Chapter 4
Her nerves were jangling on the surface, and she could not sit still. She had called him as soon as she returned home and he had sounded brusque, which had made her feeling even more nervous, if that was at all possible.
So, she used the time to shower and change and was wearing a voluminous velvet robe over an old t-shirt. She didn’t want to give anything away until it was time.
Taking a deep breath as soon as the car headlights swept over the windows, she opened the door and waited until he strode onto the porch. He had changed too and had on jeans and a thin black sweater.
His scarred leather jacket was open and gave him a dangerous and virile and masculine. His thick dark hair was loose, and wind swept as if he had driven with the windows open.
“Are you going to let me in?” He asked, brows lifted.
“Of course...” Stepping back, she allowed him to move past her before closing the door.
They did not speak as she led the way into the cozy living room.
“Where is the boyfriend?”
“Home, I suppose.” She turned to face him. “And that…, that woman?”
He almost smiled at her prim tone. Almost. “Home, I presume.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his blue eyes washed over her like lasers. “What’s different about you?”
“My hair.” She murmured swiftly, lifting a hand to it. “I straightened it.”
“I see.” There was still a puzzled look on his face as if he was trying to find out what was new about her.
“And yours need cutting. As usual.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“How is she?”
“Still a classic Madelyn. She asked about you.”
Her tapered brows lifted. “Really? I would have thought I would be the last person she would be thinking about, let alone enquiring about. Would you like something to drink? I think I have some whiskey…”
“Why am I here?”
“Uhm, we should sit.”
“I don’t want to and you are prevaricating. What is it?” His eyes flared. “If it’s to tell me you’re marrying that prick…”
“No.” She shook her head and decided that she was too weak to stand. “I just want you to bear in mind that I never planned this. That I listened to you and accepted or tried to accept your decision.”
A frown touched his brow. “Planned what?”
Her fingers interlaced, and she stared at them for a few seconds before looking at him. She was trying to convince herself that when he heard the news, he would take it well. He would be in shock of course, but that was to be expected, but eventually, he would be happy.
You didn’t use anything. That time when were in the kitchen, we just couldn’t wait and we- you- we made love without any protection. So, I didn’t plan it. I just want to make that clear.”
“What are you…?” Then it hit him with such force that it sent him staggering back as if hit by a boulder and his blue eyes tracked over her face and he realized why she looked different. And she did. Her cheeks were rounder, nose a little larger and not to mention her breasts.
“Good Christ!” He whispered. “Good bloody Christ! You’re pregnant?”
She swallowed the lump that had formed and lodged somewhere inside her throat. “Yes.”
Getting to her feet, she untied the string under her breast and took off the robe. She had not bothered to put anything on except the old t-shirt and her nipples, which had grown more rounded, stood out against the material prominently.
In spite of the situation, he found himself hardening and then his eyes fell to her stomach and the evidence was there and it was glaring.
Wheeling around, he strode to the window to stare out at the encroaching darkness. When he received the call from her, something had shattered inside him, giving him hope. Hope that she has changed her mind about them.
Seeing her at the opera, had been disturbing and he had simply dropped Minerva off at her place and gone to his own place to mope and curse fate for doing this to him. Her call had him running to her as always.
“Please say something.” Her sultry voice cut through his musings.
“I confided in you.” He was trying his best to tamp down the rage fighting with the shock. “I never did that before. I told you the horrors I went through with my old man and why I never wanted to be a dad.” He whipped around to stare at her and wished to God she would put that bloody robe back on. His body was betraying him.
All he wanted to do was to whip the shirt off her and drive himself deep inside her and never come back out. Damn her to bloody hell! “It’s on me.’ He added bitterly, the anger boiling into fury. “I let my guard down with you, something I never did in the past. I broke my own bloody rule with you, by not using anything that one time…”
“Twice.”
“What?”
“That time at the restaurant in the parking lot too. We…, it started inside and we…,”
“Yes.” He clipped, the memories assailing him. The foreplay had started when he started feeding her from his plate. She had placed a hand on his thigh and worked her way up to his…, he shook his head angrily. “Now we’re facing the consequences.” His eyes flared as if something occurred to him. “How far along?”
“Almost four months.” She felt a quiver of fear at the murderous look on his handsome face.
“You are only just telling me now because there is nothing I can do about it. You kept this from me and…,” he turned back to the window and tried to tamp down his temper. He wanted to hit something. “Why now, I wonder?” He asked carefully, his voice icy. “What do you hope to accomplish?”
“I want you to try and be happy about….”
She stumbled back as he whipped around. “Happy? And then what? Do we get married and build a home, a family? Is that the plan?”
“Something like that.” She tried to smile but failed dismally.
“All three of us.” He saw the expression on her face. “What?”
Placing a hand over her bump, she took a deep breath. “It’s four.”
“Four what?”
“I’m having twins.”
Shock rippled across his face and at first he could just stare at her. “Twins?” He croaked. “Not one, but two. Where – How? It has to be genetics…!” he stopped as something clocked inside him. He had heard whispers about a twin brother his father had and was never talked about.
“Jesus!” Leaning back against the wall, he closed his eyes. When he opened them, she was standing right in front of him. He stood there silently and let her take his hand, not reacting until she lifted the shirt and placed his hand on her belly. It was warm, the heat seeping through his fingers and spreading throughout his body.
Desire swept like a raging storm through him and had him going weak, that was until he felt the stirring of movements against his hand. His eyes flew to hers and she smiled at the expression on his face.
“Those are the lives we created.” She used her hand to press his down more on her flesh. “Feel them, Bobby.” She only called him that when in the throes of her climax and it stirred him deeply.
“We can make this work. We can be a family.” Her voice had turned pleading. “I really need you. We really need you. I need support. I cannot…” She stuttered to a stop when he snatched his hand away and backed up.
“That’s very good,” he laughed humorlessly and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You almost got me there. Congrats.” His expression hardened. “I’m not daddy material and being in those…,” he gestured to her belly. “Being in their lives would only screw them up. I am talking from experience.
“I will have the lawyers contact you in terms of financial support.” His expression turned bleak. “I am really sorry about this Janelle. I know you are going to think I’m shirking my responsibilities, but that’s the way it has to be.” He turned and walked out of the room.
For a second, she was immobilized and then she ran. She caught him at the door and before he could open it, she gripped his arm and spun him around. “Don’t do this.” Her fingers were digging into his jacket.
“I know you have been through a lot with your dad, but if you leave, you are making him win. Harry, Bobby – I love you. Please don’t leave. I will help you to work through this. I really need you…”
“Stop!” Dragging his arm away, he leaned against the door. “I am sorry, Janelle, but I cannot do this. Why the hell did you have to spoil things?”
His laser eyes swept over her face and touched on each feature, lingering on the parted lips, before moving down to her bosom. Desire speared through him, leaving him weak. Before he could give into the monstrous desire, he wrenched the door open and ran to the car.
Janelle stood there in the open doorway, oblivious of the freezing air whipping through the shirt and watched as he peeled out of the driveway.
Closing the door, she leaned against it and slid all the way down until she hit the floor. Only then did she allow the tears to come.
*****
He drove ruthlessly, carelessly, as if daring a traffic cop to pull him over. He wove in and out of traffic and pressed the accelerator hard as he tried to block out the shattered look on her lovely face. He had put it there. There were instances, a few pockets of sanity that almost made him turn and go back to her.
Take her in his arms, make love to her and assure her that he would be there for her and those – those – Good God! Twins! He whipped the vehicle around an SUV, ignoring the angry blaring of horns.
It was bloody late. Almost eleven at night. People should be in their bloody homes, sleeping or making love to their partners. Instead, the road was packed and heavy with traffic and he was steamed.
He was surprised the heat wasn’t coming out of his ears. How dare she do this to him? He slammed his hand on the steering wheel as he slowed down- barely for the light. He had told her specifically – had bared his bloody soul to her, hadn’t he? Had told her of the horrors of living with a man who humiliated and verbally abused him for sport.
He had confided in her because she was different. He never expected her to be, and it had sucker punched him that she did. The attraction had been instantaneous and even, so it had taken him by surprise, grabbed him by the throat when he realized that it was not just sex.
But good Christ, the sex was mind blowing. He had sensed from the very beginning that she was not really experienced and her shyness, her hesitancy, her shock when he brought her to a shattering climax had wrung a groan from him.
It had been her first and it had humbled him. She told him that there had been just two men, and he had laughed in shock. But when she told him about her parents and how devasted their deaths had been to her, he understood.
Turning onto the private road, he stopped as soon as he reached the garage and killed the engine. His mother would be asleep of course. She had been out with some friends and called to check on him. If he hadn’t agreed to go to the opera with Minerva, he wouldn’t have seen her.
And if he had not seen her, she would not have felt the urge to tell him about the pregnancy. And he would continue to live his bloody life as he had been doing. Missing her, craving her delectable body.
Shoving out of the car, he made his swift way towards the pool house. Shep would be waiting up for him. The old boy never goes to sleep until he is back. But he couldn’t deal with the animal now. He wanted some alone time. He had to think.
Changing directions, he headed towards the wooded area, not noticing the way the light of the moon made everything silver, an ethereal glow on the abundance of flowers and the graceful curve of the trees that were so lovingly tended by the host of gardeners his mother employed.
He did not hear the rush of water from the lake as he crossed the small bridge. The brilliance of the star-studded velvet sky was lost on him as was the biting coldness of the wind racing through the leaves of the trees.
He walked swiftly, taking the path that led to his favorite spot. An old well that came with the property. He had built a bench there and this was where he would come in the past when things got too much at the house.
He had taken her here in the summer. Persuaded Mrs. Harriet, the housekeeper to pack a picnic basket and make an adventure out of it. She had been delighted, he recalled her laughter as he plucked grapes and fed her with them.
He had told her things he never told a soul and knew it would stay right there between them. The whipping he received from his old man when he accidentally broke a priceless vase. The shouts, the taunts and the humiliation.
Lowering himself onto the padded seat which was slightly wet from the moisture in the air, he stared at the well in front of him. It had been drained of water and he sometimes wondered if that was not the case, if he would have been tempted to end his life. A miserable life it had been for the better part of it.
Living in a cold stone building with a man who was never pleased with anything he did, anything his mother did. And the resentment towards her had been built over the years.
It was not until he died, that she told him why she stayed. He had threatened her – warned her that if she even contemplated leaving, she would never see her son, never see him again.
So, she had stayed and suffered through years of verbal abuse, years of her husband cheating on her- throwing women in her face, torturing her as only the bastard knew how to. And he came from that. His father was Irish and so was he. He had a bloody temper, and it showed in more ways than one.
Granted, he had never hit a woman, but his father had never physically hurt his wife either. He didn’t have to. When words could do so much damage. Leaning back, he closed his eyes briefly. He had done the same thing to Janelle.
Hurt her with his words. Turned away from her when she told him she needed him. Had not even inquired about her health. Goes to show that the fricking apple does not fall too far from the bloody tree. He was his father all over again and that is why he did not want children.
He knew the sufferings an adult could place on a helpless child, and he never wanted a child of his to suffer through what his old man had put him through. He had been sent to a private school and there he had raised hell.
He had taken his frustration, acted out by smoking, drinking, whoring and Christ knew there had been girls who had been willing to accommodate him. But one thing had been clear to him growing up. The resolve was - never to have kids.
And she had ruined that for him. She was the first woman he had ever asked to move in with him.
“You should feel flattered.” He had half joked. “This never happened before. I do believe you have put a spell on me.”
“That’s it then. I am a witch and I tipped some mind-altering drug into your whiskey when you turned your back.”
“Mind altering is what it is.” He growled. “Why else would I be willing to share my space with another human being. I always thought that Shep would be enough. Now, here I am persuading you for what?
An hour to move in with me? And you are not budging. Do you know how humiliating that is? I am accustomed to women falling all over themselves to please me.”
“And that is the problem right there. You are too used to getting your own way. I am not that kind of woman. I am not going to put up with your selfish ways. That is why I am hesitating.” He had stopped joking after that and pulled her into his arms.
“I will not hurt you or I will try my best not to. The fact is, I am in love for the first time in my bloody life and it scares the shit out of me. I feel vulnerable.
Be proud that you are the only one that has ever broken through the steel gate I put over my heart. I do not know how you did I and I ‘m going to have to dig deeper to find out if you’re really a witch after all.”
“I just might be. But it so happens that I love you too.”
A feral growl escaped him as memories coursed through his brain. He could hear her voice as clearly as if she were sitting right next to him. The sound and timber of her sultry voice, her soft laughter.
He could see the sparkle in her chestnut brown eyes, the curve of those delicious lips he had never been able to get enough of. The shape of her body. And that reminded him of the shape of it now.
The changes in her. He could still feel the warmth of her belly on his fingers. The jolt he felt when she pressed his hand against her flesh.
“Damn you!” He whispered, his throat thick with despair. “Damn you for doing this to me.”
*****
She finally dragged herself upstairs to bed after drinking enough tea to sink a ship. She was sick after he left, the meal she had consumed at the restaurant, revolting, and coming back up.
She barely had time to make it to the powder room before she was retching. Until all that was left were the dry heaves that made her stomach hurt. And she had crawled back into the kitchen to make a pot of tea.
The tears were still there, and she wanted to hate him for bringing her to this. But some part of her still yearned for him and if he had burst through the door, she would have forgiven him instantly.
She had always been strong. Her parents had instilled that strength in her. She had been an only child to an older couple. Her mother had been forty and her dad had been five years older.
They had given up hope of ever having children and had resigned themselves to being childless when she came along, and they had lavished her with love but had stopped short of spoiling her.
She was brought up in church and taught to love and honor the Lord. They had lavished her with attention. They had both been teachers. Her mother had taught at a local high school and her dad had been a professor at a community college. They loved to read - had taken her on travels whenever they were on break.
They would do impulsive things, like packing a bag on weekends and just driving somewhere. She loved that. They had been faintly amused and amazed by her vivacious personality, her ability to make friends and how natural she was at being a leader.
And they had instilled in her confidence that had been unshaken until she lost them. But what she always remembered was the love they had showered her with and because of that, she knew she would one day make an exceptionally good mother.
But with Harry, it had been the exact opposite. He did not come from a loving home. Which made it almost impossible for him to love anyone or to accept that he was loved. She had seen that in him from the very beginning, but it had not stopped her from hoping that her love would change him.
Crawling between the sheets, her limbs shaking, she had to acknowledge that she had been a fool to hope.