Playboy Prince, Single Dad (Love Is Priceless Book 4)

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Playboy Prince, Single Dad (Love Is Priceless Book 4) Page 18

by Holly Rayner


  I’m just going to have to trust him, I tell myself firmly. He asked me to trust him, and I do. I know he would never do anything to hurt me.

  I know I’ll have to tell him. I can’t help feeling nervous about that, wondering how he’ll take it, what he’ll say. But it has to be done.

  And I’m certain of two more things.

  First, I want this baby. I want to keep it. That’s not negotiable. The swell of joy I felt when I realized I was pregnant was all the sign I need that I’m meant to do this. Whatever else comes, I am going to be a mother. I am going to have this child.

  And second, I want to stay with Tomas.

  I want him in my baby’s life. And I want the two of us to be together. The love I feel for him is more powerful than any I’ve ever felt in my life, and if I have any choice at all in the matter, I’m not going to let that go.

  I just hope I’m able to keep both him and the baby. I hope he doesn’t ask me to choose.

  Chapter 22

  Emma

  I think Anne might know what’s going on. She’s been making a big to-do all day about how she and Lara haven’t spent any time one-on-one in ages, and now she’s talking about taking Lara out to a special dinner tonight. Every time she says this, she gives me a pointed look. I think she’s trying to give me a window to tell Tomas the truth.

  I don’t know if I can do it.

  I’ve been brooding on it since this morning, and although I can barely contain my excitement at the realization that I’m pregnant, the truth is that things have been going almost impossibly well between Tomas and me, and it’s hard to see how any change could be a good thing.

  It is a good thing, I remind myself. You know how much he loves Lara. There couldn’t possibly be a better father for your baby.

  As Lara chatters excitedly about which restaurant she might like to go to, Anne takes my arm and pulls me into the pantry off the kitchen. It’s immense and full of enough dry and canned goods to survive the first few weeks of an apocalypse.

  “You’ll tell him while we’re out tonight?” she asks me.

  “How did you know?” I ask.

  “I guessed,” she says. “Tomas told me you were sick this morning. But I’m right, aren’t I?”

  I feel like I’ve been caught sneaking out of the house or something. “Yes,” I admit.

  She assesses me carefully. “Are you unhappy about it?”

  “What? No! I’m over the moon.”

  “But you seem conflicted.”

  “I’m worried,” I admit. “What if Tomas doesn’t take the news well? I have no idea how he’s going to respond.”

  She nods, and I see the empathy on her face. “You won’t know for sure until you tell him,” she says. “It's the only thing you can do.”

  “Anne?”

  “Yes?”

  “How did he handle it when his ex-girlfriend told him she was expecting Lara?”

  Anne smiles. “He was over the moon,” she says.

  “Even then? Even before he knew Lara at all, when she was just an idea?”

  “He loved the idea of becoming a father,” Anne says. “You know Tomas. He cares a lot about family. His own, growing up, was disappointing to him, I think. Having a daughter was a chance for him to try again. To get it right.”

  It’s a nice thought, that Tomas was always excited about the idea of kids. It’s encouraging. But it doesn’t exactly quench my fears. He’s got a family now. He’s got a kid of his own. Maybe one is enough for him, and he doesn’t want any more. My heart flutters in my chest.

  Please, just let him be happy with the news.

  At five o’clock on the nose, Anne and Lara leave the house, Lara still brimming with discussion about the menu of the place they’ve chosen to eat.

  “I’m going to get lobster,” she tells her father as she hugs him goodbye, and he chuckles and tugs gently on one of her braids. “I’ll bring some back for you, if you want.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Tomas says. “Emma’s going to make me dinner tonight.”

  Lara nods seriously and turns to me. “Don’t make lobster,” she says. “I’m probably going to bring some home.”

  “I won’t make lobster,” I pledge.

  Tomas and I stand arm in arm and watch the car pull down the drive. “It’s like we’re sending our kid off to her first day of school,” he says.

  I love when he acts like Lara is my kid too. And given what I have to tell him tonight, it’s a promising start.

  “Does she really eat lobster?”

  “Oh, she loves it. She wouldn’t actually be upset at all if you made lobster tonight, as long as there were leftovers for her.”

  “What a funny kid.”

  “So what are you actually thinking of making tonight?” he asks. “I was surprised when you said you wanted to cook.”

  “You don’t think I can cook?”

  “I’m sure you can! I’ve just never seen you do it before, so it was a surprising request.”

  “Actually,” I say, “do you remember that meal you made for me a few months ago, the first time I stayed for dinner?”

  “Potato pancakes and sausage,” Tomas says with a grin. “It was my favorite as a boy. How could I forget?”

  “I thought I’d give that a try,” I say. “If you wouldn’t mind coaching me, that is.”

  His eyes sparkle, and my stomach swoops, as it always does when I can see that I’ve made him happy.

  “Are you kidding?” he asks. “For a chance to eat potato pancakes and sausage, I’d do just about anything.” His eyes narrow briefly. “Wait a minute. Are you trying to butter me up?”

  “Maybe I am,” I admit.

  “Well, whatever you want from me, I’m sure it will be a yes,” he says easily.

  My stomach clenches like a vice. He has no idea of the magnitude of what I’m going to ask him when the meal is served.

  Tomas shows me how to grate the potatoes into fine strips and gather them into the rough shape of a pancake in the frying pan. We add onions, oil, garlic, salt, and a few other seasonings, and before long the kitchen is starting to smell wonderful.

  I keep cooking for a long time, far longer than is necessary to make enough pancakes for Tomas and me, and I couldn’t say exactly why. Maybe I’m hoping to offer leftovers to Lara. Maybe I’m just trying not to waste the grated potatoes. Or maybe it’s that I’m caught up in the delicious feeling of Tomas’s arms around me as I cook, Tomas’s hand wrapped over mine to help me shake the pan and flip the pancakes, Tomas’s body all around me.

  But if I’m truly honest with myself, I don’t think it’s any of that.

  I think the real reason I’m lingering here in the kitchen, stacking more and more pancakes on the serving platter, is to put off the moment when I’ll have to tell Tomas the truth about what’s going on with me. As long as we’re here, we can talk about cooking techniques. We can flirt by swatting at each other with wooden spoons. I can pretend that this is just another night together, and not the biggest night of my life so far.

  Eventually, though, we’re out of potatoes, and there’s nothing left for us to do but to make our way into the dining room for the main course.

  It feels strange to be eating in this huge room, at this huge table, with only the two of us here. I never realized how much room Lara’s presence took up. I’m half tempted to ask Tomas if he’d like to take the meal up to his suite, but I decide against it. Depending on how this conversation plays out, it might be better to keep it in as neutral a space as possible.

  God, I’m afraid. I don’t think I’ve ever been this afraid in my life. What happens next will dictate my future. My hopes are so high. My fears are so vast. There’s no middle ground.

  Tomas, seemingly blind to my mounting anxiety, dishes up the first round of pancakes. He adds a few sausages to my plate before passing it back to me. “Here you are.”

  “You’re going to have to tell me if they’re good or not,” I say. “I’ve only ha
d potato pancakes once before in my life, so I don’t know if the taste is right or not.”

  “They look right,” he says, smiling approvingly. “Nice golden crispy outsides, see? And if you cut them open—go ahead, do it.”

  I do. They’re flaky and unbrowned on the inside.

  “Perfectly cooked,” Tomas praises me. “Better than I usually do it myself, to tell you the truth.”

  “Really?” That surprises me. I had no idea how long to cook the pancakes, and I was counting on the fact that overcooking potatoes isn’t really the end of the world. To hear that I did it well is a relief.

  “You have an eye for it, it seems,” Tomas says. “And good for you. It’s hard to time the cooking of potato pancakes this perfectly. It took me years to stop burning them.”

  “Beginner’s luck,” I say, flushing. “And besides, I had you there to coach me. I had the benefit of your experience. So I wasn’t exactly starting from square one in there.”

  “Whatever it was, it’s pretty great.” He flashes me a grin. “You just keep improving my life in every way.”

  Suddenly it’s more than I can bear. I feel my throat tightening up, and to my horror, I feel tears welling up in my eyes.

  Tomas looks horrified. “Emma? What’s wrong? What did I say?” He jumps up from his chair and rushes to my side, taking me in his arms. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  I shake my head. “You didn’t upset me,” I say. “It isn’t that.”

  “But you’re crying.”

  “I just…Tomas, did you mean what you just said?”

  “About the pancakes?” His face is a mask of confusion. “Of course I did. They’re wonderful. You’re not worried about that, are you?”

  “No, no, not the pancakes. The other part.” I swallow hard. “You said…you said that I improve your life in every way. Did you mean it?”

  He cups my face in his hands. “How can you doubt that?” he asks. “Every moment with you is wonderful, Emma. It’s like…I didn’t even realize, before I knew you, that I was sad. I didn’t even know that I was lonely. You woke that up in me, and then you immediately took it away. I’ve never been happier in all my life.”

  “I feel the same way,” I say tearfully.

  “Then why are you crying? Are they happy tears?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, choking on another sob. “Maybe they are.”

  “Are you sick?” he asks. “You weren’t well this morning. I was worried. Do you need to go back to bed?” He feels my forehead with the back of his hand, and for a moment he is so parental that I’m overwhelmed.

  “I’m not sick,” I manage. “I’m all right.”

  “You’re not all right. Just look at you.” He picks up a clean cloth napkin from the table and dabs the tears from my face. “I think we should go up to our rooms. I’ll have the butler bring the rest of dinner up on a cart. How would that be?”

  “No, wait,” I say, gripping his arm.

  I need to pull myself together. Vaguely, I wonder if I’m hormonal. That might explain the fact that I’m going to pieces right now. The thought actually makes me laugh through my tears, and Tomas looks more concerned than ever.

  “I want to believe that I’m making your life better,” I tell him.

  “You are.”

  “I hope so. I hope…I hope you still think so, after what I’m about to tell you.”

  “What is it?”

  I draw a deep breath and exhale slowly, allowing it to settle my nerves as much as possible.

  “I’m pregnant,” I say.

  He blinks.

  He doesn’t respond.

  Fear floods me. Is he upset?

  Nerves twanging, I begin to babble.

  “That’s why I was sick this morning,” I say. “I suspected it then, so I took a pregnancy test, and…and it came back positive. I’m pregnant. Probably a few weeks now. I don’t know.”

  Still no response.

  I feel like my insides are melting. “Tomas, will you say something? Please?”

  He looks up at me, green eyes blazing. “You’re pregnant?” he says, his voice a rasp.

  I nod, unsure of what to make of him.

  He stands, pulling me to my feet beside him, and flings his arms around me. “Are you really?” he whispers into my ear.

  His hug is so warm, so reassuring after all my worry.

  “Are you happy?” I ask.

  “Am I happy!” He lets me go and stares at me, his face shining. He looks ten years younger. “We’re going to have a baby! You’ve known this all day and you didn’t say anything?”

  I feel, suddenly, all loose and giddy inside, as if I’d just gotten off an intense thrill ride.

  “I was afraid you might not take it well,” I admit. “I mean, I’m incredibly happy about it. But what if you didn’t want another kid? You’ve already got Lara.”

  “How could I not want another little one after raising Lara!” He pulls me close again and plants a kiss on my lips. “You’ll have to move into the master suite with me. We’ll need the guest suite for a nursery. Oh, this is the most exciting thing that could have happened. I can’t believe it. You’re pregnant!” He whirls me around.

  I feel like a balloon is swelling up within me, like I might lift up off the ground at any minute. “I’m just so glad you’re happy about it,” I say.

  “Of course I’m happy. And to think, today of all days!”

  “Today of all days?” I’m confused. “What does that mean?”

  He hugs me again, then releases me.

  And drops to one knee.

  “Oh God,” I whisper, realizing at once what he means to do.

  “Why do you think I asked Anne to take Lara out tonight?” he asks me quietly.

  “You asked her to?”

  “Of course.”

  “I thought she was trying to do me a favor. So that I could tell you about the baby.”

  “She knew about the baby?” He laughs. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Anne knows pretty much everything that goes on around here. I guess she saw an opportunity to help both of us out at once.”

  He fishes in the pocket of his pants for a moment and comes out with a small box. A ring box.

  “I know we’ve only known each other for a short time, Emma Clark,” he says. “But to me, it already feels like forever. I feel like, in a lot of ways, my life began when I met you. You’ve lit up parts of me that were dark for years. I never imagined I could be this happy.”

  My tears are flowing freely now.

  “To know that you’re pregnant with my child—” His voice grows thick, and I see to my astonishment that he’s also holding back tears. “To know that we’re going to be a family makes me feel as though my life is complete. And I can only think of one thing that would make me happier.”

  He opens the ring box. It’s a square-cut diamond surrounded by beautiful sapphires, a perfect match for the earrings he gave me.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

  “And nothing in this world would make me happier than to have you wear it,” he says. “Nothing would make me happier than for you to be my wife, Emma. And today of all days, as we start our family together, it seems like it’s fate that we should make it official in this way as well.” He takes my hand. “Will you make me the happiest man alive? Will you marry me?”

  I can’t speak. I’m overcome. All I can do is nod and whisper, “Yes!”

  He removes the ring from the box and slips it carefully onto my finger, and though the white gold band is cool on my skin and the weight of it is unfamiliar, in a way it feels as though it’s meant to be there. As though it’s belonged there all my life, and only now is my hand complete.

  Tomas gets to his feet, my hand still gripped in his, and takes me in his arms. “You’re beautiful,” he says quietly. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known.”

  He pulls me close and kisses me, hard and slow, his mouth full of passion and pouring into mine, and I ope
n for him like a flower. All the resistance I’ve ever felt in my life to romance, relationships, and men has completely melted away. In this moment there is only me and Tomas, the growing heat that surrounds us and ties us together, the sparks between us where our hands find each other’s bodies.

  He pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against mine. “Now can we go up to the bedroom?” he asks.

  I laugh through my tears again. “I think that would be best.”

  He scoops me up in his arms again and fairly runs through the house, out of the kitchen, and up the stairs. I’m always amazed by his physical strength. No one has lifted me like this in years. He won’t be able to do it for much longer, I think. Soon my body will start to ripen and swell. Soon my baby will grow.

  I’m surprised by how appealing the idea is. I imagine myself at nine months pregnant, my stomach and breasts swollen. I imagine Tomas wrapping an arm around me as we sleep, his hand resting on one of my full breasts. I imagine him standing behind me in the kitchen, the way we were today, his hands finding my stomach instead of the cooking utensils. I imagine feeling the baby kick inside me and looking up over my shoulder to see that Tomas has felt it too.

  I imagine my newborn child in my arms, Lara kneeling on the bed beside us to get a better look, Tomas beaming at all of us with pride and adoration.

  I need to get my camera ready. There are some picture-perfect days ahead for all of us.

  The End

  I hope you’ve enjoyed Tomas and Emma’s story! In case you missed it, keep reading for the first chapter of the previous book in my Love Is Priceless series, The Deal With Triplets

  Happy reading!

  Love, Holly x

  The Deal With Triplets

  Chapter 1

  Zoe

  April

  Snoozing my alarm had seemed like a good idea at the time, a rare treat for me during the workweek. Now, though, I had twenty-five minutes to put on enough makeup to look human and make it twelve blocks away to the office. Caffeine was necessary, too.

 

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