Ultimatum: Marriage / For the Sake of the Secret Child. Yvonne Lindsay

that small detail such a comfort?

      She hated that his doing so registered on such a profound level with her. She was so eager for happiness she grabbed anything positive.

      Once he was behind the huge wheel, the woodsy scent of pine, cypress and smoke enveloped her. Strangely, despite the heat, it didn’t make her feel the slightest bit sick as some scents did. In fact, he smelled so good, she couldn’t resist glancing at him out of the corners of her eyes.

      He was so tall and broad shouldered. A lock of dark hair fell across his brow. Why did he have to be so attractive even when he wasn’t trying, like now? When he wanted no involvement with her? Dark stubble shadowed his hard jaw and chin and made him look incredibly masculine. He hadn’t had time to shower or shave or even to change out of his jeans before their appointment. Shadows ringed his eyes.

      He’d obviously been in such a hurry to pick her up and rush her to the doctor’s office, he hadn’t bothered about himself at all.

      “You look tired,” she said, feeling too much unwanted sympathy for him. Yet, even exhausted, he was so virile and utterly male that some feminine, idiotic part of her wanted to swoon over him, despite knowing he probably considered her his enemy.

      “Couldn’t sleep,” he muttered as he leaned forward and started the SUV. He turned on the AC. “Lumpy, stinky mattress. Hot night, too. Couldn’t stop thinking about stuff.” He shot her an accusing glance and she wondered if concern for her had kept him from sleeping.

      He adjusted the air-conditioning. “Is the air okay?”

      She nodded.

      “What about you? I mean besides the morning sickness.” He turned away and pretended to watch the traffic. “You okay? You don’t look so perky yourself.”

      “Couldn’t sleep either.” Not that she was about to admit to him that she’d tossed and turned because she’d been longing for him all night—because his nearness made her feel safe and secure in ways she’d never known in her whole life. Which was ridiculous, considering the situation.

      When his dark head swiveled in her direction, she shyly turned. Under his scowling gaze, her lungs froze.

      Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Why did being so close to him in his big vehicle make her so nervous? Why didn’t he just drive them home so they weren’t trapped in such a small space together with emotions they couldn’t deal with? At least on the way she’d have scenery to distract her from him. Now she felt as overwhelmed by him as she had that first night.

      “I … I still can’t believe this has happened,” she said in a low quiet tone.

      “I felt like that at first, I mean when Dr. Preston confirmed your fears, but the reality is sinking in pretty fast. You and I are going to have a baby—whether we want it or not. The question is what are going to do to resolve this situation?”

      “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

      “Oh, I bet you have.” His deep voice darkened. “You came running to me first thing in need of money, didn’t you?”

      “No! That’s not it. I—I don’t want my baby to be illegitimate, that’s all.”

      His dark head jerked toward hers, his blue eyes piercing her. “That’s all? Surely you’re not talking about—marriage?”

      She bit her lips and swallowed.

      “About you and me … being together … in some sort of permanent arrangement. It’s not like this is a hundred years ago and your father’s going to follow me down the aisle with a shotgun between my shoulder blades,” he said. “Hard to do that under house arrest.”

      Could she help it if she saw things so simplistically? Every time a teacher at school had asked her to draw a picture of her family, she’d always drawn a mommy and a daddy and herself in the middle.

      “You don’t actually see us as a couple, do you?” he said.

      She shook her head because he so obviously wanted her to. “Look,” she said, “I guess I just panicked and thought when I felt so sick that I couldn’t do this alone. Maybe I would have been stronger before … but now … I have no money. No allies. No family really … other than Daddy, who’s been indicted.”

      “And you’re so used to money, you don’t know how to get by without it.”

      “My life hasn’t been what you think. I don’t believe I have any friends left in Louisiana. Everybody here blames me for what they think Daddy did.”

      “Because of what he did! And what you helped him do in all probability. Whose fault is that?”

      “Right. You think I schemed to steal millions of dollars from Houses for Hurricane Victims and his bank? And that I deliberately set out to destroy your good name?”

      “Well, your father damn sure did, that’s for sure.”

      “I think my father’s innocent.”

      “Then where’s the money he managed? Why can’t we find any records to prove he ever invested a single dollar? Maybe you don’t know how the charity world operates, so I’ll fill you in on a little secret. At the first hint of scandal, all future funding dries up. So now poor families, who were counting on me to build them homes, won’t get them. Because of my close association to the charity, funding for my architectural projects is drying up as well. It would be financial suicide for me to associate myself with you right now. And now you want me to marry you?”

      “The government has been investigating him for the past six weeks, and so far they’ve found nothing to link me to any of it. Doesn’t that tell you anything about me? I never volunteered for that organization. I never worked at Daddy’s bank or the shipyard either.”

      “Maybe you’re good at covering your tracks.”

      “Or maybe I’m innocent. I was an editor and a writer.”

      “I wasn’t born yesterday. You got that job because of your father’s connections.”

      “Maybe.”

      “Maybe you’re a taker like your father. Maybe you came to me yesterday hoping I’d help you financially.”

      “Is everything really just money to you?”

      He leaned toward her. “How dare you ask me that?”

      “Then what about our child? I want our baby to have his or her father’s name … and his love, if that’s possible. Your love. That’s very important to me. Do you want to play a role in his or her life, or not?”

      He was silent.

      “Because if you don’t, one of my oldest and dearest friends lives in London. Her name’s Carol Lawton, and when she heard about my problems, she offered me a job in a publishing firm over there. It would mean leaving Louisiana …”

      “No!”

      “You wouldn’t have to stay married to me for very long to give him his name. You could even tell people why you had to marry me.”

      “No. I couldn’t do that.” He hesitated, his gaze sweeping her. “So, what kind of theoretical marriage do you imagine we could possibly have? Hell, the only plus we have going for us is that we’re great together in bed.”

      “No sex,” she asserted in a low, breathy rush.

      “What? You expect me to tie myself to you without even that as a fringe benefit?” He stared through her. “What about you? After the way you kissed me yesterday, are you sure that’s what you want?”

      “Who are you kidding? You ran off to the swamp yesterday because you couldn’t take the heat from that kiss. Our marriage should be about the baby—not us. I, for one—definitely—don’t think we should complicate our confusing situation with more sex.”

      “Definitely?”