She crept closer and gasped. “Is that…”
“She had the ultrasound this morning.”
Her hands carefully lifted the sonogram and she sucked in an astonished breath. “Oh, my… Is it a boy or a girl?”
“We didn’t want to find out.”
Her face pulled with a smile, her belly fluttering in awe. “I think it’s a boy.”
“So does Evelyn. I think it’s a girl.”
She looked up at him as his voice cracked and her vision blurred. Lucian never showed emotion. Even when Monique died, she hadn’t seen him cry. But now, he looked like he was holding on by a thread.
“You’re going to be a daddy,” she whispered and vulnerability flashed in his dark eyes.
His smile tightened, tension showing around his mouth. “Do you think I’ll do a better job than him?”
It needed no clarification that he was speaking of their father.
“I think you’ll do a perfect job, Lucian.”
He carefully took the sonogram and lovingly tucked it back into his suit jacket over his heart. “I don’t want him to ever question my love.”
“He won’t. Or she, if it’s a girl.”
He drew in a deep breath and chuckled. “God help me if I have a daughter. I’ll never let her out of my sight.”
She laughed. “Worried about karma?”
“Don’t joke about stuff like that.”
“I fear for any man that loves her.”
“Jesus, Isa. I can’t think about that shit yet. I’m barely able to imagine her first steps. What if something goes wrong with the pregnancy? What if Evelyn—”
She tsked and patted his cheek. “You’ll be an excellent father and Evelyn will be a wonderful mother. Nothing’s going to go wrong.”
He took a calming breath. “Thank you. I don’t like situations where I have no control.”
She laughed again. “You don’t say.”
Just then the kitchen door opened and Lucian’s expression shuttered. Her gaze shifted to Parker who was dripping wet.
“It started raining again.”
“I should go,” her brother said, his voice devoid of emotion.
She looked up at him, trying to express that he didn’t have to hide in front of Parker, but she recognized refusal in his hard eyes. Maybe in time.
“Okay.”
“I’ll call you later.”
She nodded and he left the kitchen without sparing Parker a word or glance.
When she heard the front door close she gave him an apologetic smile. “At least he didn’t threaten you?”
Parker rolled his eyes. “He wouldn’t do that here. He cares about you too much.”
Impressed that he could infer that about her brother, she smiled. She went to the drawer and pulled out a thick dishtowel.
“How is it you know that about him, but you two were never friends?”
“He knows me just as well. It’s what you do when you don’t trust someone.”
“But you trust him with Scout and you trust that he won’t upset me.”
“Because I know he loves both of you. He’s obscenely loyal to those he loves.”
“That he is.” Brushing the damp spikes of hair off his brow, she gazed into his eyes. “Do you want to put these clothes in the dryer?”
He debated for only a second then stepped back. “I think I should go.”
Caught off guard by his decision, her posture shrank.
“You can stay.” She’d hoped he would, hoped they could continue what they started out back.
His head tipped, pressing his brow to hers. “It’s not that I don’t want to stay, Isa. I do. But it’s been a pretty perfect day and it’s getting late. It’ll keep.”
“You could spend the night.” The invitation fell from her lips so easily.
He gave her a chaste kiss and stepped back. “Soon.”
Everything inside of her wanted to hold him there, but she wouldn’t beg another man to love her. She needed him to do it on his own.
He buffed the rain out of his hair and set the towel on the counter, leaving her uncertain and warring with doubt.
Once he was as dry as he would get, he turned and smiled. “I’ll call you.”
She nodded, questioning if anyone would ever want her again. “Drive safe.”
Chapter Six
“Hair, bosom, hips, bend of legs,
Negligent falling hands all diffused, mine too diffused,
Ebb stung by the flow and flow stung by the ebb,
Love-flesh swelling and deliciously …aching…”
Walt Whitman
I Sing the Body Electric
Isadora was determined to get Parker into her bed. It shocked her how much emphasis she put on getting him naked. Her desire to have him built into such potent need, she’d hardly been able to hold a non-sexual thought for days.
Everything about him turned her on. The way the stubble on his jaw always started to show early in the evenings. The way his eyes creased with laughter. The amount of focus he placed on a simple task, be it tying his shoes or reading an article. But most of all, the way he looked at her as if he were memorizing her every feature and listening to her every word. All of that gave her the confidence to push toward the next stage.
She wanted to know how a man like Parker made love, hoping that he put as much focus into the act as he did everything else. But not only did she want to experience his tenderness and affection, she also wanted to unleash the intensity she sometimes glimpsed.
Maybe her obsession with sleeping with him was some belated rite of sexual passage she’d skipped. On the verge of thirty-seven, it seemed utterly pathetic that she just now had the urge to … well, fuck like an animal.
It was the only way she could put it, though she’d never admit such a thing out loud. But silently admitting it to herself filled her with urges too intoxicating to curb.
She didn’t want it to just be sex between them, but she also wasn’t looking for manners. She was after something darker, something intense, something no one but Parker made her crave.
She wanted it hot, sweaty, raunchy, and unrefined. Pure. Animal. Lust. He’d driven her to this point of near lunacy and she was going to scream if they didn’t do it soon.
The dirty thoughts and dark fantasies were definitely a problem. So anxious to have him, she feared she might lunge at him like some sex-deprived maniac and send him running in the opposite direction, because, despite their smoldering chemistry, something always held him back.
It was if he was purposely torturing them. But why?
She was finished trying to figure out why he was so insistent on waiting. It was wonderful that he had gentlemanly traits, but enough already! She wanted him and tonight she was determined to have him.
As she dressed for their date, she fantasized how the night would play out. They’d have dinner, maybe a few drinks, kiss their way through the front door, and fall into bed. They were finally going to cross that line they’d been tiptoeing around for weeks.
Dear god, her panties were wet from just picturing Parker’s strong body over hers.
The doorbell rang and her heart tripped into a wild beat. Sliding her feet into sandals, she took the steps two at a time and practically skipped to the front door.
Smiling, she flung it open and her heart jerked hard in her chest. Stark blue eyes greeting her.
“Bella.”
“S—Sawyer,” she stuttered. “What are you doing here?”
His gaze had the power to paralyze, pulling her back to a familiar place her mind didn’t want to go.
“I wanted to see you.”
The fact that he’d come by without calling triggered a wave of worry. He’d only show up like this if something were wrong.
What if Lucian or Toni had been visiting? Had he considered that? Maybe he had and didn’t care, needed to see her so badly he decided to visit anyway.
Shaking her head, she chastised herself for feeling a slight th
rill that his need to see her might be motivation enough. It was too late for little improvements and normal behavior shouldn’t strike her as something special. He didn’t get points for doing something another man in her life did without question.
And there was that other man in her life now, so he shouldn’t be popping by unannounced like this. “This isn’t a good time. I’m leaving in a few minutes.”
“Can I come in? I just need to speak to you for a moment.”
Startled by his persistence and worried something might actually be wrong, she stepped back and let him in. “Is everything okay?”
Her mind briefly touched on her father, certain Tibet would have contacted them before Sawyer if anything were wrong. The days of Sawyer acting as her father’s go-between ended when their partnership dissolved with the buyout of Leningrad.
He paced, hands in his pockets, brow tense. “Can we sit down?”
“Okay, but I only have a few minutes.”
He nodded and she followed him into the den where, despite asking for a place to sit, he proceeded to pace. She rested on the arm of a chair and waited for him to voice whatever he’d come there to say.
“I know the last time we spoke you were upset with me.”
“I was,” she admitted. Still am.
“I’m sorry.”
Her brow raised, as she doubted he really understood how hurtful his little attempt to get her back into bed actually was. “Are you?”
“Yes. I treated you … cheaply. I don’t know what got into me, but I’m glad you walked out. I deserved that.”
“Is that supposed to be an apology?”
He paused from pacing and met her gaze. “I am sorry, Isadora.”
She nodded her acceptance of his regret. “Is that what you came to say?”
It seemed strange that this was the first time she wasn’t consumed by his absence. Actually having him in her house drove that point to the forefront of her consciousness. Did he sense she’d been getting along fine without him for once?
“Bella, I don’t know how to not worry about you.”
Her brow tightened. It was odd for him to indicate he thought of her when they were apart. Nice sentiment, but not what she needed at the moment.
“Sawyer, I’m okay.”
He stilled and gave her an assessing glance. “Are you?”
She smiled at his concern. “Yes. I was upset and hurt, but I honestly haven’t thought about it for weeks.”
“You don’t hate me?”
“Of course not. I could never hate you.” Picturing him with that woman still hurt, but she’d tried not to dwell on things outside of her control. “Maybe this time we’re both ready to move on.”
He frowned and shook his head slowly, his gaze on the floor. “I don’t know.”
Her shaky smile fell. Breath stilled in her chest as a dull throb started in her fragile heart. Brave indifference faded into something heavy that she didn’t want to hold, something dangerous, something threatening.
Sliding off the arm of the chair, she took a step back, her arms closing over her chest protectively.
“Why are you here?”
His expression softened and he approached her. “Something’s different this time.”
“Different how?”
“I miss you … more. Not just in my bed, but in my life. I know I’ve screwed this up and I don’t deserve anything from you, but… What if we tried again? It would be better this time. I’d … try my best to…” His brow creased as he struggled to get the words out. “I’ve changed, bella. I know that doesn’t erase my mistakes, but if you could forgive me we might actually get it right this time. I’m done hiding.”
She staggered back another step, certain she hadn’t heard him correctly. “What are you saying?”
He thrust a hand through his hair, an uncharacteristic show of nervousness she wasn’t used to seeing from him. “I’m saying … we could be together, a couple. Screw everyone else.”
Her eyes widened. This had to be some sort of misunderstanding. “Wha—why now?”
“Slade says the issues between him and your brother are smoothing—”
“No, Sawyer. Give me something a little more definitive than your son’s place in our personal life and my brother’s issues with him.”
“But that was a big deal. Family’s important.”
“I understand that, but most couples find a balance. They co-exist so one half doesn’t take precedence over the other.”
“Fine.” He drew in a breath and released it slowly. “You’re older now. Our age difference doesn’t seem as significant as it once did.”
“I’m thirty-seven. How is that any different from when you dumped me last year? You know what, forget it. The difference in our age was never important to me. You were the one who constantly worried about it.”
She needed something more from him. Something substantial. Something he’d never given her before.
“What else? Something made you get in the car and drive here tonight.”
His jaw clenched as he stared at her, his lips tight as if he forbade certain words to cross his tongue. It was amazing how much his silence could still injure her self-worth.
Shutting her eyes, she silently counted to ten. She’d told him he couldn’t keep doing this. She promised herself she wouldn’t allow him hurt her anymore. He needed to go.
“You have to leave.”
Startled by her words, his eyes widened. “Why?”
“Because I’m with someone, Sawyer.”
“Hughes?”
“Yes, and it’s not fair for you to come here making promises you should have made years ago.”
“But you said it wasn’t serious.”
She scoffed. “That was two months ago! Time moves on, whether we’re on sabbatical or not.”
“How serious is it?”
“Serious enough that I’ll probably talk to him about this.”
Panic flashed in his gaze. “He knows about us?”
She saw the moment he processed this as some sort of betrayal and she realized, for all his claims, things hadn’t changed. “Yes.”
“Then … tell him you need time. Any gentleman would allow you that without pressuring you to—”
“No,” she said quietly, cutting off his request. “I know what it’s like to be cast aside, thinking everything’s fine only to get blindsided by someone else’s uncertainty. I won’t do that to him.”
Clearly, he hadn’t expected such opposition. “Do you love him?”
Her molars locked. He had some nerve, tossing around words he couldn’t say.
“I care for him.”
“What you two have can’t compare to what we’ve shared, Isadora. We have a history.”
“What does that matter in regard to the future? Do you plan to marry me, Sawyer? Will you have children with me? Is that what you’re offering?”
“I’m not sure children are possible at this stage.”
“Charlie Chaplin would argue that.”
“What man wants to be seventy-five when his child’s just graduating high school?”
She gave a sad smile. “The irony of our situation is, had you asked me for more ten years ago, we could have had a flourishing family by now. But you never wanted more children or a second marriage. You only assumed I did. To be honest, I had no clue what I wanted at that point—aside from you.
“I was exhausted by my responsibilities, still raising Toni and always worrying about Lucian. I could’ve been happy just to be with you, but you kept us wrapped in this neat little box. Sometimes I was happy, inside of that box with you, but then…”
The memory of his past rejection stabbed deep. She loved him, would always love him, but he’d hurt her more than anyone else in this world. Perhaps that was always a risk when you trusted someone with your heart.
Collecting her composure, she blinked, only meeting his gaze when her vision cleared. “There were times I had to sit back and watch you
dine with other women, attending the same functions I attended. I let you get away with a lot when I was young, but I want more now. I want someone who’s certain they want a life with me. Someone who doesn’t see it as any sort of sacrifice. I don’t want to negotiate my happiness and you can probably take credit for me finally realizing that.”
“I know I’ve hurt you and I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never wanted things to get this complicated. I was only trying to protect you.”
Maybe that was true, but she was never as threatened by others’ opinions as he was. She never gave her reputation half the thought he did.
Years of feeling like she had some dirty secret to hide—like she was a dirty secret—had filled her with so much unnecessary shame and self-doubt. She couldn’t go back to hiding.
Swallowing tightly, she gave him the painful truth. “I spent years being your kept secret out of respect for your insecurities. I’m not sure you ever considered mine. People have assumed I’m everything from frigid to gay, because my life with you has always been the clandestine reality of a paramour. Your wife passed away long ago, and I was nothing more than the mistress to her ghost.”
“That’s not true. You were always my first priority.”
She scoffed. “Unless you count your colleagues, your social status, and your son.”
“I was protecting you, bella.”
“You were hiding me!”
“It wouldn’t be like that now. I don’t want to hide anymore.”
She tilted her head back, trying to imagine how it would be. Would they live together? Would he put some large stone on her finger like a placeholder in a book, buying time without losing his spot? That’s how he made her feel, like an unfinished novel, coveted yet cast aside over and over again, never truly loved to the end.
With a sad smile, she shook her head. “I’ll always love you, Sawyer. But you were right. I deserve the real thing. I deserve the fairytale. I want a family of my own and I want the undying devotion of a man who relishes the idea of a future with me. I’d never beg that from any man. If it can’t be given freely, I’d rather live alone. If anything, you’ve prepared me for that.”
Queen of the Knight (Surrender Games Book 2) Page 8
