by Helen Lacey
“They’re different to us regular folk. They’re a unified front.”
Loyalty surged through her veins. “Because they’re a close family who care about one another?”
“Because they close ranks,” Yvette said bitterly. “You might be in favor now, but there will come a time where you’ll do something wrong and they will cast you out without a backward glance.”
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“I’ve been there.”
Loyalty turned into a fierce desire to protect. Not only Wyatt. All of them. Because the Harpers were good people who loved her daughter dearly. And Wyatt was the man she loved and she’d protect him with her dying breath. “You betrayed Wyatt. You betrayed his sister. What did you expect? Forgiveness?”
Yvette’s eyes shadowed over. “I expected exactly what I got—nothing. From Wyatt, from Jim...from all of them. And then Jim was dead and no one asked me how I felt. No one cared how I felt. I didn’t matter.”
“They lost a daughter,” Fiona said, stronger, more resilient. “They were grieving.”
“So was I. My engagement was broken. Wyatt didn’t—”
“That’s enough. You cheated, you got caught. And here’s some advice for you—when you agree to marry one man, you don’t have sex with someone else. You’re supposed to be in love with that person. And when you love someone—when you truly love someone—you don’t betray them. You give them your whole heart and take their whole heart in return. And you protect that heart with everything inside you.”
Yvette opened her mouth to speak and then clamped it shut. She looked over Fiona’s shoulder and gasped. Fiona spun around. Wyatt stood behind her, an odd look on his face.
And Fiona knew, without a doubt, that he’d heard everything, and she was completely and totally busted.
Chapter Fourteen
“Of course, my favorite part was when you were wiping the floor with what’s-her-name.”
Fiona was back in the guesthouse. Her lovely dress was hanging behind the bedroom door. And Cecily kept talking nonstop. Wyatt had driven them home once the dinner ended, and of course after Yvette’s none-too-discreet exit from the event. Oddly, Wyatt hadn’t said anything to her. He’d even danced with her a couple of times when the music had begun, Yvette and her own outburst seemingly forgotten.
Of course, the fact he hadn’t booked them into a hotel suite for the night made her think he was simply biding his time. She knew him well enough to suspect scenes weren’t his thing. No doubt an argument between his date and ex-fiancée wasn’t the picture of professionalism he expected from her.
She owed him an explanation.
And I have to tell him I could be pregnant.
In the drama of Yvette’s confrontation, she’d forgotten that little detail for about five seconds.
“You should scoot off to bed,” she told Cecily as she cleansed her face in the en suite bathroom and ignored her comment about Yvette. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“But you were amazing,” she said with a grin. “Just think, Uncle Wyatt almost married that awful woman.”
Fiona couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Well, he didn’t. Now, bed.”
Cecily didn’t budge. “So, are you Uncle Wyatt’s girlfriend now?”
It was a question she had no idea how to answer. She was going home tomorrow and didn’t know when she’d see Wyatt again. A long-distance relationship certainly wasn’t in her future. Considering the quiet way he’d said good-night to her a little over an hour earlier, she wasn’t sure he would be in her future at all.
“We’re friends.”
Cecily’s brows came up. “Friends don’t usually make out, though, do they?”
Her daughter smiled at her, and Fiona couldn’t help grinning. “No, I guess they don’t.”
Cecily laughed delightedly. “You were right—relationships are complicated. I’ll bet you and Uncle Wyatt can’t wait for me to start dating.” She shuffled off the bed and gave Fiona a long hug. “Maybe by then you guys will have worked your own love life out. ’Night, Ma.”
Ma. Fiona’s heart rolled over. When Cecily had asked if she could call her that sweet word, Fiona had almost burst into tears. It was more than she’d ever hoped for. Her daughter’s courage astounded her.
But how will she react if I have to tell her I’m pregnant?
It was a huge leap. She had no idea how her daughter would react, and it scared her. She didn’t want to lose the relationship they’d come to share.
Once Cecily had left, Fiona, in her nightgown, padded from the bedroom into the small kitchenette. She wanted tea and was filling the kettle when the French doors rattled.
She knew it would be Wyatt. He still wore his suit, but the tie was gone. Earlier that evening he’d said he had something to tell her. Add her passionate outburst, and she was certain they had plenty to discuss.
And then of course there’s the whole maybe-I’m-having-your-baby thing.
How would he react? He was an honorable man—would he want to do the honorable thing? In her heart she suspected he would. What then? Did she dare take whatever he offered, even if he didn’t mention love? Could she? She opened the screen. He walked inside and shut the door once he was in the room. He looked tense. His shoulders were unusually tight. Was he angry with her? Unsure, Fiona jumped in. “Wyatt, I’m so sorry about making a—”
“Shh,” he said, silencing her. “Be quiet. And come here.” It was a deliriously seductive command. One she couldn’t resist. She moved across the room and he drew her against him. “Now I can do what I’ve wanted to do all night.”
He kissed her deeply, drawing a response from her starved lips. Fiona’s arms curled over his shoulders and she melted. Oh, how she melted. No matter what her future held, she would always remember the deep tenderness of his kiss and the soft caress of his hands against her skin. No matter what. Jeepers...time to come clean.
“Wyatt, I have to tell you—”
“Later,” he said against her mouth. “Right now, I need you.”
Then have me, her heart sang. He needed her. Maybe that would be enough. He lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom. Wyatt got out of his clothes with lightning speed and she did the same. They made love quickly, using touch to transcend words, finding pleasure so powerful she felt it through to her very soul. Every touch, every kiss, spoke volumes. He moved over her and possessed her completely, and for those precious moments, they were one, unified by a mutual need. Afterward they held one another, and Fiona stroked his back, her body warm and glowing with a lovely lethargy.
“I thought you wanted to go slow?” she said once her breathing returned to normal and as she snuggled into him.
“Clearly I think too much.”
She grinned and pressed a kiss against his throat. “Sometimes. So, what are you thinking now?” she asked huskily and curved her fingers over his hip and then lower still.
He grabbed her hand and laughed as he rolled her over onto her back. “That I’m going to kiss you again.”
“I thought you might be angry with me.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “For what?”
“Making a scene tonight. Embarrassing you. Not minding my own business—take your pick.”
He reached up and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Cecily told me what happened. I know Yvette can be confrontational.”
Fiona sighed. “I feel a little sorry for her. I mean, I know she did something really terrible, but maybe she genuinely did care for Jim?”
“Maybe,” he said vaguely.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t interfere. And I apologize for reacting to her insults. I should have walked away.”
He stared down into her face. “Promise me something—never change who y
ou are.”
Her throat closed over. Tell him now about the maybe baby. Only, she didn’t want to break the tender moment. She didn’t want the feeling to end. He’d said he needed her, now...tonight. A few hours won’t make any difference. I’ll tell him in the morning.
“I promise,” she whispered and kissed him with every ounce of love in her heart.
* * *
Wyatt woke up alone. He heard Fiona moving around the guesthouse, making coffee if his nose were any judge. It was still early. A sliver of dawn light cut through the space between the curtains. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling. He felt oddly at peace. Happy.
Watching her go into battle in his defense had been one of those moments in his life when the full impact of the situation had hit him with the force of a freight train.
And he knew what he wanted.
Fiona.
Time suddenly wasn’t an issue. He wanted to jump, and jump fast. Seeing her go into battle for him had made it all so clear. Fiona was nothing like Yvette. She was strong and proud and honest to the bone.
Suddenly, nothing else mattered but making her his own.
He got up and pulled on the trousers she’d laid on the end of the bed and wrestled into his shirt, not bothering with the buttons. There was a bag on the floor, half-packed, and he remembered she was leaving today. He certainly didn’t want her to go. But if she did, they’d try a long-distance relationship for a while. He’d do whatever he had to.
Wyatt found her in the living room, on the sofa, a steaming mug in her hand. In her satin nightgown, she looked sleepy and tousled. Adorable. He wanted to drag her back into bed and make love to her all over again. “’Morning,” he said easily.
She offered a tight smile. “Hi.”
“Have you been up long?”
She nodded, suddenly grave. “We really need to talk.”
“Sure.” Wyatt stood behind the sofa and tried to ignore the rapidness of his heartbeat.
He noticed her hand shake as she placed the mug on the coffee table. She drew in a long breath and looked as if she had something serious to tell him. “I’m late.”
Late? He almost stupidly said, For what?
“Late?”
“Late,” she said again, solemn. “And I’m never late.”
He took about two seconds to figure out what she meant and asked her straight out, “You’re pregnant?”
She gave a little shrug. “I might be. I’m about five days overdue.”
Two things struck Wyatt simultaneously. First, a gut-wrenching shock and then a kind of unbelievable elation, which sent his head spinning into some far-off stratosphere. Pregnant? A baby? His baby? “When will you know for sure?”
“Um, today, I guess. I could do one of those home tests.”
“Then let’s go and buy one.”
Fiona glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s not seven o’clock. Nothing will be open yet.”
She had a point. There were no all-night pharmacies within a twenty-mile radius. “We’ll wait until the stores open.”
She nodded and he watched as she twisted her hands together. She said his name softly. “I didn’t do this deliberately.”
He knew that. “It takes two people to make a baby. I’m not about to accuse you of anything.”
Her mouth creased. “I wanted to tell you last night.”
Wyatt shrugged. He wasn’t about to get hung up on six hours. “It’s okay, Fiona. In my eagerness to make love to you, I didn’t exactly give you a chance to tell me anything.”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “You’re not angry?”
Wyatt shook his head. “Why would I be?” he asked, then realized what he’d thought was tension holding her shoulders so tight was, in fact, raw emotion. Emotion she was hanging on to by a thread. “Fiona, why would you think that?”
She looked up, all eyes, all feeling. “Because this is such...such a disaster.”
A disaster? “Since when is a baby a—”
“Since I have no idea how I’m supposed to tell my daughter,” she said and cut him off. “Since I’ve tried so hard to take this giant leap forward with Cecily and now I have to explain that, if I am pregnant, I have every intention of keeping this baby. How do I tell her that, Wyatt? How do I tell her I want this baby...when I didn’t...when I gave her up?”
He rocked back on his bare heels. Complicated just jumped off the Richter scale. “She’ll understand.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know Cecily. And this situation is hardly the same as when you were fifteen. For one, I’m not—”
“But what if she thinks I love this child more?” she shot back and looked at him through eyes shimmering with tears. “And what if she’s right? What if I do love this baby in ways I haven’t yet—”
“Fiona,” Wyatt said as he charged around the sofa and sat down. “Cecily knows how you feel about her. You’re imagining the worst without good reason.”
“But you don’t know...” She shook through a ragged breath and he folded her hands within his. “You don’t know how hard I’ve tried to be her mother. How much I want to be her mother. How much I want her to know she’s the most important thing in the world to me.”
“I do know,” he said gently and felt her tears right through to his soul. “You’ve been incredible with her. You are incredible with her.” Wyatt touched her face and wiped away her tears. “She needs you in her life. Permanently. The truth is I’m not cut out to be a single parent, Fiona. And for the first time in eighteen months, I feel like I’m not alone in this.”
She stilled. “What are you saying?”
He went for it. Feetfirst. Jumping when he’d thought he’d never want to jump again. “Marry me, Fiona?”
Stillness turned into stone. She looked shocked. Even appalled. “I...can’t... I couldn’t do that.”
Can’t. Couldn’t. Not exactly the response he’d hoped for. “You can,” he insisted.
She shook her head. “I won’t marry someone because I’m pregnant.”
Someone? As if he was no one in particular. He didn’t like that statement one bit.
“You’re pregnant?”
He knew that voice. Cecily! They both turned toward the door. His niece stood beneath the threshold, one hand still on the doorknob. Fiona spoke. “Cecily, I—”
“You’re really pregnant?”
“We’re not sure,” Wyatt said quietly. “But when we do know, we’ll make sure you hear about it first.”
Fiona moved away from him and stood. “I’m sorry, Cecily. I know you must be disappointed in me.”
She said the words with such a heavy heart that all Wyatt wanted to do was haul her into his arms and kiss some sense into her. Cecily, bless her, didn’t seem the least bit let down.
“I’m not disappointed,” his niece said and chuckled. “Although...I might be if you turn down Uncle Wyatt’s proposal. You guys should get married—then we could be a real family.”
Thanks, kid. At least someone was in his corner. “Cecily,” Wyatt said as he got to his feet. “Would you leave us alone for a minute?”
“Sure,” she replied. “Take all the time you need.” She looked at Fiona and grinned before she headed back through the door.
Once he was sure she’d gone, Wyatt spoke. “See, no problem.”
Fiona glared at him. “I’m not going to put my daughter in the middle of this.”
“She is in the middle of it, Fiona.” He took a couple of steps and reached for her, taking her hand within his. “She’s right here, part of this, part of us.”
Fiona shook her head. “People don’t get married because of pregnancy these days. I won’t trap you.”
“I’d hardly call this a trap.”
S
he pulled away and stood, pushing her hair from her face. “You know, you’re just about the most honorable man I’ve ever met. And because you have so much integrity, it would be wrong of me to take advantage of you like that. Because I have integrity, too, Wyatt. If I am pregnant, we’ll discuss access and all the things that need to happen when two people have a child together. Until we know for sure, there’s nothing else to say.”
Her rejection stung like a slap to the face. He tried another tactic. “What about Cecily? You heard her...she wants this.”
She stared at him, all eyes. “I explained the situation as best I—”
“If you won’t marry me for our child,” he said deliberately, as annoyance settled behind his ribs, “then marry me for your child.”
“What?”
“Give Cecily what she wants. Two parents, together...add in a baby brother or sister and she’ll be over the moon.” He jumped up. “You know it’s what she wants to happen. You can give it to her. You could be with her every day. You won’t have to leave this afternoon. You gave her up once. You handed her over to strangers and missed out on the first fourteen years of her life. Well, here’s your chance to be a part of the rest of it.”
She looked so wounded Wyatt wanted to snatch the words back. Hurting Fiona wasn’t on his agenda. And he was hurting her now. But damn it, she was hurting him, too.
“No. And now I’d like to be alone for a while,” she said quietly.
“Fiona, when two people have feelings for—”
“Exactly,” she snapped. “When two people have feelings. Not one person. I think it’s fairly obvious that any feelings here are all on one side. Now please leave me alone.”
He saw her chin go up, defiant, angry and wounded at the same time. One-sided feelings? What did that mean? That she didn’t care? He could have sworn she did. Despite the uncharacteristic coldness in her voice, he pressed on. “You know I’m right about getting married.”
“All I know is that my mother married Eddie Walsh because she was pregnant. And I don’t want to be that kind of woman.”
