Rule's Property(22)

The ceremony itself had been quick but it seemed to make Courtney happy. She'd been agreeable to everything all day. He knew he'd made that quip about her not travelling anymore, but damn, he'd had to get it out there. Anyway, that hadn't been the problem. He'd seen her roll her eyes as if he weren't her boss but the smile had never left her eyes.

Not until he'd mentioned a baby.

At the subject, all the animation had left her face and she'd turned ashen, looking almost ill and gaunt within seconds.

Goddamnit. What in the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he learn? Why couldn't he think ahead like a reasonable human being and get his shit straight the first time?

Of course a discussion about having kids so soon might scare or worry her. There were any number of reasons for that, and like a dumbfuck, he'd had to blurt out something that should have been approached with care.

She was right. He was inconsiderate. Insensitive. But he swore to God, before the day was over, he'd get a fucking clue and give her whatever she wanted.

Because there was only one thing in life that he wanted, and that was Courtney Powell. No, scratch that. Courtney Rule.

Oh yeah. He liked the sound of that. Whatever happened, it was too damn late for her to get away from him now. He needed to quit worrying so much. She'd married him. She was his now. He'd make up his blunder to her somehow, and eventually, ease whatever fears she had about having children.

Yeah, he wanted kids someday. But they were still young. Anything could happen. Maybe they'd have a house full of children, maybe they'd have none.

When it came down to it, all he wanted was for Courtney to be happy. Well, happy with him.

Yeah, that's all he wanted.











Courtney walked through to her suite of rooms the second the elevator doors opened. Knowing she couldn't put the discussion off, she quickly changed out of the white dress into jeans and a t-shirt, ready for that particular reminder of what had started out to be the happiest day of her life to be gone.

What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she want a baby? That question was crazy; she did want a child. She wanted one desperately. But how could she be so selfish as to bring a child into the world just because she wanted one? What would happen to that baby if something happened to her and Nick? It would be left all alone in the world, all alone to face crushing heartache and pain. Courtney couldn't even take the remotest chance of that happening.

The memory of what she'd been through came back with an unmerciful vengeance. Cold panic ran through her bloodstream at the remembered trauma. And she admitted, it had been traumatic. Looking back, she knew she shouldn't have hidden her pain so well from Justine. She'd tried so hard to ease the older woman's burdens. But really, she'd been little more than a child and she'd done what she'd thought best at the time. But now she realized that she'd needed help. Maybe if she'd had counseling things would be different now.

But they weren't.

She trembled as she prepared herself to face Nick. She wouldn't have a child. She couldn't. That was a heartache that she'd have to live with, but there was no reason that Nick should have to endure the same emptiness in his life. She loved him too much to even think of letting that happen.

With a sinking heart, she trailed back into the living area, not surprised in the least to see Nick tensed up, standing next to the wall of windows, a highball glass in his hand.

At her entry, he turned to face her and downed the drink. Attempting to steady her nerves, she took a seat in the chair next to the sofa and waited.

She didn't have long to wait. He set the glass down, but instead of sitting on the sofa as she'd expected, as she'd intended, he came directly in front of her, into her personal space and maneuvered her legs apart with his hands on her knees. He came down on his haunches between them with a sigh. With a gentle hand, he speared his fingers through her hair and gazed at her, his heart in his eyes. "Sweetheart, I shouldn't have said what I did. Of course there's no rush. Baby, you're worrying for nothing."

Unable to control her need to touch him, she sank her fingers into his hair. The chemistry that had always been so strong between them hadn't lessened a bit. Her eyes held his as she savored what it had been like between them, even if it had only been that way for a short while. With the words she was about to speak, everything between them would change.

She took a stabilizing breath and began. "I'm sorry that the subject of a baby never came up between us. I don't know why it never did." She swallowed and continued, "Of course you want a family," her eyes filled with tears and she shrugged her shoulders as her hand dropped away from him to land in her lap. "I can't have a child, Nick."

He was silent for a moment and although she was looking down at her hands, she knew he studied her intently before he carefully spoke. "Why, sweetheart? Is there a physical problem that precludes you carrying a baby?"

She bit her lip and shook her head, misery like a lead ball in her belly.

"What's wrong, then?" he whispered, his thumb rubbing along her cheekbone.

She took a deep breath and lifted her face, but kept her eyes downcast. "Being orphaned was . . . was devastating," she answered, although that was only the tip of the iceberg.

He flinched at her words and his touch on her face tightened. "Yeah, but now you have me. We have each other." His voice reflected confusion, genuine concern, and at the same time, ultimate possession.

Courtney bit her lip, so badly wanting to go into his arms. She knew what he would say. She knew he'd say they didn't have to have kids. But she also knew he wanted a family, he deserved his own family. And he could still have that. Just not with her.

With her lip between her teeth, as he stared at her face, she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she brushed them away. "I know losing your dad was hard on you and your siblings. I don't want . . . I don't want to downplay that loss. But you still had your mom, and the house you'd grown up in. You had stability in your life." Her words came to a quavering halt as she thought about what she'd say next.

His fingers became caressing against her scalp. "I realize you had it bad, baby. I've always known that. It's one of the reasons I've always ached to take care of you. Don't you get that?"

She nodded her head. "I know, and I love you for it." She finally found the courage to meet his eyes. "This is so sad, you know?"

"Why does it have to be sad?" He questioned with something close to panic in his voice.

She looked away from him again. "I can't give you the family you want, I just can't do it. I can't ever, ever bring a child into this world, knowing there's a possibility it might go through what I went through." Her throat began aching with unshed tears but she persevered before she broke down. She had to make him understand. "See, if I don't ever have a baby, then there's no chance it could ever lose its mommy and daddy, you know?"

There was utter silence in the room except for the tick of the antique clock on the mantel. After a few seconds she felt Nick's hand release her hair and then he lifted her chin. Her eyes met his and she was immediately hit by the anguish she saw reflected there. And it wasn't anguish for his loss of a child, no; she knew it was anguish for what she was feeling. His voice was rough and implacable when he spoke. "Then we won't have any. It's as simple as that."

Courtney closed her eyes and began sobbing in earnest. "I knew you'd say that," she got out between tears. She began crying even harder, shaking her head at the same time. The harder she cried, the harder she shook her head.

Nick tried to take her in his arms, but she pushed his hands away and stood up to walk across the room before facing him again. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "I love you." She saw pain and confusion in his eyes, so she tried to make him understand how much she loved him. She took a deep breath and continued more softly, "I love the way you waited for me all those years. I love the way you can't always hide your impatience. I love the way you're so selfish about me that you sometimes forget to think of me first. I love the way you are. And I love the man you've become." She halted as her voice cut out and she licked her lips. "But we can't be married. I can't have the children that I know you want." She bit her lip and took a shuddering breath. "I'll always love you, and I promise, I swear to God, that I'll love the children you'll have someday." She swallowed, forcing the words out. "And I promise that I won't make trouble for you. I . . . I'll be happy for you," her voice cracked on a sob, "and for the woman you eventually marry."

With those words, Courtney turned and fled to her suite, locking the door behind her.











Nick took a few stumbling steps backwards until he fell back on the sofa. His head sank down into his hands and he let out a tortured, shuddering moan. What the hell had she gone through? He'd known it had been bad for her, but why hadn't he seen exactly how badly the death of her parents had scarred her?

If he'd realized, if she hadn't hidden it so well, he'd have done things differently. What, he didn't exactly know. He should have seen that she needed professional help, that she needed grief counseling. Maybe he should have married her the second she turned eighteen. Then, at least, he could have held her every night, been there for her the last six years, giving her comfort every day. Made her feel that she belonged, that she wasn't alone, made her realize that she was loved.