by Dana Nussio
“We should get married.”
Her neck jerked back as if he’d struck her with more than a suggestion.
“What?” She blinked several times and shook her head. “Are you out of your mind?”
That he’d spoken it aloud had surprised him, too, but the idea had been shaping in his mind since she’d informed him about the pregnancy. It was the practical solution. The right thing to do.
He usually kept all his decisions these days to himself until they were fully formed. He overthought details to the point of tedium, too: hard lessons learned during his relationship with his gold-digging ex-fiancée. So, his one-night stand with Tatiana Davison had been his exception rather than his new rule of weighing all information before acting. What did it say about him that the one night he’d felt most himself in seven years had ended in an accidental pregnancy?
“Don’t be so quick to answer—”
She swiped both hands through the air. “That’s a terrible idea. I thought you wanted to keep Colton Plastics out of the news?”
A little late for that. Had she missed all those media types milling around in the parking lot? There was no way the company wouldn’t be mentioned or pictured as a backdrop to headline stories, even if they never gave a public statement or confirmed any speculation about her father.
“It’s a practical decision. I’m not talking about abiding love or some other nonsense. This is for...” He lowered his gaze to her stomach.
She stalked forward again, spun around, and repeated her steps. “And this is the twenty-first century, not the nineteenth. Just because a gal is knocked up, that doesn’t mean she has to toss on a veil for her shotgun wedding.”
“I know that, but—”
“No one knows yet that it’s a Colton baby. There won’t be an article on ‘Baby Makes Three for Colton and Serial Killer’s Daughter’ if we stay quiet. No one will ask if the law-and-order Colton family has crossed to the dark side.”
She appeared to consider for a few seconds and then nodded. “I’ll say I had in vitro. Plenty of women choose that when they want a child and don’t want to deal with the guy who’s contributing half of the DNA.”
“You have both the baby and the sperm donor.”
“And I remember you saying you were a confirmed bachelor.” She stopped again and planted her hands on her hips. “No marriage or family for you. No way.”
She also must have recalled when and where he’d shared those personal details as her cheeks were suddenly stained pink.
“The situation is different now.”
Tatiana didn’t answer. Apparently, she couldn’t argue with that, given the positive test in her purse and the news crews standing between her and her rental car.
“We don’t have to make everything worse than it is by adding a marriage of convenience to the mix.”
Travis had only said no love. He wisely hadn’t mentioned convenience, though it would be helpful to the union that they’d already proven they were sexually compatible. A couple of times, in fact.
“If we get married, then I’ll be able to watch over you both.”
“I told you, we don’t need anyone.”
“You said it yourself. Your baby is a Colton. At least half a Colton. I’d really like to protect him or her. If you’ll let me.”
She opened her mouth as if to argue and then closed it again, so he pushed his advantage before she produced another point.
“Look, you saw out there.” He pointed to the window. “As long as your dad is in hiding, they’ll never leave you alone. Maybe not even after he is located. Then you’ll have to live through a trial. You’ll be caring for a child on your own, and there’s always going to be someone waiting outside your apartment window with a camera. You’ll have to hire a bodyguard like my brother Stanton, just to keep your family safe.”
“Could you make this sound any worse?” She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “I get what you’re saying. But almost everything about my life is out of my control, and my choice about marriage is sacred. It’s supposed to be for life. No matter what else we discover about Dad, he and Mom had a marriage like that. The real thing. At least, it looked like that to me.”
“Some people are just lucky.”
Her gaze flicked to his. Travis needed to stop saying ridiculous things around her, but he couldn’t help himself when she’d looked so sad. Her mother hadn’t been lucky to lose her battle with cancer. More than that, if the woman had been blessed at all, it would be because she was blissfully unaware that her husband was a murderer.
“You might call abiding love ‘nonsense,’ but I don’t think it is. I know what it looks like. At least I thought I knew.” Though her eyes became shiny, she lifted her chin. “I’ll never marry without that forever kind of love. On both sides.”
Travis was more curious than he should have been about her parents’ story, but he couldn’t ask her when they had more critical matters to settle. He held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. I get it. Forget my proposal, but I still don’t like the idea of you being alone. You have the police and the media out there. Not to mention, what happens if your dad shows up and expects you to hide him?”
Her shoulders lifted. “I hadn’t considered that.”
“Well, you should.” Like before, he pushed forward while he had the chance. “I think you should stay at my place.”
She shook her head. “You’re full of bad ideas today.”
“I know it’s not the best solution, but it’s not the worst one, either. You said you were keeping a room in an extended-stay hotel until you found an apartment. My condo is huge. It’s a connected walkout ranch, with three bedrooms upstairs and a whole other suite on the lower level. You’d have your own floor.”
“It’s kind of you to offer. Really. But I still don’t think—”
“We wouldn’t have to tell anyone about the baby. At least not for a while.”
“That part we can agree on, but as for staying there...” She shook her head.
“Let me do this for you, Ana.”
Only when her eyes widened did he realize he’d called her by the name he’d used with her just once before. During a moment when neither had been dressed for the office or anywhere else. And one when they were in the process of creating a new life.
The answer was on her lips, the same one they both should have given when they’d considered whether to open another bottle of wine that night six weeks before.
“Then let me do this for our child,” he rushed to add. “You’re both going to need protection.”
He wasn’t playing fair, but she’d left him no choice. She faced the window once more and stared down at the frenzy taking place below. She had to be ruling out the lesser of evils, and he hoped he would make the cut.
“I guess that would work for a while. I would expect you to hold up your end of the agreement to keep our relationship strictly professional.” Then she turned and met his gaze. “And don’t call me that again. Ever.”
She strode from the conference room without looking back.
The instinct to chase out after her pulsed through him, just as it had when she’d left the police interview. What would he do? Try to toss her over his shoulder like a modern-day Cro-Magnon, so he could take her back to his cave? He held onto the arms of his seat until the impulse passed and then leaned his elbows on his knees and lowered his head into his splayed hands.
What was wrong with him?
Tatiana hadn’t asked for his help, so this overwhelming surge of protectiveness he felt for her and their baby made no sense. He couldn’t even use the pregnancy as an excuse. Before she’d told him the news, he’d wanted to shield her from the media, her father and even his own family members.
This was worse. He longed to envelop her and the baby in safety. Just the thought of it made
him grin. As if she would ever allow any of that. She was a strong, independent woman. But, for the moment, anyway, he’d won. She would be safe with him at his condo, which offered a good security system, and the neighborhood watch committee was always on volunteer duty.
However, her staying at his place presented a whole new set of problems. They’d just determined that their affair had been a one-off, and now they would be roommates? How was he supposed to even sleep, knowing she was in bed a floor away with that mass of silky hair draped all over the pillow and her amazing legs beneath the blankets? Moving her in with him would do just the opposite of cooling his desire for her, just as it would flame rather than extinguish speculation that they were involved or, later, that the child could be his. And what was he supposed to tell his relatives when they found out he was housing a fugitive’s daughter?
As he’d told her, it wasn’t a perfect solution, but at least she’d be close by, where he could watch out for her. It would also give him more time to convince her that he was right that they should marry. But why was he pushing so hard for this? Instead of running away like some guys did when they learned that the fun and games had made them fathers, he was chasing after a woman he barely knew with a ring she didn’t want. He wished he could believe it was only because he loved a challenge. The search for the best deal or a superior product was the nature of his life’s work. So why did he suspect that he might have proposed this “marriage of convenience” for his own sake as much as the child’s or even Tatiana’s?
* * *
“This isn’t exactly how I planned to move into my new place,” Tatiana called into the void of Travis’s condo after work that evening.
He’d vanished down one of the shiny hardwood hallways after he’d let her inside, leaving her standing in the entry under a crystal chandelier that cast geometric patterns of light onto the weave of a Persian rug. She pulled the collar of her long down coat closer around her neck and waited, snow from her warm winter boots melting on the mat. It gave her too much time to think and second-guess.
Why had Travis been so determined that she should stay with him? Worse than that, why had she agreed? She’d been off her game since taking the test and learning about the charges her dad faced, but that was still no excuse. She barely knew Travis. At least he’d dropped that marriage nonsense. At first, she’d thought it might have been a joke, or maybe a knee-jerk reaction to the news about the baby, but had it been more than that? Had he been trying to help his family lure her and her father into a police trap?
“You probably thought you’d have more luggage.”
She startled as Travis followed his words into the room. At least she hadn’t been talking to herself out loud.
“What are you saying?”
He pointed to her purse, computer bag and dress boots, the only items she’d had the chance to bring with her.
“I never expected to have to sneak out the service entrance and escape in the back of a corporate cargo van, either.” She stepped out of her boots and set them next to the door, then removed her parka. “Has Miles Kettering ever driven passengers before, or has it only been Colton Plastics products that he delivers in that van?”
“I doubt it.”
“You could have mentioned that before I got in. I get carsick in the back seat. That’s when I’m not pregnant.”
“Sorry about that. And forgive my manners.” He took her coat and hung it in the closet near the front door. “I guess you could have stopped and held an impromptu press conference instead.”
She responded to his grin with a frown. “That’s okay. I’ve had enough drama for one day, thank you.”
Just the thought of having to stand in front of all those cameras, the microphones jammed in her face, made her woozy again, but she didn’t tell him that. She wouldn’t be able to hide from the media forever, though. Another meeting with the police would be necessary, too, so she was grateful for the reprieve.
She stretched her neck from side to side. Even if by afternoon she’d finally been able to focus on first-day tasks at work, she’d never once relaxed, always sensing that an ambush was coming. Now she had tight shoulders and a headache from the strain, along with new restrictions about what over-the-counter medications she could use.
“Want the grand tour?” he asked.
“I guess so.”
“Now don’t get too excited about it.” He stepped backward into the great room, extending his hands, palms up, like an official tour guide. “We’re walking. We’re walking.”
She followed in her bare feet, regretting her decision to skip tights that morning.
“Wow, you weren’t lying when you said your condo was huge,” she said as she took in the vaulted ceilings and walls of windows.
What he hadn’t mentioned was how nice it was. Decorating-magazine nice if the magazine had been published a few decades back. The luxurious sectional would swallow a youth baseball team, but from the look of it, no sticky little hands had ever smudged its buff color. Same for the massive television on the wall and the elaborate wood tables and lamps. No children would ever be allowed to touch the pricey bric-a-brac methodically arranged around the room. Including theirs.
“I don’t lie,” he said.
She twisted and pretended to study a bowl filled with blown-glass balls. They both knew Travis had fibbed to the police for her just that morning. She’d repeated a lie as well about not speaking with her dad, but he couldn’t know that.
“You can still change your mind about having me stay here,” she said, brushing her fingertips over the bumpy surface of the glass.
“I won’t.”
“Because it will create a lot of speculation about, well, us, when there isn’t an us.”
“I said I won’t. There’s no rush for you to find your own place. Until things settle down around here...”
“Fine.” Tatiana was more relieved than she would have expected.
He led her through the kitchen, with its granite countertops and dark wood cabinets too tall for an average human to reach, and then down the hall. He stopped at each bedroom and the bath. The master suite was more of the same but with meticulously arranged clothes and shoes in the walk-in closet. All were perfectly decorated, yet sterile. As if no one lived in the house.
“Is this where you disappeared to when you deserted me earlier?”
“Needed to change out of my work clothes,” he said with a shrug. “I wish you could, too.”
For the first time, Tatiana noticed that he’d traded the white pinpoint-collared shirt and dark tailored trousers for a pair of crisp khaki pants and another dress shirt, this one in light blue.
“This is you dressed down?” She pointed to his sleeves that he’d rolled to the elbows.
“Yeah.” He lowered his gaze from shirt to pants to brown wing tips. “Why?”
Even as rough as the day had been, she couldn’t help but to smile. Sure, she’d seen Travis Colton impeccably dressed for the office—and then in nothing at all—but she had no idea what he looked like in his regular life. That he was always so buttoned up surprised her. He’d been right earlier. They really didn’t know each other well.
“Never mind,” she said. “Just don’t be shocked when you see my sweatpants later. Speaking of clothing, I still need to stop by the extended stay to get mine.”
“I’ll drive you there after dinner. Then we can pick up your car and drop it off at the rental agency while it’s still dark. That is, if you’re not too tired.”
“That’ll be fine,” she said automatically. She didn’t want to admit that she could have fallen asleep standing right in front of him.
He gestured for her to pass by him into the mammoth master bath, which contained a jetted tub, expansive counter with double sinks, glass-walled shower and private toilet.
“Now you’ve set my expectations too high.” She back
ed out of the space that, despite its size, felt too small and intimate for them to share. “The lower level probably has concrete floors and a washtub sink to soak my laundry.”
“Hardly.”
Travis finished off showing her the upper level and then headed downstairs, opening a door and flipping the light switch when he reached the landing.
Another TV viewing area greeted them, less formal than the one upstairs. Down the hall, Travis showed off another sumptuous bedroom suite and bath, plus a fully equipped home office.
“Where’s the laundry tub?” Tatiana asked when the tour ended.
“I could install one if you like.”
She smiled. “I’ll see if I can get by without it.”
As they returned upstairs, he spoke over his shoulder. “Will it do for your temporary lodging?”
“I guess it’ll pass.” In the great room, she glanced around again, more curious than she cared to admit. “Did you decorate it yourself, or did you hire a professional?”
Why didn’t she come out and ask if his girlfriend had selected the furniture and décor? Or more than that, if he had a significant other whom he might ask to make those choices for him? His private life wasn’t her business, though, even if she was carrying his child. He waited until they were upstairs to answer. “Professional. My sister, Melissa, recommended that I hire one when she stopped by six months after I moved in. She noticed my abundance of unopened boxes. And lack of furniture. I’d been putting most of my energy into growing Colton Plastics, so I wasn’t home much.”
“Looks like your work at CP paid off if you can afford a place like this.”
He slowly scanned the room as if trying to see it through her eyes.
“It’s a little fancy for me,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe I should have been more involved with the process, but at least it’s finished. I usually spend most of my time downstairs, anyway. It feels less like a mausoleum.”
Tatiana followed him into the kitchen, still considering what he’d said. Why did he choose to live in a house that was so sterile, anyway? She wanted to believe it was an outward display of the cold man he was inside, one so incapable of being truly intimate with someone that he’d nearly sprinted from her bed. Only that dark view of him didn’t fit with his actions since that morning. Instead of running away when she’d told him she was pregnant, he’d proposed and given her space in his home after she refused. Not any place, either, but the only part of it where he felt comfortable. Was there a chance that she might be wrong about him?
