“Orange juice with ice and water,” Elle said.
Anna nodded again. “I’ll have it for you in the dining room in just a couple moments.”
After Anna left, Elle turned to Brock. “I’m not really going to eat toast in a formal dining room, am I?”
He chuckled. “There’s a breakfast table in the sunroom.”
“Sounds wonderful,” she said and followed him into a sunroom with a skylight that revealed the stars of the San Francisco night sky. Blinds were at perfect half-mast to showcase a courtyard with trees draped in white lights. She sank onto an overstuffed chair next to a glass table with a fresh flower arrangement. She looked around the room and breathed a sigh of relief. “I like this room.”
“My father did, too,” Brock said, sitting beside her. “He liked this room best. Got up before sunrise and read two newspapers here before going into work every day. Carol wanted to redecorate, but I refused. She has changed several rooms in the house, but not this one.”
“Why do you call your mother Carol?” she asked.
“That’s her name,” he said.
“Still, most men call the woman who gave birth to them ‘Mother’ or ‘Mom.’”
His gaze grew shuttered. “She’s always been more Carol than Mother. Breeding was compulsory.”
Elle gasped. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”
He glanced toward the entry. “Here comes your toast. Thanks, Anna.”
Elle also thanked Anna and began to nibble the hot buttered bread. Anna had brought several different kinds. Any other time, she would have chosen wheat. Today she went straight for the sourdough. South Beach diet be damned. All she’d wanted since getting pregnant were carbs, carbs and more carbs. Thank goodness for prenatal vitamins.
Feeling Brock’s gaze on her, she took a sip of orange juice. Something about him made her nervous in an exciting, forbidden way. Still. Even after that terrible scene this morning. She glanced away, frowning to herself.
“Jelly?” he asked.
She shook her head and took another bite of toast. “This is perfect.”
His mouth lifted in a half-grin. Just as quickly, his smile fell. “How long have you known you were pregnant?”
Her throat closed around the bite of toast and she coughed, trying to swallow. She took another sip of juice. “Well, I haven’t been regular lately.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said.
She gnawed on her upper lip with her bottom teeth. “I suspected about six weeks ago.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Six weeks?”
“I’ve been nauseous since then. At first, I thought it might be an intestinal virus.” She shrugged. “Or stress. I avoided taking a home pregnancy test, but I made sure I was taking good vitamins. I was in denial,” she confessed. She just couldn’t believe she’d gotten pregnant by Brock, and she sure as heck had no clue what to do once her pregnancy was verified.
“So, how far along?” he asked.
“Three and a half months,” she said. “I saw the doctor two weeks ago. He said the nausea should pass soon. I’m still waiting,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I couldn’t figure out how. I kept rehearsing all these different ways and none of them seemed right.” Her stomach clenched and she dropped her piece of toast onto her plate. “I’ve had enough.”
“You’ve hardly eaten anything,” he said.
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
“But what about your health? What about the baby?” he demanded.
“I’m doing the best I can, and I’m taking prenatal vitamins. I have to believe that babies born with less food than I’m consuming have turned out fine, so I hope mine will, too.” She pushed the plate away and stood. “I should go home.”
Brock got to his feet, looming over her. “No. Stay here tonight.”
She shook her head, but he gently put his hands on either side of her face and pushed her hair behind her ears. “You need rest. When you wake up in the morning, you’ll feel better. Trust me.”
Elle looked into his eyes and felt her heart twist and tug with opposing feelings. She trusted him, but at the same time, she didn’t. She’d spent the last several months watching this man eat his competitors alive during the day and making her melt in his arms at night. He was passionate about the company. She’d never believed he could be equally passionate about her, yet when they’d been together, both of them had seemed to combust every time. She’d tried to tell herself it was just physical, but she’d known she was lying. She was falling for Brock. She had fallen for Brock.