Harlequin Presents January 2015 Box Set 1 of 2(128)

Lifting my chin, I looked at him, my fists clenched almost violently. “I thought I could marry you without love,” I whispered. Shuddering, I shook my head. “I can’t.” It was tantamount to admitting my own love for him. I felt like a pathetic fool. “I want the real thing.”

My arm shook as I continued to hold out the ring.

He stared down at the twenty-carat diamond ring as if it were poison. He seemed to shudder. “Keep it.”

“I can’t.” I pushed the ring into his hands. My heart hurt so much I could hardly keep from crying. “It’s better this way. You can go back to London, and I’ll be going to Romania to star in a movie....” The movie? Who cared about that? What was I even saying? I shook my head desperately. “We’ll work out custody. You can visit our baby whenever you want.”

He looked down at the enormous diamond ring, gleaming in his hand.

“Visit?” he said dully.

“Yes, of course, you...” My throat constricted. “I just want you to be free.”

“Free.” He lifted expressionless eyes to mine.

Unable to speak, I nodded.

“I thought I could make you happy.” His voice was like a sigh, the last breath of a dying man. He tried to smile even as I saw a suspicious sheen in his eyes. “But I can’t force you to marry me. Of course you deserve love. You deserve everything.”

My heart twisted. I felt as if I were drowning in the haunted sea of his eyes, seeing right through his armor to the anguished soul within. Was it possible I was wrong? Was there any other explanation for what I’d seen?

“What did you do last night?” I cried out.

Staring down at me, he sucked in his breath. Then he grimly shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me,” I begged. I knew I was making a fool of myself, but I couldn’t stop. If there was any chance, any chance at all that I was wrong... “What did you do when I left you last night?”

He stared down at me for a moment in the kitchen. Then he slowly shook his head.

“It’s better you don’t know,” he said quietly. Leaning forward, he cupped my cheek. “I will always provide for you and the baby, Diana.” Leaning down, he kissed me softly, one last time. “Take care of her. Be happy.”

And he was gone.

I stared after him, gazing at the empty doorway, standing on the cold tile floor wearing a robe, a tank top that didn’t quite cover my belly, skimpy sleep shorts and a dumb expression.

My stepfather’s lavish, enormous kitchen turned blurry around me and I realized I was crying. I couldn’t even feel the tears. All I could think was that I’d been so stupid. I’d let Edward St. Cyr break my heart not once, but twice....

“You are so stupid,” Madison said aloud, as if she’d read my mind and agreed wholeheartedly. Wiping my cheeks, I looked down at her sitting at the table. I’d forgotten she was there.

She was shaking her head in disgust. “You gave him up for a movie? No career can ever fill the place in your heart where love should be.” She gave a harsh laugh. “I should know.”

“He doesn’t love me,” I whispered.

“Are you insane?” She looked as if she thought I was. “Did you see the way he looked at you? And from everything Dad told me about how he’s been waiting on you hand and foot...” She snorted. “No man does that for a woman, unless he’s desperately in love. Especially a man like Edward St. Cyr.”

“He doesn’t love me,” I repeated, but my voice had turned uncertain. “He just said he didn’t.”

My stepsister looked at me incredulously. “You said you deserved a marriage based on love, and he agreed with you. It sounded like you didn’t love him.”

“What?” I put my hand to my forehead. A tremble was coming up through my body like an earthquake, rising from my feet to my legs to my heart. “Edward knows I love him. He has to know.”

“Did you tell him? Recently, I mean?”

“No, I...” I bit my lip. I’d told him in London, before he’d sent me away. But never since then. Desperately, I shook my head. “He doesn’t love me. He wanted to marry me for the baby’s sake, that’s all.” I looked down at my huge baby bump. “If he’d loved me...”

I sucked in my breath, covering my mouth with my hand.

If Edward had loved me, he would have devoted himself to me, night and day, waiting for me to finish work, letting me choose restaurants, taking me to the doctor, rubbing my feet. Driving watermelon and ice cream to my house at three in the morning. He would have let me choose the house we’d live in. I would have been more important than his career.