by Jennie Lucas
A baby. She’d soon be holding a sweet baby in her arms. Kassius’s and hers.
She felt overwhelmed by emotion, caught between joy and anxiety. Her family’s words came back to haunt her.
Face it, Laney May. The man doesn’t respect you.
But Kassius did respect her. She knew he did. He always told her she was beautiful and how much he desired her. He told her he couldn’t wait to marry her and start a family. He thanked her for accompanying him to business dinners—“You’re a natural, you charm everyone”—and as for her cooking skills—well, his enthusiasm for that knew no bounds.
On Valentine’s Day, she’d made him a romantic dinner in the house’s enormous kitchen, with all of his favorite dishes.
“I’m in love,” Kassius had moaned, his expression one of pure ecstasy. Unfortunately, he was looking at the fried chicken as he said it.
And maybe that was the problem.
Laney shivered under her grandma’s quilt.
She didn’t just want him to love her fried chicken, or her jambalaya, or her gumbo. She wanted him to love her.
Because she was in love with him.
She couldn’t deny it anymore. Couldn’t tell herself it was just a crush. Honestly, she’d been in love with him from the day he’d hit her with his car.
For her, it had been love at first sight.
But for him...?
Kassius never mentioned love. And though she tried to convince herself that he, too, must have also loved her at first sight—otherwise, why would he have proposed marriage?—she feared she was deluding herself. He had such hard edges. He rarely spoke of his feelings, or desires beyond sex or food or the next business deal. He sometimes spent hours working out at the gym, coming back bruised from sparring at the dojo. What drove him so hard?
She wished she knew. But when she asked him personal questions, he changed the subject. He didn’t ask her about her feelings or her past, either.
If only he would trust her enough to let her in. If only he could love her. If only the news of their coming baby could be the crack that would let light, and love, into his heart!
The bodyguard peeked in an hour later.
“I just heard Mr. Black’s plane isn’t expected till later. Do you need anything, Miss Laney?”
She smiled up at him from the sofa, grabbing a magazine. Winter twilight was starting to fade through the windows, but she felt too exhausted to bother turning on a light. “No, thank you, Benito. I’m good.”
And he, too, departed for his own suite of rooms in the basement, where he was always available in case of trouble, as a backup to the security alarm in their very safe neighborhood.
Laney’s eyes soon grew heavy. She must have fallen asleep, because she woke in darkness when she heard the front door slam. Hearing Kassius’s voice, she sat up on the sofa, ready to call out his name.
Then she heard a woman’s low, throaty laugh in the foyer. “You’re taking a risk, bringing me here.”
Heart pounding, Laney sank down lower on the sofa, lifting the quilt back up to her forehead so they wouldn’t see her as they walked by the open doorway.
“What will you do if your sweet little Laney finds out?” The woman continued. Her voice was familiar. Very familiar.
“She won’t. She’s a deep sleeper, especially lately.” Kassius’s voice was low and cool. “Better to do it here, where no one can see us.”
“Ah, so the little angel sleeping peacefully upstairs has no idea what you’re up to? I thought you two were so close. I heard you were engaged.”
“We are.”
“Funny sort of engagement. Seems she went from being my servant to yours.”
Hardly breathing, Laney peeked over the back of the sofa to see Kassius, looking devastatingly handsome as ever in his suit covered by a long black coat. And the woman with him—her old boss, Mimi du Plessis!
“Here,” Kassius said to her, grabbing a black velvet box from a drawer. “As promised.”
She opened it and smiled. “You’re a man of your word.” Lifting her blond hair off her neck, she glanced back at him flirtatiously. “Put it on me.”
Setting down the box on the entryway table, he lifted out an exquisite diamond necklace and wrapped it around her throat. “There. Good?”
“Good.” Turning back, she looked up at him and observed, “You know, it might have been cheaper for you to just marry me instead of paying me in gifts.”
“Or not.”
“Or not,” she agreed. She gave him a mock salute. “Until next time.”
Mimi du Plessis walked out of the foyer, her sharp little heels clacking against the marble floor. When the front door closed behind her, Kassius exhaled, pulling off his long black coat. His shoulders looked weary.
Trembling, Laney rose from the sofa and rushed into the brightly lit foyer. When Kassius saw her, his tired face lit up. But she was way past caring about that now.
“What the hell is going on?” she demanded.
It was so unlike her to curse, he stared at her in shock. “Laney—”
“What was she doing here? Why did you give her jewelry? Why?”
His expression shuttered. Turning back to his laptop bag, he pulled out his computer, then glanced back at the dark sitting room. “Eavesdropping, were you? Waiting in the dark to see what you could discover?”
“I fell asleep on the sofa, waiting to tell you—” She bit off her words. “It doesn’t matter! I heard you!”
“And just what do you think you heard?”
“Are you having an affair?” she choked out, feeling wretched.
“Are you serious?”
A wave of nausea hit her, and she was suddenly afraid she might throw up into the potted palm at the bottom of the stairs. “Is she the one you actually love? Is that it? Was that why you proposed to me—just to make her jealous?”
Kassius’s jaw clenched. “If you’re going to talk crazy, I’m going to bed.”
But as he turned away from her, Laney’s knees sagged back toward the wall. Suddenly he was there, catching her. He searched her face fiercely.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine.” Her teeth were chattering. “Just furious, and...” Terrified. That’s what she was. Terrified.
“You’re not fine,” he said, and without asking for permission, he lifted her up into his arms.
She felt too weak to fight as he carried her upstairs. Setting her down softly on their bed, he poured her a glass of water from the en suite bathroom. “Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?”
“It’s—nothing,” she said weakly.
He stood by the bed. His lips curved downward. “I’m calling a doctor.”
“I already saw one...”
“You did?”
“Just tell me the truth,” she pleaded. She grabbed his arm, looking up at him. The nausea was starting to abate, but her heart was filled with pain. “Do you love her?”
He looked down at her in the shadowy bedroom. “Of course I don’t.”
“Because if you do—”
“I’ll never love her. Or anyone.”
His answer, far from being reassuring, made everything even worse.
“Anyone?” she said through dry lips. She took a deep breath, looking up at him with anguish. “You’ll never love me?”
He sat down on the bed beside her. “No,” he said quietly. “Sorry.”
Her face was hot, her eyes burning with shame. “Won’t—or can’t?”
“What’s the difference?”
“Then why did you propose to me?” she said hoarsely.
“For the reasons I told you.” Reaching out, he stroked a tendril of her hair. “Sex. Home. A family. Children.”
“But all that is supposed to spring from love.” She licked her dry lips, tried to be hopeful. “Maybe in time...”
His expression hardened. “No, Laney.” He pulled away. “I thought you understood. I’m not a sentimental man. It’s not in my nature.”<
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“What happened to you?” she choked out. “To turn you like this?”
Kassius stared at her for a moment. Then, rising from the bed, he went to the window. He pushed it open and took a breath of the cold February air.
Winter in London had a hard chill, different from Monaco or New Orleans. Or maybe it was Laney’s soul that felt so suddenly frozen. Maybe it was her heart.
She watched a curl of cold winter wind blow against the curtains as, for a long moment, he looked out blankly at the iced-over city. Then he looked at her. “Love was never part of the deal. You knew that.”
“I didn’t, I never knew that!” she cried.
He exhaled. “Well, you know now.” He looked at her. “Do you want out of our engagement?”
Laney might have said yes, she wanted out. If she had known from the beginning that he would never love her...that he would only give his money and his body but never his soul, not even the tiniest bit.
But it was too late now. She couldn’t leave. Not when she was pregnant with his child. After growing up with the heartbreak of having her mother put her own selfish, ultimately futile pursuit of happiness ahead of her family’s needs, Laney had sworn she’d never do the same. Nothing mattered more to her than family. Nothing. Her unborn baby deserved a father, especially a loving one, like she believed Kassius would be. And as long as he loved their baby, she told herself she could live without him loving her.
But oh, the thought hurt. She wanted him to love her. She wanted it desperately.
If only she could believe there was some chance, no matter how small...
“If you can’t accept what I offer you,” Kassius said quietly, “perhaps it would be better if I just let you go.”
Biting her lip, she looked up at him. “Perhaps we could just get to know each other better. I know you don’t like to talk about yourself,” she added hastily, “but I could start by telling you about me. How I grew up, and—”
“I already know everything,” he interrupted, sounding bored. “I had a private investigator pull up a dossier. I know absolutely everything about you.”
She froze. “You do?”
He nodded.
“About—my father’s injury? And how my mother left us?”
“Everything.”
“Since when?”
“Since before the New Year’s Eve ball.”
So before their first kiss, Kassius had already known about her private griefs—her father’s injury, her mother’s abandonment and death. While she knew almost nothing about him at all.
Laney felt sick. Violated. “If you wanted to know about my past, you could have just asked me.”
“More efficient just to buy the information.”
A chill went through her. “What made you this way?”
“What way?” he said.
“So cold,” she whispered. “Sometimes you’re so warm, and other times...so cold. Like you don’t care about anyone and you prefer it that way.”
“That’s about right.”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” She gave a low, strangled laugh. “I should have known, just from your wealth.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Laney looked at him steadily. “Normal people do not become billionaires. The relentless pursuit of money requires cold sacrifice and single-mindedness that few people have.”
His sensual lips curved. “You’re just now figuring that out?”
“The only ones who can do it have a hole in their hearts,” she whispered. She looked at him in the shadowy bedroom. “What caused the hole in your heart, Kassius, that’s made you willing to sacrifice your own happiness in pursuit of money and power?”
He stared at her, his jaw tight. “I was poor and made myself rich. You think that proves me heartless?”
“That’s not what I said—”
“What do you want from me, Laney?” he demanded.
“I want you to...” To let me love you. And I want you to love me. But she couldn’t say those things, because she already knew what his answer would be—dismissive, cold, sarcastic. So licking her lips, she said, “I want to know a little more about you. As your future wife, I surely have that right. The obligation!”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. What exactly do you want to know?”
“For starters—where are you from?”
“Lots of places.” He gave her a cynical smile. “I’m a citizen of the world.”
“Sure,” she said impatiently. “But where were you born?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Your first language—”
“I speak six of them. They all hold an equal importance to me.”
“You must have a passport.”
“I have a few.” She wondered if he was joking, but he bared his teeth in a smile. “All perfectly legal, of course. I make large investments in many countries. You heard about the building project in Malaysia that will be the tallest skyscraper in the world? That’s mine. Governments are grateful. I bring high-paying jobs for their citizens.”
“And profit for yourself.”
“Of course. Why else would I do it?”
She pounced. “So why do you keep lending money to Boris Kuznetsov? His company is on life support. You have to know you’ll never get that money back. Even Mimi said so. In what way is that profitable?”
His expression turned hard. “It’s not your concern.”
“What does it have to do with Mimi? Why did you bring her here and give her diamonds? If you’re not having an affair—”
“You want to know me? You won’t learn this way. Talking isn’t how people reveal themselves. It’s how they hide.” His jaw tightened. “I’m not having an affair with Mimi du Plessis, believe me. I’ll never betray you, Laney. If you don’t want me to lie to you, don’t ask me questions I can’t answer.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“I told you. It’s the same thing.”
“I’m to just stay out of your life—is that it? Just be sweet and grateful and warm your bed, without ever challenging you? Mimi was right.” She lifted her chin. “You want a servant. Not a wife.”
“I am who I am. If you don’t like it, leave.”
His voice was cold. As if he didn’t care either way. As if he could go out and get himself a new fiancée tomorrow. Which, she thought miserably, he probably could.
While Laney was utterly trapped, both by duty and devotion.
She’d let herself fall in love him, based on the exhilarating way he’d made her feel. She hadn’t bothered to ask serious questions or properly know him. She’d just let herself fall for him like a stone.
Laney’s fingertips traced the huge diamond on her left hand. She yearned to give in to the demands of her pride, to rip the ring off her finger and throw it back in his face. She yearned to tell him exactly where he could take the ring and his cold heart.
But she couldn’t. Not now. She was pregnant with his baby.
Laney thought longingly of her grandmother, and her father, and home, and the smell of magnolia blossoms, the bright red bougainvillea and weeping cypress trees. Her family had been right about everything. Romantic dreams had blinded her to reality.
Feeling heartsick, she whispered, “What about a baby?”
His expression changed. “What about it?”
“If we...had a child. You couldn’t love our baby, either?”
“That’s different. I’d always protect my children, and make sure they felt secure and loved.”
She exhaled, closing her eyes. That decided her.
Her unborn baby hadn’t been the one to make such a foolish mistake, getting engaged and pregnant and falling in love with a man before she ever thought to ask if he could someday love her. Laney was the one who’d made the mistake. She’d be the one to suffer for it.
Laney swallowed, feeling dizzy. She forced herself to say, “I have something to tell you.”
Kassius looked irritated, as if he assume
d she was going to say something he didn’t want to deal with. Like I love you.
“Look, Laney.” He clawed back his dark hair. “It’s been a long day. We’re leaving for New Orleans tomorrow, and then we have the wedding the day after. I’ve had enough. I’m going to bed.”
I’m going to bed. They hadn’t seen each other for four days, and he wanted to go to bed alone. It was the first time he hadn’t tried to touch her or lure her into bed with his wickedly seductive smile. Lure her to bed? He hadn’t even bothered to kiss her hello!
Why? Why? Did it have something to do with Mimi du Plessis? Ugly suspicion choked her, and sick brittle fear. But whatever secret he held from her, it was too late to turn back now. She’d been innocent and stupid and naive. She’d jumped into bed, into love. And it had all led to this.
But she had to do the right thing. Just because he was unable to love her didn’t give her the right to take away the one person he could love—their child.
“Wait,” she said hoarsely.
“Fine.” He looked at her wearily. “What do you want to tell me?”
She had tears in her eyes as she choked out the words that, just a few hours ago, had made her so happy. When she’d thought they had a future. When she hoped they were in love.
Looking at him with despair, she whispered, “I’m pregnant.”
CHAPTER SIX
THE PILOT’S VOICE came respectfully over the intercom. “We’ve begun our descent into New Orleans, sir.”
Finally. Rising to his feet, Kassius glanced across the plane’s cabin, where his bride-to-be was huddled on a white leather sofa, as far away from him as possible. If Laney could have climbed out onto the edge of the wing to get a little farther away, he thought drily, she would have.
At least her nausea seemed to have improved. She’d only spent maybe an hour in the jet’s bathroom. Other than that, in the hours since they’d left London, she’d been hunkered beneath that quilt, refusing to acknowledge his existence, though she managed to be friendly and polite to the flight attendant who brought her fresh water and saltine crackers.
