Modern Romance Collection: January Books 5 - 8. Jane Porter

I will not be the man my father was.’ His mood softened and he moved toward her, the man she’d fallen in love with showing through the tough façade like an echo of a ghost. ‘I will not abandon my child because it doesn’t fit in with my life.’

      All her past pain from her childhood melted away and her heart went out to him; the pain was so clear in his voice. Whatever had happened she’d loved this man, even if he’d destroyed that with his coldness that morning two months ago. She had once loved him enough to marry him and promise to be there for him in good times and bad. Didn’t that count for something?

      Marriage for ever was something she’d dreamt of as a young girl, yearned for as a young woman, and then she’d met Max. He’d swept her off her feet, made her feel special, wanted and very much desired. He’d never told her he loved her, no matter how many times she’d said it to him, but when he’d asked her to be his wife, that hadn’t mattered. She’d had enough love for both of them.

      Only she hadn’t, she thought as she watched him press the pads of his fingers over his eyes in an uncustomary display of inadequacy. Her heart lurched as she weakened. This was her baby’s father, the man she’d fallen in love with, the man she’d married.

      ‘I understand why you are saying that,’ she said more softly now as she moved closer, physically bridging the gap if not emotionally. ‘But we shouldn’t make any decisions now. Not until you have met your brother. This is too much to deal with in one go.’

      ‘You’re right,’ he said firmly and looked up at her. ‘First I will meet my brother and then we will sort this out.’

      He made their baby sound as if it were a little mistake that could be swept to one side, but she kept her nerve, hid her pain and looked him in the eye. ‘So when are you going to meet him?’

      ‘He’s here now.’ The curtness of his reply shocked her as much as what he’d said.

      ‘Here?’

      ‘No, in London. We have a meeting planned for today.’

      ‘And he thought it would be a good idea to blast it all over the British papers on the very same day?’ Furious loyalty suddenly sprang up inside her and she couldn’t keep the spike of venom from her voice. What kind of man would do such a thing?

      ‘I’ve read it over several times and I don’t think he is responsible. He would be dragging his own name through the dirt too. He’s been accused of blackmailing a woman into an engagement. Maybe by meeting him I will discover just who is responsible for this.’ He picked up the newspaper again and glared at it.

      ‘So you are going?’ She frowned at what he’d just told her, the puzzle over who would gain from leaking such a story taking her mind from her own problems.

      ‘Yes, but first we have things to sort out.’

      ‘What things?’ She curled her fingers together; the engagement ring she’d picked out with such enthusiasm and hope for the future cut cruelly into her palm as it turned on her finger. Was that a sign they were doomed? Whatever duty and honour kept them together?

      ‘Our marriage. How we are going to make this work.’

      ‘Our marriage is over, Max.’ She didn’t dare mention that once she’d loved him so much she’d thought nothing could ever change that. If she mentioned the word love now it would push her over the edge, even if it didn’t do that to him.

      ‘Not until I return the signed papers saying I agree to the divorce and right now I have no intention of doing that.’

       CHAPTER TWO

      ‘YOU HAVE TO AGREE.’ There was a hint of panic in Lisa’s voice and Max realised how much work he would have to do. Whatever Lisa had once felt for him, it was gone. Maybe she even hated him. But what of the passion of that night two months ago? Didn’t that count for something?

      ‘You are expecting my child, Lisa. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t contest the divorce?’ The words were out before he’d had a chance to check them, to rationalise the deeper level they came from.

      The door to the bar burst open and a group of office workers entered on a rush of cold winter air, their revelry matching the season but not his mood. He glanced one last time at the newspapers, the image of the father he hadn’t seen for years and that of the brother he’d never met staring up at him. That particular problem would have to wait.

      He pulled his heavy wool coat on, his eyes meeting the question in Lisa’s green ones. ‘We can’t talk about this here.’

      ‘There is nothing else to talk about.’ The passionate retort fired hotly back at him as the group of men and woman laughed loudly at their private joke. This was not the place to have such a discussion.

      Max moved toward her, inhaling her perfume, its light floral scent taking him far from the coldness of winter in London. The determination to do what was right by his child made his words sharper than he intended. ‘That is where you are wrong, Lisa. We have a child to talk about. Our child.’

      ‘A child you don’t want.’ This time her hot words were barely above a whisper.

      He looked at her, the rising noise levels of the lunchtime crowd now arriving only increasing his anger, his frustration that she was so hell-bent on pushing him away, out of his child’s life. ‘A child I hadn’t planned on ever having, but that will not stop me from being a father.’

      Anger at the way his father had so willingly turned his back on him rushed from the past, threatening to drag him back into the pit of hell he’d lived in as a teenager. All those doubts, the questions, the hatred and the overwhelming sense of worthlessness swirled around him. In one breath it made what he had to do completely clear and in another it clouded it completely.

      ‘Let’s get out of here.’ He took Lisa’s arm, ignoring the startled look she shot at him as he propelled her toward the door.

      Outside the cold winter wind, as it whipped wildly around them, the hint of snow wrapped up in it, matched his mood. He sucked in a deep breath and, still holding Lisa’s elbow, marched across the car park toward his car. He pressed the remote and the orange lights flashed as the car unlocked.

      ‘You can’t just march me out of here and bundle me into the car like a troublesome package.’ She lifted her chin and looked at him, the wind snatching at the glorious red hair, reminding him yet again of the morning two months ago when he’d woken to find her in his bed.

      Why the hell had he given into lust then? Why hadn’t he been able to control the wayward desire and walk away before things had got heated?

      Because it was Lisa.

      ‘So you’d rather discuss our marriage, our child, against the backdrop of an office Christmas lunch?’ He let go of her arm and shoved his hand deep into his coat pocket, taking away the temptation to prevent her from leaving. If she turned and walked away, left him standing here like the young boy who’d watched his father leave, then he’d know it was all over. He’d know that there was no point.

      Lisa didn’t move. She stood proudly looking up at him, a haughtiness that was born out of the hurt he’d caused her when he’d told her their marriage was over, that he didn’t love her. ‘So where are we going?’

      ‘My apartment.’

      He saw the shadow of doubt enter her eyes, obliterating the angry spark, then her delicate brows lifted gently. ‘Your apartment? Can’t we talk here?’

      ‘In this freezing wind?’ He opened the passenger car door for her then stood back. ‘We need to sort things out, Lisa.’

      ‘Very well, but nothing is happening between us again.’

      Her insistence almost made him smile. ‘I think enough has happened already, don’t you?’

      As