The Billionaire’s Secret Wife(13)
There had been dark half-circles under the layers of careful eye makeup. And her face had seemed paler than usual, her cheekbones more prominent. Probably working herself to death.
She’d been unusually tense as she’d spoken with London, and if it had been any other woman he might have considered it jealousy. But Vanessa Pryce never felt jealousy over a man. The only thing she cared about was her career, “making partner.” It’d become an obsession during her law school years, although he didn’t understand why. It wasn’t like she needed the money. If she wanted to be a law firm partner, she could’ve just created her own. That would be the easiest way, given her background and financial situation. It didn’t have to be at her current law firm.
“Justin, are you all right?” London asked.
He blinked and looked down at the petite heiress. “Sorry. Thinking about a new project.” He forced a smile. “Let’s go.”
He was going to get through week five and day two of his Vanessa detox program.
Chapter Five
The rain poured down as though somebody had slit the clouds’ fat bellies. No matter what setting she used for the wipers, Vanessa couldn’t see anything in front of her. There was no way she was going to reach O’Hare in weather like this.
She pulled over and stared outside. Shudders went through her every time a car sped by, making her rental rock. It didn’t look like the rain would let up any time soon. There wasn’t even a sliver of blue on the dark horizon. She pulled out her phone to check the weather in Chicago. Rain for the rest of the day. Great.
Maybe she should just call Mark and ask him to arrange for a pickup. Her brother would do it, and unlike Iain he wouldn’t ask annoying questions. She didn’t want to discuss why she was in Chicago with anybody. Her business was strictly with Justin.
She pressed her head against the headrest and tapped the edge of her phone. Maybe she didn’t have to tell Justin. It wasn’t like she wanted him to get involved with her life. He seemed to have moved on, and it looked like London might be the one for him, given how long they’d been dating.
And the idea of him being with London—or any woman—twisted her heart. Vanessa rubbed her forehead. When had she turned into a dog in a manger? It wasn’t like she was going to start dating him if he just ditched everyone else.
She put a hand over her belly. Even if she wanted to keep it quiet, this wasn’t something she could hide…not to mention the child would want to know about its father.
Before she lost her nerve, she typed I’m pregnant and hit send. As soon as her phone showed “sent” confirmation, she cursed. What the hell had she been thinking? This was what happened when she was tired and sleep-deprived and stressed.
She checked the settings on her phone. There had to be a way to recall that text before Justin saw it.
Nobody needed to know whose baby she carried. She could just say she didn’t know, and it wasn’t like she needed anybody’s approval. She made her own money, and she had an amazing career. She could raise the baby on her own, and it would never lack for anything, even if it didn’t have the Sterling family’s level of wealth.
Money wasn’t everything in life.
She stared at the phone. No response from Justin. Maybe he didn’t see it. Maybe he’d lost his phone or changed his number.
Or he might just laugh it off. He’d probably think she’d sent it by error or something. They’d been so careful, always using birth control. He would think it was a prank, a bad one, but prank nonetheless.
Weren’t there dozens of reason why she shouldn’t be with him anyway, even if London hadn’t been in the picture? He was too handsome, too sexy, too good in bed, too popular, too rich and too likely to influence her career. But most importantly, he was too likely to break her heart. She knew herself. If she stayed with him for too long, she’d fall for him and nothing—not even love—was enough to make relationships last.
She looked at the water streaming down her windshield. The rain would let up at some point. When it was light enough for her to drive again, she’d either make her way to the airport or check into a nearby hotel.
Whichever was safer.
* * *
Justin smiled at London. She’d been chattering about shoes for the last half-hour. She had to be an alien whose mind and logic defied human understanding. What else could explain her obsessive desire to talk about leather used to make shoes in Italy?
The lobster bisque was unexpectedly excellent and provided great distraction from the monologue. Rain ran down the windows in rivulets, and he took a brief glance at the wet pavement. Was Vanessa going to be okay driving to the airport? She was a prototypical Californian—the most inclement weather she could stand was cloudy.