that her angle? Was she trying to get money so she didn’t have to work or so she could get into some headlines?
God, either scenario was a mess and fodder for all the gossip rags. He didn’t know her angle, didn’t care. His attorney would eat her alive and hopefully they would keep this insane accusation out of the media’s hands.
How the hell had he let his guard down so fast, so easily with this woman? He’d wanted to stay close because he didn’t trust her. Damn. How had his plan so completely backfired? Now he certainly didn’t trust her.
“What is your angle, Mia?” Bronson crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at her. He may as well be direct. “Was this your plan all along? To trap me? Does Anthony know you’re pregnant, supposedly with my child?”
Mia stepped back. “Anthony? Why would I tell him? You’re the first person I’ve told.”
He had a hard time believing that. “You two looked pretty cozy when I found you together in Cannes. How do I know the baby isn’t his?”
“How dare you? I am not a liar and I am not out to trap you into anything. I’m laying all the facts out there so we can deal with this baby who didn’t ask to be brought into this world and I will not …”
Her words ended on a very persuasive hiccup as tears filled her eyes. She spun around, dropping her head to her chest.
Wow. Maybe he should cast her in his next film. She was damn convincing, but he wasn’t falling for any of her theatrics.
“I want a DNA test as soon as possible,” he told her. “I’ve been down this road before, Mia, and it didn’t end well for me. Though I’m sure you already knew about the baby I lost.”
Mia turned back to him, wiping her damp cheeks. “I do remember hearing about your ex-fiancée who lost the baby. I’m so sorry about that, but I assure you I love this baby already and will do everything to keep it safe.”
Her soft tone made him want to believe she was truly sorry, but still, he didn’t want to revisit the past with his ex-fiancée and the baby that ended up not being his, and he sure as hell didn’t want to be living this nightmare again.
“I won’t go through this again, Mia. I won’t start a family with a woman I can’t trust.”
Mia’s face paled at his words. “I’m just as shocked and scared as you. I never intended to get pregnant. If you don’t want to be part of this child’s life, that’s your loss. But I will love this child and I will provide for it with or without your help. I’ve been alone my entire life. I’m used to it.”
A sliver of Bronson wanted to believe this baby was his. Though he wasn’t in love with Mia, he’d always wanted children to carry on the Dane dynasty, a wife to love. He wanted what his parents had had before his father’s death.
But he had to be realistic. Mia probably saw this as her way to extort money from him, even if she claimed to not want part of his fortune.
“I won’t pay you anything until I know for sure who this baby belongs to,” he told her, not caring one bit that she looked like she was on the verge of tears again.
“I would never ask for anything from you,” she said through gritted teeth. “I thought you should know, but if this is the attitude you’re going to take, I don’t even want you in my baby’s life. We deserve better.”
A psychological ploy used many times by thousands of women to trap the man into giving in. He wasn’t falling for it. Now more than ever he needed to stay close to figure out exactly what her angle was.
“I assure you, Mia, if this baby’s mine, I will be part of his life.” He stepped closer to the woman who drove him insane on so many levels. “And if this baby’s mine, whether I like it or not, I will be part of your life. Count on it.”
Mia’s lips thinned. “I don’t want you in my life. Not after the accusations you’ve just hurled at me. I would never lie about something as serious as a baby. And I assure you, I haven’t been with another man in over a year and, no, it was not Anthony. He was my employer and friend, that’s all.”
Yet again, she sounded and looked so convincing. And there was that part of him that wanted to believe her. He didn’t even want to think of Anthony Price’s hands on her willowy, soft body. Didn’t want to think of another man’s baby growing inside her. Not that he wanted a baby with her, either. Other than the sexual, physical attraction, what did they have in common?
Sure, before this bombshell, he’d considered seeing where that attraction could lead. But now …
Dammit. Why? Just … why?
Mia moved past him, charging back to the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” he asked, following her.
“To call a cab.” She pulled her cell from the purse she’d left on the center island. “I think it’s best if we both cool down and think rationally before talking about this again.”
“I’ll drive you home.” He took the cell from her hand and hit the End button. “There’s no need to call a cab. The paparazzi would get wind of your leaving here in tears and who knows what story they’d make up.”
Mia stared at him, her face red from crying, her makeup smeared in one corner of her eye. And she was still beautiful. Alluring and simple all in one. But the most important question was, Was she a first-class liar who’d set out to trap him?
Only time would tell.
The pain sliced through her. Agony, frustration, despair. Even a week after dropping the news on Bronson, she still had that sickening pit in her stomach.
Mia curled up on her four-poster bed, refusing to cry. Expecting a child should be a joyous time in every woman’s life, but this moment was anything but joyous.
Toying with the bronze beading on her comforter, Mia thought about the life growing inside her. Most women ran to their mothers for advice, or a sister or best friend. Who did she have? Seriously? She’d purposely engrossed herself in work so she could forget that she’d never had anyone in her life who cared … other than her parents, who’d died when she’d been only five years old. Her few friends had busy lives of their own. Too busy to call and share the news or borrow a shoulder to cry on.
Never before had being alone bothered her; she actually enjoyed being independent. But now, when her life was taking a dramatically sharp turn, she truly wished she had someone.
She hadn’t expected Bronson to take the news well, but to accuse her of sabotaging the condom to trap him? That was beyond absurd. Once Bronson calmed down and could think rationally, would he believe her? Would Olivia and Victoria be happy or just as skeptical?
Oh, God. Would Olivia still let her remain in such a personal, intimate position? She needed this job, especially now with a baby coming—no way would she take any money from Bronson. That certainly wasn’t the reason she’d told him.
No, she’d told him out of consideration and, dammit, because it was the right thing to do. So why was she allowing all this guilt to consume her?
Her blood pressure soared once again at the thought of his believing the worst. But stepping back and looking at it from his point of view, she could somewhat understand how he’d distrust her. They had used a condom—her condom—and he really didn’t know her.
But the accusations he threw at her still cut deep. She prided herself on honesty and built her life on always telling the truth. Of course, that was before she saw the damning, life-altering file on Anthony’s desk mere days before she started working for Olivia.
On a groan, Mia rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Her locket slid around her neck and tickled her ear.
Why did her life have to end up so complicated? Why couldn’t she be like millions of other women who felt the joy and elation of having a baby? She’d always fantasized about telling the man of her dreams he would be a daddy. Now all her fantasies were shot.
But what did she expect, going to bed with a man she barely knew? Karma surely wasn’t this cruel. She hadn’t wanted any personal involvement with Bronson, especially until the secret of his illegitimate brother came out, and now she’d thrown herself smack dab in the center of his life—whether he wanted to admit it or not.
Mia glanced over at her clock and knew she couldn’t avoid the inevitable. Monday morning came too fast, and now she had to get ready to head to the main house, spend the entire day with Olivia and pretend she wasn’t hiding two major secrets from this woman.
As she made her way to her adjoining bath, Mia figured she deserved the good pity party she’d thrown for herself all weekend, but now it was time to take charge and stand strong. This was her life, she was bringing a baby into it and she needed to have a firm, solid foundation for them both to stand on.
Once Mia was ready, both with her appearance and mind-set, she headed to the main house where she would work just as she did any other day.
Should she mention the pregnancy?
From a boss/employee standpoint, absolutely. But this was Bronson’s mother, which forced the situation into personal territory. She honestly didn’t know how to handle this delicate matter.
She and Bronson needed to have an adult conversation that didn’t involve accusations and other harmful words in order to head in the right direction for this baby.
A wave of giddiness overwhelmed her as she followed the wide, palm-lined sidewalk to the patio doors of Olivia’s office. For once in her life, Mia had someone to focus on other than herself. The thought both thrilled and terrified her. She didn’t have the best examples of parenting growing up and she’d never been around babies, but she knew, without a doubt, that this baby would never, ever wonder if it was loved.
Love. Isn’t that all anybody ever wanted? To be loved, unconditionally, just for who they are and not for their accomplishments or what they could give in return.
One day, Mia vowed, she would find that love.
“Ah, there’s my beautiful assistant.” Olivia poured herself a small glass of juice from the tray the cook provided every morning with fresh juices and fruit. “Care for something?”
Mia shook her head. Thanks to the crackers by her bed, she’d been able to make it here. No way was she going to jinx her good luck with anything else.
“I’m fine right now. Thanks.”
Mia started to leave the office and head to her own when Olivia stopped her. “Is something wrong, dear?”
Cringing at the guilt that consumed her, Mia smiled. “Didn’t sleep well last night. I’ll perk up in a bit.”
With a smile on her nearly wrinkle-free face, Olivia nodded. “As long as you’re feeling better. Did you just have a twenty-four-hour bug?”
More like the nine-month kind.
Mia shrugged, unable to think of a way not to lie, but not to reveal the truth, either. “I’m just glad I’m able to come in today. Working from home isn’t the same. I feel more productive in my office here. I did manage to complete your itinerary for the next two months and we can go over it just as soon as I get my computer booted up and check for an email confirmation for one more interview.”
Fleeing before she had to stay in the same room with the woman who was her baby’s grandmother, Mia went straight to her spacious office overlooking the Olympic-size pool.
The more time she could spend in here, alone, the better. Once she and Bronson had a plan, then she wouldn’t feel so jittery around Olivia.
Mia sat down and turned on her computer. On a sigh she glanced at the gold-framed photograph hanging above the chaise at the other end of her office. The timeless portrait had been made into posters and paintings for decades. A young, smiling Olivia with her glossy, dark, upswept hair and body-hugging gold dress as she posed with her first Oscar … which, according to the time line Mia now knew about, was almost two years after giving up Anthony in a secret, well-paid adoption.
Mia looked at this picture in a whole new light now. A hand slid around to her flat abdomen as she thought of the fear and worry Olivia must’ve experienced. Mia couldn’t even imagine giving up a child, but she knew Olivia must’ve had her reasons. What had changed in Olivia’s life from that adoption to four years later when she’d given birth to Bronson?
All Mia knew was Bronson and Victoria’s father had been Olivia’s one and only husband. Perhaps her career and relationship status combined, forced her into giving up Anthony.
Mia couldn’t help but wonder how Olivia had felt the second time she gave birth to a son. Having Bronson probably brought bittersweet memories.
Mia’s thoughts always drifted back to Bronson and that night in Cannes when he’d entered her suite. She should’ve told him no, considering what she knew regarding Anthony, but how could she when his mouth had taken over and his hands had started their journey up her dress?
Sometimes she thought of that night and it moved through her mind in a haze of slow motion, almost as if it was a dream. Making love all night. The soft, heated whispers in the dark. The kisses. Ah, the kisses had rendered her speechless. The man had captivated her.
They had an amazing night of sex with no promises and in the final days of the festival, they’d appeared together for the cameras. Simple, no complications.
And now she was pregnant. So much for keeping it simple.
She wished more than anything that she could keep her personal feelings out of this, but she couldn’t. Even though Bronson had said some hurtful things to her, she was still every bit as attracted to him as she’d been in Cannes. Perhaps if she could get that night out of her head, she’d be better off.
Except that’s all that consumed her thoughts. Her days, her nights. Bronson Dane and his smooth touches, his Prince Charming–like qualities.
“Mia, darling.”
Olivia’s buttery-smooth voice drifting from across the grand mahogany desk pulled her from the memories of Cannes back to the fact that her lover’s mother stood across from her.
“You’ve been staring at the screen for two minutes, and I said your name twice.” Olivia smiled, crossed her arms over her ivory pants suit and tilted her head. “Would you like to talk about whatever it is that has your mind elsewhere?”
Mia closed her eyes, wishing Bronson would stay out of her head so she could work. “I’m sorry, Olivia.”
The Grand Dane slid off her diamond-studded reading glasses and smiled. “My dear, you have nothing to be sorry about. Now, let’s talk. What’s bothering you, darling?”
Mia sighed, acknowledging that this woman was relentless in getting what she wanted. She’d given birth to three very successful children, raised two and didn’t get to the top of her game by not reading other people.
Mia could talk about some things, but not the main thing.
How did she start?
“You think I don’t recognize the signs?”
Mia froze. “Olivia—”
The starlet smiled. “I know when a woman is infatuated with a man. Especially when that man is my son.”
Mia breathed a sigh of relief and came to her feet. “I’m not infatuated with Bronson. I’m just …” Having his baby.
“Mia, honey, I know you don’t have people in your life. I know you grew up under extreme circumstances, which makes me all the more proud of how you’ve excelled.” Olivia rested her hands, palms down, on the glossy desktop. “I was young once and I know all about matters of the heart. So, believe me when I say I’ve been where you are.”