Secret Son, Convenient Wife(9)

“I could have put a pin in one of the condoms,” she quipped, wanting to rock him.

His eyes lasered on to her. “Did you?”

She blinked. “Of course not. Anyway, why would I?”

“Seems clear to me.” He looked around the room. “You had a lot to gain.”

She was offended by the suggestion. “I don’t believe I’ve asked anything of you. In fact, I don’t want anything from you. Not a damn thing.”

He regarded her, his expression one of mockery. “You know, I look at you and wonder how I could have been such a fool.” His gaze slid down, then up. “Of course, you do have a great body, and you can certainly charm a man right out of his pants.” He paused just enough to be insulting. “But you know that already, don’t you? You don’t need me to remind you how quickly I took you to my bed…and how quickly you let me.”

All at once she knew she was fighting for something more than her son. She wasn’t sure what. Perhaps the right to be judged fairly and honestly.

“Tate, no matter what has happened between us in the past, I don’t—and can’t—regret having Nathan.” She angled her chin in defiance. “So do your worst…but do it to me.”

A dash of admiration entered the depths of his eyes, but a sudden knock at the sitting room door stole it away.

Tate opened the door.

The housekeeper stood there. “Mr. Chandler, there’s a phone call for you. It’s your father. He says it’s urgent.”

Tate seemed to stiffen. He turned to Gemma and nodded, before stepping out in the corridor and closing the door behind him. She sagged against the sofa, glad he’d gone. She needed the breathing space…needed not to think. Lord, it had been such a long day.

Tate was back too soon.

This time he didn’t bother to knock.

And this time his face seemed to be carved from stone.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“The hospital announced a few weeks ago that my family’s going to be the recipient of a humanitarian award. It’s for our support of the hospital, especially the children’s wing, over the years.”

“That’s very nice.” She didn’t have it in her to be enthusiastic right now. She had too much on her mind.

He didn’t look happy. “One of the newspapers just called my father. They wanted to know how he feels about being a grandfather.” He paused. “They know about Nathan.”

“Wh-what?”

“Dammit, Gemma, they wanted to know why I turned my back on my son.”

“No!”

“What else would you think they’d make of it?” He shot her a suddenly suspicious look. “Did you tell that nurse anything about us before you left the hospital? It seems strange that a photographer waited for us long after the ceremony ended.”

She gasped. “I didn’t! Why would I?”

“You knew I wouldn’t walk away from my son. Perhaps you thought you could get the public on your side, so they’d think I’m a rotten father. That way, if you tell them what a terrible person I am, you might win any future custody battle.”

“No!” She was appalled he’d think she’d do something like that. She’d never do it to Nathan. One day he’d grow up, and she wanted him to respect his father, despite how she felt about Tate personally. “My son is not a commodity to be used like that.”#p#分页标题#e#

He held her gaze. “I’m glad to hear you say that about our son.” His brow knitted together. “It must have been someone from the hospital.”

He believed her? She wanted to cry with relief.

She forced herself to think. “I can’t see it being Deirdre. She was too professional. And the doctor didn’t seem to recognize you.” She tried to remember everything from the moment she’d run into Tate. “There were plenty of other people in the recovery room. Any one of them could have put two and two together.” With the crib being away from the others, Gemma suspected she and Tate had been out of hearing range. “Our body language would have been enough to show something was up.”

“True.” He expelled a breath. “Dammit, if one newspaper knows, you can bet the rest will, too. It’ll crush my grandmother if the hospital decides not to give the award. She and my grandfather worked hard to support them and my parents carried on the tradition.”

“Would they really do that? Take it away from your family, that is.”

He arched a cynical brow. “My family receives a humanitarian award, yet it looks like we can’t even be responsible for a child of ours? What do you think?”