Secret Son, Convenient Wife(18)

“They already know all they need to know. I’ve said he’s my son, and they can see he is. I don’t need to show them proof. My word is good enough.”

It must be wonderful to have a family who believes in you, in what you say and do. She was quite envious of Tate for that.

And now Nathan would be part of such a family, she reminded herself. Now more than any other time today, she felt she’d done the right thing in marrying Tate. She may not love Tate madly like she’d once thought she did, but it took a special man to offer marriage for the sake of a child not proven to be his. Tate had even begun to love a son without proof that he was the father. For that alone, a small pocket of her heart would always belong to Tate Chandler.





Four




Gemma wasn’t surprised that she woke early the next morning. Nathan had slept through the night, and she’d fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She’d probably even snored, so it was just as well that Tate hadn’t shared her bed.

Her heart cramped at the thought, as she looked up at a high ceiling as untouchable as her new husband.

She understood that he didn’t want to share her bed, but it still hurt. It filled her with despair to know she had to live with a man who wouldn’t let himself want her, now nor in the future. She had done nothing wrong!

It wasn’t fair.

But did she really want someone who couldn’t trust her? To be truthful, deep down she did still want Tate. She wasn’t in love with him. It was all purely physical. But knowing that didn’t change a thing.#p#分页标题#e#

Thank God physical attraction was something she could teach herself to ignore.

Starting right now.

She threw back the covers, glad to escape her thoughts, and sneaked a peek at Nathan, who was still sleeping. She showered and dressed, and by the time she was ready, Nathan was awake and hungry. She quickly clothed him, then took him downstairs in search of food.

In the kitchen, Tate was eating a bowl of cereal at the island. Her pulse raced, but she tried to ignore it. She’d seen him each morning for the past ten mornings, though his focus had been on Nathan or the wedding or business.

Today, his hooded eyes told her he had heard her coming.

“Good morning.” His gaze moved to his son and lit up, filling with a warmth that had once been for her. “How is he this morning?”

“Hungry.” She couldn’t be jealous of her son, but Tate’s reaction was another reminder that things had changed a great deal between them.

“He’s a growing boy, aren’t you, sport?” Tate smiled at his son with an indisputable look of fatherly love.

She wrenched her gaze away. This all could have been so different…should have been so different.

“Peggy not around this morning?” she managed to say as she carried Nathan into the pantry, where Peggy had put the baby food. More often than not, Gemma fed her son fresh food, but the jars came in handy sometimes.

“Clive was going to drive their daughter back to the city, so I told Peggy to go with him and take the day off.” He raised his voice to reach her. “They’ll return this evening. I assured her we could look after ourselves.”

“I’m sure we can.” Gemma was suddenly relieved he couldn’t see her face. This would be the first time she and Tate would be alone—except for Nathan—in the house together since they’d run into each other at the hospital. And they were supposed to be on their “honeymoon,” making the situation seem intimate.

Tate looked up as she exited the pantry with the food. He put down his spoon. “Here, give Nathan to me while you heat that up.”

“No, that’s okay. You finish your breakfast. I’ll put him in his high chair.”

Tate pushed his bowl aside and came toward them. “I’d really like to hold my son, Gemma.”

He met her gaze, boldly showing her his fatherly side. It gave her an odd feeling, sort of squishy inside. She handed Nathan over without a word and went to heat up some milk to go with the oatmeal. At least Tate didn’t hold back on emotion where their son was concerned.

“Do you want to feed him?” she asked.

Tate looked up in surprise. “Sure.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

It was silly to warm to him just because he wanted to feed his son, but she did anyway. “Okay, put him in the highchair first.” She waited while he fastened the safety belt, then passed Tate the bowl and spoon. “Now just spoon it into his mouth. You’ve seen me do it. It’s easy.”

Tate scooped up the mushy food, then hesitated. Gemma had to smile. It was amazing that this successful businessman, with confidence seeping from every pore, actually looked nervous.