Carrying the Lost Heir's Child(25)

                Desire was easier to deal with than the harsh realities waiting them both.

                Even when she’d spent the night in his bed, he had time to open up. Yet here he was making breakfast on a Saturday morning like some domestic family man when so many secrets hovered between them.

                Soon, he’d reveal the truth—or at least all he was able to.

                Damn it. He wanted more from her than sex. He hadn’t expected this...whatever “this” was. The fact so many lies lay between them only cheapened anything they would start to build together, but being stuck between the rock and the proverbial hard place was a position he’d wedged himself into. And he wasn’t going to be able to come out any time soon.

                How the hell was he supposed to know he’d start actually wanting more from Lily? He hadn’t planned on a baby, hadn’t planned on Lily being a permanent fixture in his life. Of course now she’d be part of his life no matter what, but beyond the baby, he wanted more.

                Nash scooped up the cheesy, veggie-filled omelet and slid it onto the plate. After pouring a tall glass of juice, he headed toward the bedroom where he’d left Lily sleeping.

                Gripping the plate and glass, Nash turned into the bedroom and froze in the doorway at the seductive sight before him. Those creamy shoulders against his dark sheets had his body responded instantly. He never had a woman pull so many emotions from him, have him so tangled in knots and have him questioning every motive he had for furthering his career.

                But Lily had a power over him that scared him to death, because once she uncovered all of his secrets—and there were many—she’d never want to see him again. Now that he’d realized he wanted more from her, he also had another revelation—Lily would end up hurt in the end and because he was slowly opening to her, he would be destroyed, as well.

                He had nobody to blame but himself.

                Being cut from her life, from their child’s life was not an option. She may hate men who used money and power to get what they wanted, but he wouldn’t back down, not when his child was the central point.

                Nash moved into the room, setting the plate and glass on the nightstand. Easing down onto the bed, Nash rested his hip next to hers. Those sheets had never looked better, gliding over and across Lily’s curves and silky skin, making her look like a pinup model.

                The urge to peel down those covers and reveal her natural beauty overwhelmed him. He’d gotten her from the trailer to his rental home. He was easing her into his life slowly. The ache to be closer to her exploded inside him. He had to touch her, had to feel that delicate skin beneath his rough hands.

                Nash’s fingertips trailed over Lily’s bare arm, leaving goose bumps in the path. Even in sleep she was so responsive to his touch.

                Lily stirred, her head shifting toward him, strands of dark hair sliding across her shoulder, and her lids fluttered open. For the briefest of seconds a smile spread across her face before she threw back the covers and sprinted to the adjoining bath.

                Morning sickness. Nash hated that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to make her feel better.

                He pushed off the bed and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor toward the bathroom. He reached into the cabinet beside the vanity, grabbed a cloth and wet it with cold water before turning to her. He may not be able to stop her misery, but he could at least try to offer support.

                Nash pulled her hair back, reaching around to place the cold cloth on her forehead. Hopefully that would help the nausea.