Chapter 18
18
Atlas
I left Rowan in the bath and stalked downstairs, ignoring the hard-on in my pants and the salty-sweet taste of her on my tongue, the words she’d said ricocheting around in my skull.
‘You didn’t wear a condom.’
Her eyes had been wide, shock written all over her lovely face as she’d sat there on top of my black marble vanity, white silk cascading over the edge of it. And fuck, I’d felt a certain amount of shock myself, though I’d hidden it well.
I never forgot a condom. Never. Reflexively I’d told her I was clean, because I was. I took tests regularly. But it wasn’t until I’d said the words and saw her gaze flicker that I realized it wasn’t STDs she was talking about.
So. There were two things I had to contend with. Not only had I forgotten to wear a fucking condom, I’d also forgotten the other reason I always wore one. The risk of pregnancy.
I’d said some bullshit about her need to control everything, mainly to hide the way the beast in me had roared the moment those words were out of her mouth. The savage, primitive thing that had hit me square in the chest, dragging with it the image of her pregnant with my child.
My child.
Yours. Both of them are yours.
The thoughts had battered the inside of my head as I’d stripped the gown from her, unwrapping her like the delicious treat she was, black hair falling down her back, all silky pale skin, pink nipples and that gorgeous little nest of curls between her thighs.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
I’d wanted to gorge on her. Gorge on her so thoroughly that any resistance to the thought of being owned by me had been washed away by pleasure. So completely that all she thought about was me, that she couldn’t breathe for me, every single thought in her head about me and being close to me. Unable to stand being without me.
But with my own control in question and the need to think about what the fuck it was going to mean if she was pregnant, I’d needed some space, and so did she. Because one thing I’d conveniently forgotten about in all this drama with Rowan was Charlotte fucking Hamilton and her ridiculous demands for a child.
If Rowan was indeed pregnant, then that little life growing inside her would be given to Charlotte the moment it was born.
Your child.
A fist closed around my heart, a feral possessiveness squeezing me so tight I could barely breathe, and I had to stop on the stair halfway down just to get some air.
Fuck. Fuck.
Ten had said that giving up a kid wouldn’t be easy, he’d fucking warned me and I hadn’t listened. All I’d known was that I didn’t want kids and besides, how could you feel something about a kid that had been conceived in a lab? The idea of a child had been just that, an idea. A hypothesis. A concept. Not real in any way, and absolutely nothing to do with me.
But in the space of a couple of hours, everything had changed.
Rowan was mine and if she was indeed pregnant from how I’d fucked her over the couch, then the baby would be mine too, and that made it no longer a concept or a hypothesis. That made it real.
My baby . Mine.
My muscles tightened, the urge to lock Rowan up in my loft to make sure no one would ever get to her almost uncontrollable. I gritted my teeth, fighting it.
After my mother died and all the shit my father had put me through, I’d decided that kids would never be for me. There was too much of him in me, too much of his narcissism, his selfishness. I’d managed to remake myself after my mother’s death, but I knew deep down that he’d ruined me. I couldn’t trust myself to have any decent sort of relationship let alone have children, so the decision had been an easy one to make. I’d certainly never regretted it.
But that decision had been taken out of my hands, and now I needed to rethink my position, because regardless of how shit a father I would make, there was no way in hell I was giving any child of mine Charlotte Hamilton.
Not even if it’s better for them?
The beast in me growled like wolf, savagely possessive as I tried to think logically. But logic was useless against the imperatives of that basic biological need.
And if she’s not pregnant?
I took a breath, then another. She might not be, in which case a decision still needed to be made about what to do given Charlotte’s schedule. I was already booked into the fertility clinic next week to give my little donation, but…
Do you really need to do that now?
My groin tightened, the thought of going bareback with Rowan making me even harder than I was already. Christ. She’d been so hot and tight, and so slippery, the feel of her sweet little pussy clutching around my cock insane. I didn’t want to go back to wearing a condom, that was for fucking sure, and besides, it seemed pointless now. Shutting the gate after the horse had bolted etcetera.
Of course that would mean having another conversation. Maybe Rowan wouldn’t like it, but surely sex with me was better than lying on a bed in a clinic with her feet in stirrups? Not that I’d let her do that anyway, not when the ache in my groin and the beast in my heart were arguing against it.
No, we were going to do this the old fashioned way until a pregnancy happened, and once it did, I needed a plan for what to do next. Because one thing was for sure. Charlotte was not going to take my kid, and she damn well wasn’t going to take Rowan either.
Conviction settled inside me. Rowan would have to move in with me, so I could protect her in case Charlotte decided to safeguard her surrogate. Rowan wouldn’t be happy about it, though, I knew that already. Her independent streak wouldn’t take kindly to me telling her what to do.
Too bad. This whole situation was in danger of spinning out of control if I didn’t take charge of it, and one thing I was very good at was taking charge.
I walked down the rest of the stairs before stalking into the kitchen, throwing together a late lunch as I went through options in my head.
Rowan moving in here would mean handling Cait, though that shouldn’t be an issue. I wouldn’t actively hurt Cait by taking Rowan away, not when Rowan had been her crutch for so long. But there were places she could go to recover mentally, places with lots of support. I knew of one that offered respite care for people with mental health issues, and Cait would probably like it. Again though, Rowan wouldn’t be happy. Still, as much as she was a crutch for Cait, given what she’d told me about caring for her, it seemed as if looking after Cait was a crutch for her, too. It would do her good not to have responsibility for Cait’s health weighing on her shoulders for a change.
Dealing with Cait was the easy part though. What I really had to do was figure out what to do about Charlotte.
I put food out on the long, roughly carved piece of oak that served as a dining table, then pulled my phone from my pocket and gave Ten a call.
“Atlas,” Ten answered, cool as usual. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I just got married.” I turned and leaned back against the table. “You should congratulate me.”
He ignored that. “You went through with it then?”
“I told you I’d handle it and I did.”
“But there’s a problem, isn’t there?”
Perceptive bastard wasn’t he?
“Yeah,” I admitted. “There is. You might have been right about the whole kid situation.”
There was a silence.
“Oh?” Ten enquired delicately.
“Let’s just say that the marriage has become something more than a formality, and Charlotte might get her baby sooner rather than later.”
Ten was quiet.
“You’d better not being climbing up on that high horse,” I said when the silence had gone on too long. “Especially considering who’s riding along with you.”
Ten sighed. “I’m not judging, Atlas. God knows I’m hardly pure as the driven snow when it comes to that.”
“Good,” I said flatly. “But to bring it back to the kid thing, I think I was too hasty in dismissing your warning. I think if Rowan’s pregnant and Charlotte wants to take the baby, she might have to go through me first.”
Another silence.
“Please don’t say I told you so,” I went on, “because if you do, I’ll punch your fucking lights out.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Ten said, sounding offended. “In fact, I expected you to feel this way.”
“Well, great,” I muttered. “Because I didn’t.”
“So, if Charlotte doesn’t get her baby then I go to jail presumably?”
He wasn’t complaining, simply stating the facts. Nevertheless, I glared out the huge kitchen windows at the blue sky above. “No. That’s not happening.”
“I’m a murderer, Atlas.”
“He was a fucking pedophile, Tennyson.” I was annoyed now, because we’d already had this argument and more than once. “And no one’s going to jail, not if we can find a way around this.”
“Presumably if there was a way around it, you would have found it earlier,” Ten pointed out in his irritatingly pedantic way.
I scowled. “Then I’ll just have to fucking try harder this time, won’t I?”
Ten was silent once again. “I’ll call Cal, see what we’ve got to work with,” he said at last. “I’m sure there’s something we can use against her.”
“Okay. I’ve got to deal with Rowan right now, but keep me posted.”
I hit the end button just as she appeared on the stairs, so I put my phone in my pocket and folded my arms, watching her descend.
Her hair was hanging loose and damp down her back, her face pink and freshly scrubbed, and she was wearing the T-shirt I’d laid out for her just after she’d gotten into the tub. It was an old dark blue one of mine and it pleased me to see her in it. She looked delicious, even though the tee was more than a couple of sizes too big and the hem came down to mid-thigh, the sleeves nearly to her elbows. I wanted to fuck her while she was wearing it then maybe sit her on the table and take a good long time having her pussy for lunch instead of actual food.
But not yet. There were several conversations we had to have before we got to the fun stuff.
I gestured to the table and the food I’d set out. Crusty bread and good butter. Salad and cold meats and some truly excellent cheeses. Plus the bottle of champagne that I’d just happened to have chilling in the fridge.
Her eyes widened when she saw the food, which also pleased me. Clearly she hadn’t expected lunch to be provided, but that was something she’d quickly get used to. Me, providing her with everything she needed.
I pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat in it. “Come here, beauty.”
She came over, pulling out the chair beside me, but I shook my head. “I think you know where to sit.”
Color crept into her cheeks, making her look even more luminous than she already did, not to mention heartbreakingly young. I was probably about to give her too much too soon, but the time for holding back was past, especially with the possibility of a pregnancy on the table.
She frowned. “It’s not big enough for both of us.”
“Au contraire.” I grabbed her, pulling her onto my lap. “See? Plenty of room.”
She gave a little snort, but relaxed against me without any hesitation this time. “Thank you for the bath. It was lovely.”
I took a piece of the bread I’d already cut and proceeded to spread some butter on it. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. But I hope you didn’t do what I told you not to.”
A delicate flush stained her cheeks. “I didn’t,” she said primly.
I studied her for a moment, watching as her gaze met mine for a second then flickered away. Deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt, I handed her the piece of bread. “Just as well. I’m not sure you’re up for punishments just yet.”
She took a bite out of it. “Thank you for the lunch too,” she said as she chewed. “This is nice.”
Her warm weight in my lap was tantalizing and I liked how she felt against me. It might take her some time to get used to being physical with me, but this was a good start.
“Nice,” I echoed, amused. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a meal with a woman who said it was ‘nice’.”
Rowan looked up at me from beneath her dark lashes. “You have meals with women?”
I caught the half teasing note in her voice and smiled. “Actually, no. I usually make meals of women.”
She blushed at that, but as she did, I realized suddenly that it was true. I’d never done dinner dates with women, and I’d never cooked them meals. The only time I’d ever done that kind of domestic thing was with Cait.
“You used to eat with us,” Rowan said, seemingly plucking the thought right out of my head, the little witch.
“True,” I admitted. “But being a husband is different to being a random fuck buddy.”
“Is that what you usually are? A random fuck buddy?”
“Is this a roundabout way of asking me about my conquests, beauty? You want a number?”
“No, thank you.” Again I could hear that prim note in her voice. “I don’t think my tiny brain could cope with such a staggering figure.”
“I’ve half a mind to tell you anyway, just because you said no.”
She sniffed. “It’s not something to be proud of, Atlas.”
Her audacity delighted me. “Oh my, is the little virgin judging me? Or is jealousy the issue?”
She shrugged. “Sleeping around just seems like a desperate bid for attention.”
For some reason that little barb slid beneath my skin and stuck there. “And you would know, based on your wide experience with sleeping around?” I asked.
“No, I just don’t think it makes you happy. I mean, look at Mom. It never made her happy.”
“Cait could never keep her emotions out of it,” I said. “She was looking for a relationship and with all the wrong men.”
Rowan’s blue gaze flicked upwards at me. “Or maybe all the men were just assholes.”
“Does that include me?”
“Yes,” she said without a blink, finishing up her piece of bread. “When you left she went to her bedroom and stayed in it for a week.”
“Cait wanted someone to look after her,” I said — that at least was true. “It wasn’t about me in particular.”
“Is that something you tell yourself to make yourself feel better?”
Jesus. She seemed to know exactly which button to push to get a rise out of me, which meant I was going to have to try harder not to let her get under my skin.
“Put your claws away, beauty” I said mildly enough, reaching for another piece of bread and putting some cheese on it for her this time. “Or at least tell me why you keep sharpening them on me.”
“I’m not sharpening?—”
“What’s the issue? Is it about the whole not wanting to be dependent on anyone? Proving to me you’re not a pushover?”
She frowned as she reached for the piece of bread, but I held it out of her reach. “Uh huh, you’re not getting this until you tell me the truth.”
This time she rolled her eyes exactly the way she used to back when she was a teenager and I’d told her to empty the dishwasher. “Okay, well you told me you wouldn’t just take an inch, you’d take everything,” she said irritatedly. “So I just want you to know that you can’t take everything.”
I stared at her, half-amused by her continual pushing, half impatient with it. “Little girl,” I murmured. “You can say what you like, but the fact is, I will. And you’ll let me.”
She snorted. “Like hell I will.”
I studied her face a moment. “I already know you’re strong, beauty, I told you that. I knew it back when you were a kid. You don’t need to keep fighting me in order to prove it. You’ve actually got nothing to prove to me at all.”
There was a small silence and then she glanced away. “Sorry,” she muttered. “This is all new for me. Especially being with you like…this.”
“You don’t need to apologize, I know this is new for you. You’re not used to being taken care of, either, which is not a comment on your ability to take of yourself, okay?” She looked up at me then, her blue-violet gaze searching, so I added, “I will never lie to you, beauty. Everything I tell you is the truth.”
Her gaze lingered for a moment then she sighed. “Okay,” she said at last, reluctantly.
“But now you need to learn how to be taken care of, hmmm? Because as your husband, that’s my job.”
“Atlas—”
“No, I haven’t finished.” I put the piece of bread down and took that stubborn little chin of hers between my fingers, holding her still. “What I want is for you to move in with me. You’ll let me take care of you and handle Cait as well as this bullshit with Charlotte.”
Shock rippled over her face. “Move in with you? What? Are you insane?”
“No. You were right up in the bathroom, I didn’t wear a condom. Which means you could be pregnant right now. And if you are, in nine months Charlotte will be knocking on your door wanting that baby.”
She blinked rapidly. “Yes, and you essentially told me to suck it up.”
“Yeah, well, I was wrong. Because if you are pregnant and Charlotte comes here thinking she can take that kid away, I’m not going to let her.”
.