That reminds me of the reason I willingly followed him up here in the first place, and I push away, needing the safety of my clothes and some distance.
When I’m dressed, despite Vincent’s dramatic groan of protest, I stalk over to the wall and hit the lights, turning to face him with no small amount of nerves.
“We need to talk.”
Chapter Twenty Three
I see him tense at my tone before he nods and gestures toward the seating area, his manners kicking in as he waits for me to sit before taking his own seat.
“If you’re going to tell me to get lost again, dove, I’m afraid I—”
“No, Vincent.” I swallow nervously and pick at the chiffon lining of my deep blue dress. “I should have told you when you came over at Thanksgiving, but I-I needed some time to think, and then, I kind of lost my nerve,” I confess, feeling guilt eat at me.
“What is it, dove?” he asks, shuffling a hand through his hair. “Nothing you can tell me will change anything. Don’t be nervous.”
I snort silently, thinking miserably that everything’s going to change.
His quiet strength only serves to wind me tighter, and I shiver, bringing my gaze up to his. It’s now or never, I think, sucking in a deep breath to steady the wild racing of my heart.
I’ve been assuming that he’ll be happy—wishful thinking, I know—but now that I’m about to tell him I wonder if Vincent will be as happy as I want him to be. He’s a tycoon playboy, used to getting his way and doing what he wants.
What if a baby cramps his style?
Well, too damn bad! You didn’t knock yourself up, sugar!
With that conviction spurring me on I bite the bullet and just blurt it out, closing my eyes against his intense stare.
“I’m pregnant.”
The air around me freezes, and I keep my eyes tightly shut like a coward, not wanting to see it if he’s not happy. I know it sounds foolish, but I’d rather not know if this news is not welcome.
I love him too much to hate him, but I’m dreadfully afraid that if he disappoints me in this I just might.
The soft brush of gentle fingers over my heated cheeks startles me, and I open my misty eyes to see Vincent kneeling at my feet, a look of wonder on his handsome face.
“You cannot begin to understand how truly happy you’ve made me, dove,” he whispers brokenly, stroking at the tear tracks making their way down my cheeks.
“Really? You aren’t mad? I didn’t do it on purpose,” I whisper, leaning into his touch, wanting him to believe that I’m not some psycho out to trap him.
He’s shaking his head even before I finish, and I see a small smile curl his austere mouth.
“I doubt you did, unless I was asleep when you got this way. I was there too, and I knew exactly what I was doing. If you want to blame anyone, dove, blame me for losing control and taking you without thought to protection.”
The thought of having my way with a man like him while he’s asleep and defenseless makes me giggle. Vincent would never sleep through sex, ever, and just the idea of something so preposterous makes me laugh, dispelling the nervous tension that grips me.
“That’s better,” he drawls, leaning in for a soft, comforting glance of the lips. “Come on, we need to swing by Parker’s place and grab your things. Thank God I’ve already put in my bid, so that old biddy Mrs Cavanaugh won’t be too put out if we leave early,” he says, pulling me to my feet and into his side.
“What? Vincent, we haven’t discussed any of this,” I stutter, feeling my world shrink in on itself.
“What’s to discuss? You’re having my baby. We’ll be married by the end of the week, and, as husband and wife, we’ll live together.”
He’s looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind, and I think I may have when the shock and fear of confinement suddenly hit me. I love him, love the baby with every breath I take, but I can’t stand the idea that once I’m in his clutches I’ll lose every bit of freedom I’ve managed to gain over the last six years.
“But…”
There are a million things I want to say at the moment, so many of them involving this knot eating at my gut when I realize that neither Vincent nor I have said anything about love.
“Dove,” he sighs, pulling me close to rest his mouth on my forehead. “Please don’t pull away, not now, when we’ve shared so much. This is a good thing. I told you, we belong together.”
I can’t remember him ever saying anything so romantic or sweet, and I say so, watching his face color.
“I believe you were only half conscious and still coming at the time,” he drawls, making me blush scarlet.