She’d overthink it all tomorrow. For now, she just wanted to be held by him and listen to the sound of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. She pulled him to the bed, and they lay on it together. “Just hold me,” she whispered.
Chapter Twenty-Four
When Lisette got down to the kitchen in the morning, Eileen was already at the stove, scrambling eggs. “Good morning.”
“Ah, good morning, dearie!” Eileen said cheerfully. Lisette didn’t know how Eileen was always so upbeat in the morning without coffee. Eileen had sworn off caffeine a decade before and said she’d never felt better. Lisette, on the other hand, went straight to the coffee pot. The morning fog in her head wasn’t going to clear by itself.
“Thank you for making this,” she said as she poured herself a cup of dark ambrosia.
“Of course.”
“The kids downstairs in the playroom?”
“Yes. I gave them apples and bananas so they wouldn’t bounce off the walls, and I’m making them a real breakfast now.”
“Sounds right. Is Charles up yet?”
“He is, but he left early.” Eileen reached for a small cup and added some cubed ham to the eggs. “Said he had some errands to run and would be back around ten-thirty or eleven o’clock.”
“Good to know. Thanks.” Lisette went to the refrigerator to find the flavored coffee creamers, chose the hazelnut, and added some to her coffee. Her stomach rumbled. At least she wasn’t nauseous, but she was starving. She grabbed a banana from the large wooden fruit bowl.
Eileen pushed the eggs around with the spatula, then gestured for Lisette to come closer. “So the witch is back, eh?” she murmured.
Lisette nodded as she swallowed her bite. “And witchy as can be. I’ll never understand how she roped Charles in,” Lisette murmured.
“Won’t you?” Eileen asked, her brows lifting.
“Because she’s stunningly beautiful?”
“Nah, try again.” Eileen winked. “Charles was never the sucker for a pretty face like his brothers used to be.”
“Then I really don’t know.” Lisette took a sip of coffee. “It mystifies me, frankly.”
“There’s no mystery, sweetie,” Eileen said. “She was a bad, bad girl. Plain and simple. Charles’s father told him what to do his whole life. This was the one time Charles tried to buck the restraints and be naughty, you know?”
Lisette couldn’t believe it was something that simple. “You think so?”
“I know so. It’s textbook, really.” Eileen moved to put the mound of eggs onto a huge platter. “There’s no bigger pleasure than doing what you’re not supposed to, you know what I mean? But when everything became familiar and he realized what life with her would really be like? Well, by then, it was too late; he’d already had a child with her, and he was stuck with her.” Eileen shook her head in disdain. “He’s so honorable, he would’ve stayed with it forever, simply because he’d made an oath. She’s the one who left. She got bored. Yes, she broke his heart . . . but good riddance. Her leaving was the best thing that ever happened to him. She did him a huge favor.”
Lisette’s stomach did a wobbly roll as she considered what Eileen had said. That the forbidden is more enticing than anything . . . That certainly applied to their secret relationship, didn’t it? Was that really why Charles wanted her so much? Not because he wanted her, but because he wasn’t supposed to be with her? Doubt crept through her, nipping at her. He was unhappy with his regular life, sick of having his choices dictated to him . . . What better way to rebel and not hurt the company or his career than by having a fling with someone he shouldn’t? Oh, God . . .
“I’m going to check on the kids,” she said. “It’s too quiet.”
“Well, like I said, they’re down in the playroom,” Eileen said. “Could you tell them that breakfast is on the table?”
“Sure.” Lisette set down her mug on the counter and left the kitchen.
The entire furnished basement was a playroom. The tremendous space had been split in half: one half was for the kids; the other half had a bar, a pool table, and three vintage arcade games—an adult playroom for Charles. As she made her way down the stairs, she could hear the children talking and the TV volume blaring. At the bottom of the stairs, while she was still in the hallway, her cell phone rang in her pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID. The doctor’s office. And it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. “Hello?”
“Hi, is this Lisette Gardner?” said a male voice.
“Yes, it is.”
“Ah, hi, Lisette. It’s Dr. Gilbert.”
“You’re calling awfully early,” she said, her heart suddenly pounding. “And on a Saturday. Now I’m nervous.”
“Well,” he said, “we got some of the blood results back, and I wanted to speak to you right away.”
A wave of panic flooded her, and she leaned against the wall for support. She was sick; oh, God, something was wrong with her. “Go ahead.”
“The good news is, it definitely explains all the symptoms you described to me,” Dr. Gilbert said. “Lisette, you’re pregnant.”
Her head went all wavy, and she could barely breathe. “B-but that’s impossible. I can’t be pregnant.”
“I’ll admit, when looking over your files, I was surprised too. But according to the blood work, there’s no question. You’re pregnant.”
Her legs gave out, and she slid down the wall. The roaring of blood in her ears almost knocked her out. She finally sputtered, “There has to be a mistake. I was told I’d never get pregnant. The scarring, the damage—there’s no way—”
“Lisette. Take a deep breath,” Dr. Gilbert instructed. “I’m sure you’re shocked. But can you come in this morning? We’ll do an ultrasound and see what’s going on. We’ll run more tests. How soon can you get here?”
She swallowed hard, her mind unable to process. This was impossible. The doctors had made it very clear . . .
Then again, she hadn’t even had sex with anyone again—even once—after Brandon, so the doctors’ opinions had never been tested. There’d been no sex until Charles.
Oh, God. Charles. What a mess. But . . .
New waves of mixed panic and excitement crested and battered her. She struggled to breathe. Could it really be possible? A baby of her own? The tiniest spark of hope ignited deep in her soul, in a place she’d locked up and snuffed out years ago . . .
“Lisette?” Dr. Gilbert said loudly. “Are you there?”
“Y-yeah,” she whispered. “I’m here. Sorry. Just overwhelmed.”
“I bet. Let’s run more tests,” he said. “Come to the office. All right?”
Eyes still closed, heart pounding, mind racing, hope fighting to rise to the top despite it all, she drew a shaky breath and said, “I’ll be there in an hour.”
* * *
Four hours later, Lisette entered the mansion in a total daze. Nothing felt real. So many emotions had gripped and slammed her that day that she was now drained. All she wanted was to climb into her bed and sleep until tomorrow.
She had so many decisions to make. Her life had just changed, massively and irrevocably, and she could barely process any of it. But there was one emotion reigning over all the rest: joy. She really was pregnant. The ultrasound, blood, and urine tests had all left no room for doubt. She was already approximately nine weeks along.
The doctor had told her it would likely be considered a high-risk pregnancy just because of her history, aside from her being a few months away from turning thirty-five, and he had given her a referral for an obstetrician in the same building. She’d gone straight there, and even heard her baby’s heartbeat, strong and sure. The sound had been such a shock, such an unbelievable gift, that she’d burst into tears.
There were so many things to consider; she was completely overwhelmed. She needed time to think, to figure out how to tell Charles that he’d gotten her pregnant.
He’d trusted and believed her
when she told him her story. What if he thought she had tricked him into getting her pregnant to take some of his substantial fortune? What if Charles wasn’t happy about the news? He already had three children and was forty years old; maybe he didn’t want the responsibility of another one.
She swayed in the foyer at that horrible thought. Her hand protectively went to her belly. She had no idea what would happen to her now, or what the reactions around her would be, but she knew one thing with every fiber of her being: she wouldn’t let anything happen to this baby. Not for anything in the world.
Lisette looked around at the opulent mansion as she shuffled slowly inside. The expensive and tasteful furnishings were tangible proof of the billionaire lifestyle of the home’s owner. Hell, the artwork on the walls? Any of those pieces likely cost more than she made in a year. Charles Roger Harrison III was a wealthy, powerful man from a long line with a storied history. Who the hell was she in comparison? She was nobody. An army brat with no roots, no family, no prestigious connections or money or anything substantial. She had nothing but her job and herself.
She passed the living room and caught a glimpse of the Christmas tree, majestic and beautiful. A baby. She was actually going to have a baby of her own. She’d have more than a job; she’d have someone in her life who would stay. Her eyes went to the holiday decorations adorning the house, sparkling and festive. It was almost like a Christmas miracle . . .
Excitement, anguish, and disbelief slammed her at the same time, the flood of feelings almost bringing her to her knees.
Bed. She needed her bed. Swallowing hard, she went to the stairs.
“Hey, there you are!” Charles’s ebullient voice rang out from down the hall.
She’d made it to the bottom step. Lisette froze, and she felt the blood drain from her face. She wasn’t ready to face him yet. “Hi,” she choked out, heart thumping against her ribs.
“I was wondering where you were.” Smiling brightly, he went to her, standing close but not touching her. “The kids went out with Vanessa for ice cream. We were here all morning, and she seemed okay with them, so I let her take them out on her own. A trial run, so to speak.” He winked conspiratorially. “We’re mostly alone; Eileen’s in the kitchen, and Maisie and Felicia are cleaning the upstairs right now . . .” He peered closely at her. “Where’d you disappear to? Didn’t you get my texts?”
Of course she had. But she’d been otherwise occupied, crying and trembling from shock in a doctor’s office. “Sorry. I was busy . . .”
His expression changed; staring, he frowned hard. “What’s wrong?” He finally reached out to touch her, tipping her chin up with his fingers. “I’m rambling, and something happened; it’s all over your face.”
Her eyes shut again, as if that would shield her from his scrutiny. “I’m wiped out, and I need to lie down, that’s all.” She opened her eyes and added, “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” He edged closer, concern in his bright blue eyes. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Damn, he knew her too well already. Her mind raced, trying to think of an excuse that would sound plausible. “I . . . I ran some errands, but then I . . . had a doctor’s appointment. Couldn’t answer texts during my exam.”
“You went, like I asked? Great.” His hands gently gripped her arms. “And?”
“And they ran a bunch of tests . . . blood work and all . . . I’ll hear back in a few days.” She tried to smile as her eyes darted around the room. “I’m okay.”
“What do they think it might be?” Charles asked. “Based on your symptoms?”
They think a miracle has happened, and you’re going to be a father again in July. “Not sure. They didn’t want to scare me with speculations. They’ll call when they know something, if there’s anything. Said I should eat better and sleep more, stay away from caffeine, etcetera, etcetera.” At least that last part was true.
He held her face with both hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Why won’t you look at me?”
Oh, God, oh, God, she wouldn’t be able to keep this from him for long. And he had the right to know. But she had to figure out what her plans would be, prepare herself for every possible scenario. “I’m just really tired. I . . . threw up again on the way home from the doctor,” she lied. “Probably from nerves, but I’m trying not to breathe puke breath in your face, and I just want to crawl into bed, you know?”
“My poor sweetheart. Come with me,” he murmured firmly and led her upstairs, down the long corridor to his bedroom.
“There are people in the house,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder. “We can’t—”
“I’m locking us in here. No one will know.” Charles ushered her into his room, immediately locking the door behind them. An arm around her waist, he brought her to his massive bed, covered with the multi-hued blue comforter and several throw pillows. He yanked back the covers and shot her a sweet grin. “Get in. Nap time.”
Tears stung her eyes. The kinder he was, the more attentive and caring he was, the more it was going to kill her. “I should just go to my room.”
“No.” He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m selfish. I want some time alone with you. Even if it’s just holding you while you sleep.”
“But when Vanessa comes back with the kids—”
“This will be the one room they won’t look for you in, right? So you can sleep, uninterrupted. You do look a little tired.” He smiled softly and caressed her face. “Lisette. You always take care of everyone else. For an hour at least, let someone take care of you. Me. The guy who loves you.”
“Oh, Charles . . .” The tears welled and spilled over onto her cheeks.
“Hey.” His thumbs tenderly wiped the tears away. “Shhh, you’re going to be fine. The doctors will figure out what’s going on, and we’ll deal with it, and you’ll be fine.”
“We’ll deal with it?” she echoed, sniffling.
“Yes. We’re together, aren’t we?” He lowered his head and gently kissed her forehead, lingering sweetly for a moment before his eyes pinned hers. “I love you. That means whatever is going on with you, I’m here for you. You’re not alone anymore, sweetheart. Neither of us is. We have each other now, right?”
Sobbing, she grasped at him, clinging to him as if for her life. She wished she knew what the future held. How was it possible to be so elated and so terrified at the same time? The sobs ripped from her throat, and she buried her face in his chest.
“Whoa. Shhhh.” He held her tight and rubbed her back, kissing her forehead, her temple, trying to soothe her. “I’m here, sweetheart. Please try not to worry. I’m sure you’re okay. Everything’s going to be all right.”
She cried for a few minutes, the tsunami of emotion finally sweeping her away. So many decisions to make, so much was going to change . . . She thought about telling him then, but she wasn’t ready. She wanted to fully absorb this incredible news herself before she shared it with anyone else, even him. She’d tell him soon; of course she’d have to. But not today.
When she could finally draw some deep breaths, he released her and went to the bathroom, returning with a box of tissues. She thanked him in a hoarse whisper and mopped up her face.
“You soaked through my shirt,” he said, trying to coax a smile out of her. “I guess I’ll have to be half-naked while I hold you. Think you can stand that?”
She hiccupped out a watery giggle and nodded. “I’d love that, actually.”
Grinning, he pulled the charcoal gray Henley over his head and dropped it to the floor, then kicked off his shoes. As he stood there in only his glasses and jeans, even in the depths of her turmoil, Lisette couldn’t help but admire him.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered. “Inside and out.”
He smiled warmly as he reached for her hands. “Thank you.” He brought her mouth to his, kissing her tenderly. “C’mon. Nap time for you, missy.” He nudged her to sit on the bed, then pulled off her knee-high black leather bo
ots, then moved her up the mattress and placed her in the middle of his bed. He climbed in beside her, pulled up the covers over them, and curled his arms around her until they were in a delicious cocoon.
“Thank you for all this,” she whispered against his chest, kissing his skin. “I’m too exhausted to be embarrassed or to fight you on this. So just thank you.”
“Take a deep breath,” he said. She did as she was told. “Another.” She did so.
“I love you,” she said softly, her eyes closing of their own volition. “So much.”
“I love you too,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Sleep as long as you need to.” His hands swept over her hair and back in long, tender strokes. “You have the rest of this weekend off, you hear me? Catching up on rest is what you need.”
She fell into a blissfully deep sleep, glad to be in his embrace and to escape everything for even a short while.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lisette spent the rest of the weekend in her room or out of the house, which was understandable, given Vanessa’s presence. But Monday morning, Lisette was 100 percent back in action, getting the kids up and off to school. All week, Charles didn’t know what Vanessa did with her time while the kids were at school, and he didn’t care. But she was more than happy to let Lisette pick them all up and go through their homework with them, coming to the house around five o’clock every day for the fun parts and staying until bedtime.
As much as it pained Charles to admit it, the kids were happy. Having both women around, bathing in the affection and attention being showered on them, their collective change in mood and attitude was palpable. It hurt his heart, because he knew damn well that come December twenty-sixth, Vanessa would be gone again, and who knew when the kids would see her next?
On Wednesday night, by the time Charles got home from work, Lisette was upstairs overseeing the kids while they showered. He found Vanessa in the main living room, looking at framed photos on the mantel above the fireplace.
“Are you staying to put the kids to bed?” he asked curtly.
'Tis the Season Page 25
