The Heiress's Pregnancy Surprise

by Donna Alward

  She appreciated his honesty. And was glad to know he had feelings about it. She certainly had gone back and forth for a while. It had been hard telling the family, too. Charlotte was often the perfect by-the-book child. She was the one who didn’t make ripples or waves. A baby in the family was a big ripple.

  And this was the first grandchild. A grandchild her father would never meet. She felt the pain of that every day.

  “Charlotte, what do you want from me? Why are you here?”

  It was so hard sitting across from him. All she could think about was their time together and how safe and secure she’d felt. How she’d relaxed when relax wasn’t really something she ever did. “I told you. I thought this was the kind of news to deliver in person.”

  “Fair.” He leaned ahead, resting his elbows on his knees. “But you must have some idea about what you think this should look like.” He motioned with his finger, going back and forth between them. “You always have a plan, Charlie. So what’s the plan?”

  They’d known each other for nine days and he already knew that about her. “I’ll raise the baby on my own. I can have a career and a child. I’ll have lots of help and I have it so much better than most women. Financial security is not an issue for me. I’m very lucky, really.”

  Then she smiled, and meant it. She knew how fortunate she was. “My sister, Arabella, is already making sounds about being an auntie and Maman is making plans for a nursery at the chateau. I have lots of support.”

  He leaned back. “Then what you’re saying is you don’t need me.”

  She hadn’t meant it that way, and knew she had to tread carefully now. “Jacob, you need to take time to think about this. I would never deny you access to see your child. That’s not right. But if you don’t want to be a part of this, I want to know before the baby is born. The last thing I want is for my child to have a father who passes in and out of their life, setting up expectations and delivering disappointments. If you don’t want this, it’s okay. But if you do want to be a part, we need to talk down the road about what that will look like.”

  His gray eyes flared and she knew she’d hit a nerve. His eyes were the same flinty color as when he’d been angry with her in New York. It was okay, though. She hadn’t expected this to be an easy conversation.

  “You expect me to just walk away and pretend my child doesn’t exist?” He let out a huff. “I know we were only together a short time, but I thought you knew me better than that. I have a duty and I don’t intend to shirk it.”

  Her heart stumbled. She didn’t want his parenthood to be a “duty.” “Please, don’t do this out of some sense of obligation. I’d rather you not be involved at all than consider visitation some sort of obligation to check off on the calendar.”

  He got up from the chair and began to pace. She’d upset him again, but these were things that needed to be said. He ran his hand through his hair—he needed a cut, she noticed, and the urge to sink her fingers into the soft strands was overwhelming. They were talking parenting logistics here, so why was she thinking about touching him? Not helpful at all.

  Jacob finally faced her. “I think you and I have differing definitions of duty,” he said. “It’s not the same as an obligation, which to me has a very different connotation. Duty...that is something I choose. I do it consciously, fully recognizing the implications of it. I joined the military of my own free will, and then I had a duty...to my country, to my unit, to my team. It came with risks and rewards, but it was something I chose to bind myself to. When I left the Forces and started this business, I chose duty again. Duty to my clients, of course, but duty to my team to make sure they have the best information and resources possible.

  “This baby didn’t ask to be conceived. And I could walk away, I suppose. But that’s not the type of man I am. And so my duty doesn’t come from an obligation but from a place deep inside me. A willing place, a place where I choose to do what’s right. That sort of duty isn’t a burden. It’s an honor.”

  She blinked back tears. He was such a good man. But he didn’t love her. And she wasn’t sure she loved him... How could she after such a brief fling?

  Besides, nothing had changed. He still ran his company from here and she lived and worked in Paris. He certainly prospered but did so without the intrusive celebrity that came with being a Pemberton. He’d made it into a magazine but he’d never been hit with the tabloids. Being part of the Pemberton family was a whole other level of everything. While many yearned to be a part of that world, it wasn’t Jacob’s style. He’d be miserable, wouldn’t he?

  “Okay,” she whispered, still emotional after his speech. “Okay, then, we’ll figure it out. You’ll be a part of our baby’s life.” And a part of hers, she realized. She’d be tied to him forever. It sent a pain rippling through her chest. Tied to him without having him. Maybe it would get easier with time.

  He sat beside her on the sofa. “Do you need anything? It must sound ridiculous, I suppose. If you needed something, you could just buy it.”

  “What I needed was to tell you, to see where your head’s at.” She wet her lips, which were suddenly dry. “You didn’t disappoint me. You never have.”

  “I try,” he replied, and nudged her shoulder with his own.

  She laughed a little, and the sound trailed away, a bit wistfully, she realized.

  “Are you scared?” he asked.

  The question came as such a relief that she bobbed her head up and down quickly. “Oh, thank God you asked that. No one has. I’m terrified.”

  “Come here.” He lifted his arm and made room for her to curl in next to his shoulder. She knew she shouldn’t but couldn’t resist. He was so solid and warm, reassuring. She closed her eyes as his arm circled around her and kept her close.

  “It had to be a shock. Hell, I’m still shocked. We shouldn’t have been so careless.”

  Charlotte didn’t know what to say. To admit that the fire between them had burned too hot to stop would add an element of something to this evening she wasn’t ready to discuss. “Well, it’s done. We’re going to be parents. I figure we’ll just do a lot of learning as we go.” She craned her neck to look up at him. “If we can act as if we’re on the same team, I think it’ll be okay.”

  “Act? We are on the same team. We want the same things, right? Listen, I lost my mom young and it was just me and my dad. We did okay, but I want more for my kid. I’ll be there for them whenever I can.”

  “And your dad now? Are you two still close?”

  He nodded. “I don’t see him as much as I’d like, but yeah, we’re close. We get together for some drinks and darts at the pub ’round the corner from where I grew up. He’s still with the Met, but on a desk now.”

  “I’m glad. That you still have each other.”

  “Me, too.”

  “So our baby will have a grandfather after all,” she said, the thought warming her.

  “And a doting one, I wager.” Her stomach chose that moment to rumble. He chuckled and looked down at her. “Hungry?”

  “I lied at the pub. I didn’t eat.”

  “Hmm. Let me fix something.”

  “You don’t have to. I can go back to the hotel and order room service—”

  “And it won’t arrive until nearly ten o’clock. I can cook, remember? What are your no-go foods?”

  She laughed. “Coffee, tomatoes, runny eggs.” She shuddered. “For some reason, I cannot do yolks right now.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. You relax and I won’t be long.”

  He shifted out from under her and headed for the kitchen, while she leaned back against the sofa cushions and marveled at the life events that had brought her to this moment, in his house. She looked around, taking in the fine draperies, the huge rug in the middle of the floor, the expensive lamps. It reminded her a little of the room at Chatsworth Manor that the family used fo
r their casual use, rather than the more formal drawing room. She got up from the sofa and made her way to the kitchen, where Jacob had his head stuck in the stainless steel fridge.

  “Do you mind if I give myself a tour?”

  “Not at all.” He straightened and smiled. “This floor has the kitchen, dining room, small bath and a study. Upstairs are the bedrooms and other bathrooms.” His gaze touched hers. “I did mean it about you staying if you want. I do have room.”

  But not in his room. And she wasn’t sure she could stand being down the hall from him again, imagining him in bed, his chest bare, his long legs with one sticking outside the covers.

  She didn’t respond, but instead backed away and went to explore.

  The half bath was lovely, with a small marble counter and gold taps. She’d noticed the kitchen had a nook for eating, and the dining room was rather splendid, with a table that seated eight and a sideboard that she was absolutely envious of. But it was the study that drew her in and made her catch her breath. So much dark wood, from the woodwork to the gleaming floors to the massive bookshelves that covered the walls. And the shelves were full of books. New ones, old ones, spines faded and worn. There was a magnificent rolltop desk and chair, and a fireplace with comfortable chairs around it. For a moment she imagined sitting in one of these chairs, a fire blazing, reading a bedtime story to their child.

  But that wouldn’t happen, would it? If anyone read bedtime stories here, it would be Jacob. There would be times their child would visit here, without her, spending time with Jacob, while she would be home, missing both of them.

  She wrapped an arm around herself, suddenly lonely.

  The upstairs was equally gorgeous. Each bedroom had its own four-poster bed, with rich linens and matching window coverings. The bathrooms were stunning, with huge soaker tubs and separate showers. Buying this place had to cost a fortune. Renovating it cost even more. Jacob wasn’t lying when he said his business provided well. Yet you would never know he was wealthy in his own right. There were no airs put on. He was just an ordinary guy.

  There was something refreshing about that.

  When she arrived back downstairs, she found him in the kitchen, putting sandwiches on plates. “Nothing fancy,” he said, smiling. “Cheese toasties.”

  “That’s perfect.” There was something so comforting about a simple cheese sandwich. He’d poured her a glass of water, too, and put everything at the small table in the kitchen’s eating nook.

  “If you like we can move this to the dining room.”

  She caught his eye and saw he was teasing. “This is fine.” She took a bite and tasted butter and cheese and sighed in appreciation. “This is just what I needed. Thank you, Jacob.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They munched for a few minutes in silence, until the quiet became uncomfortable. “So... How’s business been since you’ve been back?”

  Jacob wiped his hands on a napkin. “Good. I’ve been in the office the whole time, though. I was just thinking today I might like to take another assignment. I can only stand being behind a desk for so long.”

  She nodded, but the bite of sandwich seemed stuck in her mouth. Another assignment. He did have wandering feet, didn’t he?

  “I didn’t realize you did assignments anymore. I thought mine was to cover for someone who’d been sick.”

  “It was. I wasn’t scheduled to take your job because I was supposed to be on vacation. But I do put myself on the rotation. It keeps me sharp.”

  And in danger, she thought. Guarding her hadn’t been that dangerous. It had been an employee with a gripe, who’d wanted to hit back at Aurora Inc. but not harm her physically. That wasn’t always the case, though, was it? I mean, who hired bodyguards if there wasn’t a threat?

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, and she shook her head and reached for her sandwich again.

  “Nothing. I guess I just never thought of you being, what do you call it, in the field? On a regular basis.”

  He finished his sandwich and rose, taking his plate to the dishwasher. “I’m thirty-seven, Charlie. Not ready to be shut up in an office all day yet. Not sure if I ever will.”

  “Does anyone ever get hurt on the job?”

  He shut the dishwasher door and turned to face her. “Our job is to keep people safe. Including us.”

  “But still, the potential is there.”

  “Well, I could step outside tomorrow and get hit by a bus.”

  She’d heard that kind of logic before, but it didn’t make sense. That was an accident. That wasn’t deliberately putting oneself in harm’s way. He was going to be her baby’s father. What if something happened to him? She’d had her father until her midtwenties, and even then, losing him had been horrible. But she couldn’t imagine growing up without his presence. With that gaping hole in her life at such a crucial time. She’d lost her father. The idea of losing the father to her child was devastating—whether or not they were together.

  It was turning out that the very thing that had brought them together—his vocation—was the thing that scared her most about their future as co-parents.

  She pushed away the rest of the sandwich. Not just co-parents, not that she’d say that out loud to him. She cared for him so much. Still remembered how it felt to be held in his arms in the dark. The way he kissed her as if she was the most cherished thing in the world. She couldn’t bear thinking of a world without him in it.

  He came back to the table and pulled out a chair, then sat close to her. “Look,” he said softly, putting his hand on her leg. “I’m always careful. I’m going to be around for a long time. Trust me.”

  But trust wasn’t something that came easy to her. Not after years of either being left or being used. And it was impossible to trust something that was largely out of his control.

  Nothing had changed—their lives were too different. She had to find a way to resolve her feelings, didn’t she? Let go of any romantic notions and, like she said earlier, be a team.

  “I’m tired. I think I should head back to my hotel.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay here? I’ve got lots of room.”

  Staying under the same roof tonight wouldn’t be good. She’d get ideas and feelings and she wasn’t sure how good her willpower was where he was involved. “I think the hotel is best. But I’m glad we talked.”

  “Me, too. I still need to wrap my head around the news, but I’d like to meet again before you return to Paris.”

  “I’d planned to stay a few more days and then weekend at the manor house.” The thought of floating around the huge house for three days made her lonesome. “Why don’t you come with me? There’s tons of privacy there. It’ll give you a few days to think about things and then maybe we can make some sort of plan.”

  The more she thought about it, the more the idea had merit. It was unrealistic to think that they’d come up with any sort of resolution in a few hours, when he’d barely had time to absorb the news. She’d had a few weeks now to get her footing.

  “Chatsworth Manor, you mean.”

  “I do. It’s beautiful right now, with everything newly green and blooming. Do you ride? We could go ’round the grounds—”

  “One, no I don’t ride. And two, are you sure you should, being pregnant?”

  She refused to let him bring down her mood. She needed...to go home. That was the manor house to her. The place she’d done most of her growing up, where most of her memories were. The chateau was for holidays and summer, but the manor... That was where she felt most safe and secure, things she needed in her life right now.

  “Walks in the garden, then. I think we need this, Jacob. To sort through it all.”

  He paused, watching her for a long time. She wished she was better at reading his mind, but expected shuttering away was a talent he’d perfected years ago. Finally he agreed. �
��All right. I’ll go. Let me know where to pick you up and we can drive down together.”

  “I’ll text you everything.” She got up from the table and went to him. “I’m sorry, you know. This isn’t what either of us planned. But we’ll deal with it okay, right?”

  “Of course we will.”

  She called a taxi and then he walked her downstairs and outside, into the cool spring night. In less than a minute, the black cab rolled up to the curb.

  “You’ll text?”

  She nodded, suddenly not wanting to say goodbye, knowing she had to. She kept thinking about how he said he stayed on rotation with the company, to keep “sharp.” And while she cared about him, he hadn’t made any move to kiss her or remotely suggest that there be a romantic element to this situation. In that, nothing had changed. He didn’t want a relationship, and his work, filled with travel and what he’d call “calculated risk,” wasn’t exactly conducive to hands-on parenting, was it?

  “I’ll be in touch. Take some time to think and we’ll see if we can come up with an arrangement on the weekend.”

  “Take care,” he said softly, and opened the door to the cab.

  She slid inside and he closed the door. Once she gave the address to the driver, she sat back against the seat and fought tears.

  Nothing seemed right. Nothing at all.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  JACOB STARED UP at the manor house and wondered what the heck he’d got himself into.

  He grabbed his duffel from the back of the Land Rover and also Charlotte’s bag. She was hopping out of the passenger side of the vehicle and he swallowed thickly. He’d sat beside her for the better part of two hours as they made their way through London and then down to the estate, going through the picturesque village of Bramley on their way. It had been its own special sort of torture. His gaze kept sliding to his left, to her still-flat stomach. His baby was in there. A human being they’d created together. He’d made a career of dealing with difficult situations, but this one nearly bowled him over.