Secret Son, Convenient Wife(13)

She was the outsider.

And she’d probably never be a true part of this family. Add that to her own parents cutting her off and she suddenly felt like everyone in the world had deserted her.

Everyone but her son, she reminded herself.

Nathan loved her.

Nathan needed her like no one else.

How she wished it could be different with her own family. For her son’s sake, she’d even phoned her parents to invite them to the wedding, hoping they might be pleased. After getting no answer, she’d phoned her father’s work to learn they had gone on a Mediterranean cruise. She had to admit now that she was glad they weren’t able to come. Her life was one big pretense, and she wasn’t sure she could keep up the facade of happiness with them here. They’d hurt her too much.

At least Tate would be a far better parent to Nathan than her own parents had been to her, she thought, pushing aside her momentary self-pity as Nathan started to cry. Her poor little darling was overwhelmed and overtired. The doctor had said there were no complications from the operation, but Nathan could still be feeling the aftereffects.

She excused herself and went to him. “Ssh, Mommy’s here, sweetie.” She lifted Nathan out of Tate’s arms, looking at the others. “It’s his nap time. I’ll take him upstairs.” She was about to turn away when Tate’s driver appeared at their side.

“Mr. Chandler, the reporters are here. They want to know when you and Gem—I mean, Mrs. Tate—will come out to see them.”

Gemma groaned inwardly. She knew this was part of the deal, but not right now.

“Tell them they’ll be there shortly, Clive,” Jonathan Chandler said before Tate could speak. Then her father-in-law went to take Nathan from her. “We’ll get one of the staff to take this boy upstairs while you and Tate do what you have to do.”

Gemma instantly moved her son out of reach. “I’m sorry, Jonathan, but I intend to put Nathan to bed myself.” She couldn’t call him Mr. Chandler. She wouldn’t. She doubted he’d ask her to call him “Dad.”

“But the reporters—”

“Can wait,” Gemma said quietly but firmly. Nathan needed her more than anyone else. And Lord knows, she needed the break.

“Gemma’s right, Dad,” Tate said, surprising her. “Nathan’s needs are more important. The reporters can wait. They won’t go away anytime soon.” He gave a slight smile. “Unfortunately.”

Jonathan looked from Tate to her and back again, then gave a sharp nod. “Okay, son.”

Gemma had to bite her tongue. When she took a stand, she was ignored. When Tate took a stand, they listened. She hoped it wasn’t going to stay this way her whole life.#p#分页标题#e#

Tate squared his shoulders. “I’ll go talk to them, while Gemma goes upstairs.” His gaze shifted to her. “Come down when you’re ready.”

Gemma was grateful to escape, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to face them all. If only the day could be over.

Upstairs she gave Nathan a bottle and then changed his diaper in the small bedroom connected to hers.

“There we go, sweetie,” she said, putting him in the crib. His eyes were closing as soon as his little head hit the pillow, and she smiled to see him sucking furiously on the bottle. For a few minutes she watched over him with all the love in her heart.

It wasn’t until she went to leave the room that she realized she had a dilemma. Tate had bought the latest in digital baby monitors so she could hear Nathan no matter what room she was in, but she wasn’t about to leave her son alone in here when a bunch of strangers were crawling all over the house.

Absolutely no way.

She looked out in the corridor, hoping to see someone who could pass a message to Tate, but there was no one. She even used the intercom for the kitchen, but no one answered. They were probably all too busy, maybe not even able to hear it. There was nothing to do but sit and wait it out. Tate would eventually come looking for her, she was sure. He had to. He needed her for the photographs.

About fifteen minutes later, someone knocked on her door and she hurried to open it. Tate stood there, his eyes showing his anger. “Is this some sort of protest?”

She angled her chin at his tone. “I guess it is.”

“Not now, Gemma. We’ve got—”

“I’m not leaving Nathan up here alone.”

He stopped and digested the info, then nodded. “I’ll get Sandy to come up and stay with him.”

Gemma had met Peggy and Clive’s twenty-one-year-old daughter, and she was happy to leave Nathan with her. “No one’s answering the intercom in the kitchen.”