A Nine-Month Temptation
Page 12
The argument had only grown more heated from there. Thankfully, Sable had been scheduled for a job off-site on a two-day shoot with an Italian magazine spotlighting new American designers, so she hadn’t been subjected to the tension in the Zayn studio.
“Roman.” Marcel stepped out into the courtyard through the back door of the vacant shop. Hands shoved in the pockets of black jeans, he stopped just outside the double doors, crossing one loafer in front of the other as he leaned against the doorframe. “The Realtor asked us to lock up when we leave. He had another appointment. I know you do, too.”
A hint of bitterness shaded Marcel’s words at the reference to the ultrasound appointment.
Leaning back in his chair, Roman observed his brother warily. He had no wish to revisit the arguments of the day before. “What do you think of the space?”
“It’s ideal. I’m sure it will get snapped up in a hurry, probably for the full asking price.” Marcel’s eye roamed over the courtyard surrounded by low brick walls. The surrounding buildings were taller with even higher fences, but that didn’t detract from the patch of open sky overhead.
“We can at least make an offer. I’ll text the Realtor to get the ball rolling.” Roman thumbed in a number on his phone and hit Send.
Marcel nodded his approval, but continued in a stern tone. “I want you to know that I’m going to offer Sable the apartment at the studio.”
Roman’s gaze flew to his brother’s. “What?”
He had to have misheard. Misunderstood. Surely Marcel wouldn’t undermine Roman’s efforts to build a relationship with his child by enticing Sable into an alternative housing situation.
“I don’t use that apartment very often, so it won’t be an inconvenience to have her there. And I can’t abide the possibility that she’d leave New York before the internship ends just because she can’t afford to stay. She’s too valuable to me and to the brand.”
Resentment burst inside Roman like a firework. “Screw the brand, Marcel. Don’t you think she’s far more valuable to me as the mother of my child?”
His brother arched an eyebrow. “If that’s the case, I would think you’d be all the more grateful for the chance to keep her in the city instead of watching her jet off a thousand miles away to raise your baby without you.”
Just the thought of that happening made him ill. Would she really consider such a drastic move simply to avoid living with him? He remembered how she’d felt in his arms three nights ago, how she’d trusted him with her body and her pleasure. Surely he hadn’t been alone in the sense that they were right together? They didn’t need to tangle up their emotions when they had a smart plan that was mutually beneficial for their future.
“Sable isn’t going to leave New York.” He’d been confident she’d see the wisdom of living together. And she was supposed to give him an answer this afternoon at the appointment. “She’s going to move in with me because she wants to do what’s best for our child.”
“What about what’s best for her?” Marcel gave him a narrow look. “She was already married to one selfish jackass who couldn’t look beyond his own needs to ensure her happiness. She doesn’t need another.”
Roman hung onto his temper with both hands, unwilling to cross swords with his brother again. “How is it selfish to offer her a real home here, with space for her and her child, and a man by her side who’s as invested in caring for the baby as she would be?”
“Wealth doesn’t solve every problem, Roman. Trust me when I tell you that it doesn’t even begin to make up for a lack of love.” The words lingered in the air between them, so thick with old hurts it became obvious that there was more on Marcel’s mind than just concern for Sable.
Was this his brother’s way of telling him that he resented Roman’s continued dealings with their grandfather? The thought rocked him, forcing him to question how he’d spent the last decade.
“Are you suggesting I should have walked away from Zayn Equity? Even when that income has financed every aspect of the fashion house?” A helicopter flew over the building, casting a brief shadow on them both.
Marcel blew out a long breath. “Forget it.”
“I damned well won’t.” Roman shot to his feet, needing answers. “If I’d known you viewed my work with the equity firm as disloyal to you for even a second, I would have never taken a role there. And if you still do, I’ll submit my resignation this afternoon.”
Marcel studied him for a moment. Then, perhaps recognizing that Roman meant every word, he shook his head. “No. I might have seen it that way a few times over the years on days Granddad has been particularly brutal in his disregard for me. But I understand your reasons, and appreciate that your work has ensured we had the capital to start Zayn Designs.”
“Yet you don’t believe I have Sable’s best interests at heart.” Roman knew without looking at his watch that he needed to leave now if he wanted to make it to the ultrasound appointment on time.
He pulled open the door to return to the storefront so they could lock up behind them.
Marcel followed him inside before he spoke again. “I think you’re too concerned with not having your heart broken again to recognize that you’re going to push away an incredible woman if you don’t get your act together.”
Marcel had it all wrong. It wasn’t concern for his heart that kept Roman from Sable, but his promise to Annette. Bottom line, that didn’t make a difference when the outcome was still that Roman kept Sable at arm’s length.
They could kiss, touch and turn each other inside out with shared passion. They could even raise a child together. But none of that changed the truth that he’d promised his heart to another.
He just hoped it didn’t push away Sable for good.
Eleven
As she lay on the exam table in the imaging room, Sable kept her eyes on the screen projecting a black-and-white image of their baby. A tech in purple scrubs rolled the transducer over Sable’s belly, sometimes increasing the pressure to enhance the picture or take a particular measurement. Ten minutes into the scan, all the signs were normal, with the tech pointing out the developmental cues she was looking for as she worked.
Sable relaxed enough to glance over at Roman on the other side of the exam table, his gaze rapt as he watched the screen. She’d sensed tension in him today when they’d met in the outer office, but he had sidestepped her questions, insisting they could talk later.
As if she wasn’t already nervous enough about telling him she was considering remaining in the Brooklyn brownstone with her friends. Certainly, he would understand. But she knew he would be disappointed because he seemed to genuinely want this baby as much as she did. His sense that this would be his only chance to be a parent was sure to give him a good relationship with the child. But it made it more difficult to distinguish his concern for his heir from his feelings for her.
As of now? She could only assume she didn’t figure into his future in any role beyond mother of his child. And the sooner they both accepted as much, the easier it would be to forge a new relationship based on shared parental concerns instead of shared passion.
To support that goal, she really needed to end their physical relationship.
“How are you doing?” Roman asked, his gaze suddenly focused on her.
Even that simple concern made her heart flutter. Especially since it was accompanied by a warm squeeze of her hand. He stroked the backs of her knuckles with his thumb, and used his free hand to smooth her hair from her forehead.
And that quickly, his touch threatened her resolve. How much easier would it be to simply let him take charge of the housing? To rely on him to help her prepare for the new arrival, and to share in the caregiving? But she knew where that kind of relationship would lead. Right back to the feelings of worthlessness she’d battled when Jack had left her.
It was one thing to rely on a man who was supp
osed to love you. But Roman had been very clear that he wouldn’t be that man.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, even though she was far from it.
Even though she could already tell how deeply she would miss his touch. Their relationship had rushed forward with heated intensity, the pregnancy only adding to the bond. She ached at the thought of losing that connection, but the longer she let herself feel this way about him, the harder it would be to walk away. And she couldn’t imagine how she’d ever know or trust his real motivation for having her in his life.
“I can’t believe how much the baby is moving.” His gaze briefly flicked back to the screen before returning to her, a hint of wonder in the dark depths of his eyes. “You don’t feel that?”
She shook her head, smiling at the sight of the squirming little figure on the screen. “Not even a little. I think I read most first-time mothers don’t feel the baby move until week sixteen or later.”
“That’s going to be an incredible moment for you when you do.” He lowered his head to brush a kiss across her temple, voice dropping for her ears alone. “I hope I’m touching you when it happens.”
A pleasurable shiver stole over her, quickly followed by a genuine chill as she remembered the conversation they needed to have after the appointment. The thought made it difficult to focus on the rest of the ultrasound, although she tuned in enough to savor the news that her baby was growing normally and continued to thrive, a blessing she could still barely believe was really happening.
Twenty minutes later, after putting back on the floral pencil skirt and red puff-sleeve blouse she’d worn for what she suspected would be the last time during her pregnancy, Sable accepted the arm Roman offered her as he accompanied her down the elevator and outside.
“How should we celebrate a successful and healthy twelve weeks?” he asked as they stepped out into the late-afternoon sunshine. “Dinner? Shopping for cribs? It’s not too early to think about what you want in a nursery.”
His enthusiasm for the baby pierced her heart. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to share those milestones with Roman at her side. How different today would be if she could simply say yes. She could imagine Roman comparing car seat features with her by day, then delivering toe-curling orgasms by night. But commitment to their child—even when combined with commitment to her pleasure—wasn’t the same as love for her.
And the sooner her traitorous body got the message, the better off she’d be.
“We’re close to the park.” She pointed toward the Seventy-Second Street entrance, remembering the cherry trees she’d used as a backdrop for some photos the month before. “Do you mind if we walk around a little? I’ve been cooped up indoors all day.”
“Sure.” He agreed easily enough, but she didn’t miss the flash of wariness in his dark eyes before he escorted her across Fifth Avenue and into Central Park.
They made small talk for a few minutes, discussing what parts of the park they’d seen. Since Sable was new to New York City and Roman spent more of his time on the West Coast, they still had a lot to explore.
The Cherry Hill Fountain was in sight when she asked him about his home in Los Angeles. Even though she needed to break their romantic connection, she still wanted to know about Roman’s family and his home since their child would undoubtedly spend time there. Without her.
Sable’s heart squeezed.
“My place is in Malibu now, so I can be near the water.” He hooked his arm around her waist as they passed a group of schoolkids, all dressed in matching T-shirts, touring the park. “My grandparents lived in Anaheim when Marcel and I were growing up. Our parents had a little place in Westwood, close to the university, but we didn’t spend much time there since they traveled so much.”
“Malibu?” She didn’t know her West Coast geography very well, but she had a vision of crashing surf and beautiful sunsets. How welcome would she be there once she told Roman that she didn’t want to live together? Would he stop wooing her?
“It’s a long way from the city—in miles and in mindset. I keep an apartment downtown in case I need to be in the office on back-to-back days, but for the most part, I work from home.” He guided them toward a vacant bench near the fountain with its wide granite pool.
A group of joggers and a bicyclist swooped around the circular concourse, but other than that they were alone. A few couples and families played on Cherry Hill overlooking Bow Bridge and the Ramble. The view was so pretty and rural she could almost forget they were in uptown Manhattan.
But she couldn’t afford to forget why they were here. She’d purposely chosen a public place to explain to him why they couldn’t continue a romantic entanglement. She hoped the outdoor venue would serve as a reminder that she shouldn’t kiss and touch him anymore.
“That sounds nice,” she admitted as she took a seat on the wrought iron bench, musing on his life on the other side of the country. A life she’d never be a part of, even though her child would be.
“I hope you’ll take advantage of it once you’re ready to resume working.” He sat close to her, his arm draped over the bench behind her back, his palm a warm weight on her shoulder. “It would be ideal for your work as a celebrity stylist since you’d have a couple of home bases you could work from.”
His thoughtful concern for her future twisted in her chest, making it hard to breathe.
She needed to tell him about her new plans. Delaying would only make things more complicated. Would only put her heart at greater risk.
“That’s kind of you to suggest,” she began carefully, closing her eyes for a moment as she drew in a steadying breath. Then, she forced herself to meet his dark gaze. “But I’ve given it a lot of consideration, and I really think it’s better that we keep our households separate.”
In the aftermath of her declaration, the sounds of squealing children playing Frisbee and the rhythmic thump of a jogger’s sneakers hitting the pavement seemed out of sync. Off-kilter. Roman stared at her, his forehead wrinkled as he took in the words.
His hand on her shoulder tensed. “Meaning you don’t want to move into a shared apartment with me? Or are you still contemplating a return to Louisiana?”
Concern laced his voice. Tension. She needed to rip the Band-Aid off this painful conversation.
“My housemates offered to help me with the baby. They insist I can still live in the brownstone so I can finish my internship.” She felt a burst of pride that her friends had extended the offer. She wasn’t alone. She needed to remind herself of that as her heart ached over giving up moving in with Roman.
“And you would rather your friends care for our child when you’re not around than me? The child’s father?” He spoke with slow deliberateness that made her realize how very still he’d gone. Pain flashed in his eyes.
Empathy tugged at her, warning her this wouldn’t be easy for him to accept.
“We’ll still share custody of course—”
“Without question.” The brusque words reminded her how much he wanted this child. The protective instinct ran deep for them both.
She shifted on the bench to face him, taking another approach. “But I need people around me to support me, Roman.”
“And you think I wouldn’t do that?” He spread his arms wide, a gesture that somehow emphasized how ludicrous he found the suggestion.
“I’m sure you would try, but I need more than support, okay?” She hadn’t wanted to spell it out so baldly, afraid of how desperate it made her seem. But she knew he’d never give her what she needed most, and she was equally sure he understood that it wasn’t within his capability to give. “If I don’t have the love of my family to help me as a single parent, I at least need the love of friends.”
“Love.” His arms fell back to his sides, his shoulders drooping as if under an enormous weight.
And didn’t that spe
ak volumes about how hopeless it was for her to ever imagine him giving her that valuable commodity?
Her chest hurt. Her eyes stung. And her heart broke.
“It nearly killed me to realize that I married a man who chose me only because I checked the right boxes for the kind of life he wanted. And when I stopped checking an important box—the baby-making requirement—I was as disposable as yesterday’s news.” She’d fought back, though, and recovered a new life for herself.
She wouldn’t sacrifice that now. For herself. And to model strength for her child.
“Please don’t compare me to a man who couldn’t appreciate you for all you have to offer, Sable.” The anguish in his voice—in his eyes—was real. “I told you that you shouldn’t shortchange your dreams. I would make sure you had the resources you need to return to your work. Hell, I just told you to come to Malibu once you’re ready—”
“And I’m so grateful for that. You were the one who made me see that I couldn’t go back to Baton Rouge just because I craved the love of my family during a challenging time. You helped me see the consequences of compromising too much of myself, and I can’t thank you enough for making me see that.” She was a stronger woman for knowing him.
His hand clenched and unclenched where it rested on his knee, and his voice sounded hollow when he spoke again. “But that doesn’t mean you want to live with me. Even knowing we’ll both see our child less this way.”
Her chest ached at the thought, a heavy sorrow weighing her down that they couldn’t be the family she’d dreamed of having. But she was doing the best she could.
She spoke a last, futile hope out loud before she could think better of it. “If I thought there was any chance that love might grow between us one day—”