The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

gazes locked, and the frozen blue of his irises nearly took her breath. All of Matt’s incredible depth—the quality she’d always treasured the most—had vanished.

      “I don’t want you around those kind of people,” he said.

      “Those kind of people?” Her spine stiffened in shock. “And what kind of people would those be, Matt?”

      He had the gall to glare at her. “Alcoholics. Like your ex. People who stumble home after a night of who knows what, like Vincenzo, and throw phone parties.”

      Eyes wide, she snickered to cover her rising distress. “Would you like a stepladder to see over that double standard you just threw up? May I remind you where we met?”

      “That’s irrelevant. You’re not going to Monte Carlo.”

      Who was this man talking to her out of Matt’s mouth and watching her from his eyes, but who clearly was not Matt? It was like he’d put on another mask, but this one scared her.

      “Are we really on such opposite sides of this? How can that be?” She looked for some glimmer of the empathy they’d always had. It wasn’t there, as if the link between them had been severed. The tendril of panic exploded. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

      “We’re having a baby. A baby that will be raised in Dallas, where it will have the best care and the best opportunities.” The corner he was pushing her into grew sharp against her back. He never pushed. Why now? “Where we can have a good life and be happy. Like you said.”

      Dallas was his idea of a good life? “What, exactly, do you envision me doing in Dallas? Tea parties with your mother?”

      He shrugged. “Sure. If you want to. Or volunteer. My sister-in-law runs a women’s shelter. Maybe that would appeal to you. It’ll take a while to get back in the swing of things, even for me, but I usually get invitations to at least one or two social events a week. Charity balls and the like. When the baby comes, you can take it easy and focus on being a mother.”

      “Charity balls?” Her voice squeaked. Which would be unremarkable except it was the highest tone she’d accomplished in a very long time. “Have we actually met? Hi, I’m Evangeline La Fleur, and I live in Europe. I’d like for the father of my child to live in Europe with me.”

      “Or?”

      The challenge snaked through her.

      “Or don’t. But you’re talking about a life in Dallas that I can’t do.” If she put down roots in Dallas, what would happen to her if it didn’t work out? If he decided he didn’t want her to stay after all?

      “Can’t? Or won’t?” His tone sliced through her, and tears burned at the corners of her eyes.

      “Can’t.” She took a deep, calming breath, but it shuddered in her chest. “Matt, have you listened to me at all? I’d die in that environment. Die, as in wither up into a dried bit of nothing and blow away.”

      They both would. Why was he being so stubborn?

      “You’ll be with me. I’ll keep you entertained.” His wolfish smile unleashed a nauseous wave in her abdomen.

      “Is that all I am to you?”

      “No. Of course not.” He shook his head, sobering, and every fiber of her being wished for him to follow that with, I love you. “I want you to be my wife.”

      That’s when it all snapped into place. The sick churning in her stomach sped up.

      “You haven’t been trying to get over Amber. That’s why it’s taking so long. What you’ve been searching for isn’t a cure—you’ve been looking for a replacement. The whole time. And you found one.”

      “No one can replace Amber.” A lethal edge to his expression whipped out and knifed her in a tender place deep inside. “I would never attempt to try.”

      “Of course. My mistake.” One of many. But she couldn’t let it go, couldn’t stop from ensuring they both heard the brutal truth. “I’ve been falling in love with you. All along. Tell me that’s one-sided.”

      The harsh lines of his face softened. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to hurt you.”

      “But you’re going to anyway.”

      Her heart froze in disbelief. She’d put it out there, only to have it slapped down. It had never occurred to her that she wouldn’t be successful at healing him. That the baby wouldn’t be the answer. That her feelings wouldn’t be returned.

      But Matt was honest to a fault, and he’d never lie to her.

      He didn’t love her.

      He couldn’t, because she wasn’t Amber. She’d never be able to fill the empty place in his heart, and she’d been a fool to think that demon could ever be slayed.

      Her whole life had been shaped by rejection at the hands of people who didn’t love her because she wasn’t someone else. She wasn’t Lisa. She wasn’t Sara Lear. And she wasn’t Amber.

      “Evangeline...” He sighed, and deep lines appeared around his eyes, aging him. “I’ve never made you any promises. I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep. And I’m not ready to be in love again. Might never be.”

      Brutal. She’d had no idea how severe the truth could really be. “So you’re proposing we get married and raise a kid. But as roommates?”

      “We’ve been living together without being in love. Why does being married have to be any different? It’ll be like Venice, but permanent. If you don’t want to volunteer, then do something else, maybe related to music. Give private singing lessons.”

      “I can’t sing,” she choked out, and the final stitch holding her heart together snapped. The organ fell into two pieces somewhere in the vicinity of her womb, where the child she thought they’d love as a couple grew.

      “Piano lessons then.” He took her hand, squeezing, as if nothing was wrong. As if everything was going to work out fine. “If you taught me, you can teach anyone. It doesn’t matter to me as long as the baby is taken care of.”

      It doesn’t matter to me.

      She was nothing more than a warm oven for his offspring. Not someone to love and cherish. It was the ultimate rejection of everything she’d imagined their relationship to be.

      She yanked her hand out of his grasp.

      She’d invented a connection—one that didn’t actually exist—out of her own loneliness and fear of an empty future. In the end, Matt wanted something from her far more damaging, and far more heartbreaking, than she could have ever predicted. He wanted her to sacrifice everything that made her who she was, and in return, he vowed to never love her the way he loved Amber.

      Maybe he wasn’t capable of loving anyone other than Amber.

      Why hadn’t she realized that sooner?

      “Oh, the baby will be taken care of. My baby,” she corrected fiercely. This was one time when she’d be doing the rejecting. “I don’t actually need your help, in case that wasn’t clear. I’m not a wide-eyed sixteen-year-old, terrified and penniless. I’ve got a net worth in the eight figures. The baby will have every opportunity available under the sun. You go back to Dallas and attend some stuck-up snobby rich people’s charity event. I’ll be in Monte Carlo living the life that makes sense for me. You can have a relationship with your child through the internet.”

      She fled up the stairs, tears streaming, and locked herself in the bedroom to finish packing.

       Twelve

      “Evangeline.” Matthew banged on the door again, barely resisting the urge to kick it in. “Open the door. We’re