Saskia threatened all of that. Or, more to the point, his lack of focus when it came to this one woman threatened all of that.
He forgot himself around her.
And that couldn’t happen.
Things had changed; she was carrying his baby and he couldn’t let his desire for her make him forget his responsibility as a father. He absolutely would not put this child through anything like what his parents had put him and Sol through.
He would not give in to that primal part of him which seemed to crave her so very greatly. He was better than that. And any child of his deserved more than that.
‘Malachi...? Why did you leave like that?’
He didn’t realise she’d followed him out, hadn’t heard her footsteps coming down the hall until he heard her quiet, shaky voice. Despite all his internal cautioning his chest tightened at the mere sound of her near him. And if he hadn’t known better he might have actually believed his heart gave a kick of delight.
What the hell was he playing at?
Malachi jabbed his finger on the countertop. ‘That should never have happened.’
He could spout about honour and legitimacy and protection all he liked, but he suspected that the real truth of it was far less altruistic. He was being led by something far baser, far more primal. He was being led by his unextinguished desire for Saskia. She was like the worst kind of drug. One taste of her and he’d been hungering for her ever since, craving her in a way which was entirely too much out of his control for Malachi’s liking.
And he was never out of control.
Yet here he was, desperate to keep her here before she remembered her own mind and walked away from him, just like she had at the end of that weekend.
‘I won’t marry you,’ she said belligerently.
Malachi bared his teeth in what he hoped would pass for a grim smile. ‘Yes, Saskia, you will.’
Because his child would never have anyone look at him as though he was less than anyone else.
‘You think that just because you have money you can order people to do whatever you see fit?’
He hadn’t anticipated this show of temper.
‘It won’t work on me. You’re not the only one to have come from money. To be used to getting your own way. I can be just as obstinate, too.’
He wanted to tell her that he hadn’t come from money. That he had scraped and struggled for every penny he had ever made. But he didn’t. Because he knew it mattered to his brother—more than it ever had to himself—not to reveal the true depths of their childhood.
It took him a moment to realise he had hit a nerve.
Interesting.
‘We’ve been through this, Saskia, have we not? I understand that you’re the daughter of Hollywood royalty and that your childhood must have been a fairy tale. You had two parents who loved each other right up until the last. But this isn’t a perfect movie story. This is real life.’
And he told himself that he didn’t covet any of it—because if he hadn’t experienced the hell of his own childhood he wouldn’t be where he was today.
‘Of course,’ she managed tightly, her face shutting down just as it had a matter of hours ago.
And Malachi resolved in that instant to uncover just what it was that Saskia was hiding.
He knew he should put a stop to it immediately, but found he couldn’t. What was it he’d just been saying about rules and control? Yet in reality he was so far out of his comfort zone he scarcely recognised himself.
Worse. A part of him didn’t even seem to care.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, balling them into fists, as though that might somehow help him hold on to his own sanity. He had to do something to recover his equilibrium.
‘I think it would be best if I take you home whilst I decide how best to handle this situation.’
‘I am not a situation that needs to be handled,’ she hissed incredulously.
‘I would beg to differ.’
People didn’t challenge you when you were the boss of a multinational organisation. They certainly didn’t talk back or banter. But Saskia bit back with whatever was on her mind—rather like Sol did—and Malachi had to admit it was refreshing.
‘And now, as much as this conversation is diverting, I think it’s best if I take you home.’
Even though every fibre in his body was screaming for him not to let her leave.
Or maybe because every fibre in him was screaming for him not to let her leave.
‘And then what?’ she demanded.
He didn’t have the answer to that. He only knew that whilst she was here he couldn’t think straight. He needed time—and a little space—to come up with a workable solution. One that didn’t put him straight in temptation’s path.
‘I’ll let you know.’ He shrugged, moving towards the door. ‘When I’m ready.’
* * *
‘Hi, I’m Saskia, the doctor who has taken over Caleb’s case.’ Saskia smiled gently at the frightened-looking woman with her five-month-old baby. ‘This must be Caleb, and you’re Mum?’
The woman nodded jerkily.
Saskia could only empathise. The woman had brought her baby in the previous night and he had been diagnosed with bronchiolitis, moderate in severity. But, according to the handover team, less than hour ago he’d begun to show signs of deterioration.
‘So, the previous doctor told you that my colleague, Maria, is going to start this little man on high oxygen flow?’
‘Yes. Will that cure him?’ the woman choked out.
‘It should help Caleb to breathe a little easier,’ explained Saskia. ‘Are you here on your own? Is there anyone who can be with you?’
The woman shook her head.
‘No one. It’s just the two of us. Caleb wasn’t planned, and when I found out I was pregnant, Tom—Caleb’s dad—didn’t want to know. We’d been together for a year. I didn’t expect him to propose or anything. But I didn’t think he’d leave us without a word.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Saskia offered, not sure what else to say. ‘Well, we’re here for you and your son. Try not to worry—the oxygen should help. I’ll check on him in about an hour or so to make sure that it is, okay?’
‘Okay.’
Saskia pulled the curtain out of the way and stepped out, confirming her intentions with Maria before moving on to check the next priority on her ward round.
But her head was spinning.
She’d spent the past week since she’d left Malachi’s apartment throwing herself into work. Doing everything she could to keep her mind off the man who was the father of her unborn baby.
She’d convinced herself that she’d made the right decision in rejecting his marriage proposal, but now, after that revelation from her young patient’s mother, she was seriously doubting herself.
Whatever else she could say about her and Malachi, she couldn’t say that he didn’t want to know about their baby. They weren’t even a couple, yet he’d instantly expected to be part of their life. Had practically insisted on it.
Had she been thinking of her best interests or her unborn baby’s when she’d dismissed Malachi’s marriage proposal so scornfully? It wasn’t as though they couldn’t stand each other. In fact, quite the opposite.
Without warning, images of Malachi touching her—his hands, his mouth—flashed into her head, leaving her body searing. Feeling as though it might combust at any moment. The way it had been doing every time she’d thought of him over the past few months.
Only this time it was much, much worse. Because with each week that had gone by she’d managed to persuade herself that she was exaggerating quite how good he’d been. Quite how skilled.
But that repeat performance last week had offered her a whole host of new experiences and, even more galling, had only proved to her that her imagination hadn’
t been overselling Malachi’s talent in playing her body. If anything, her memories had seriously underplayed his artistry and the devastating effect he had on her.
And, for all her posturing, the simple truth was that she longed for more. She craved it. And that couldn’t be a good thing to want with the man who was supposed to have been her rebound one-night stand.
What if marriage to Malachi wasn’t so bad after all?
You’re just having a wobble, she told herself firmly, heading for the nurses’ station, which was mercifully deserted, and gripping hold of the melamine surface so hard that her knuckles went white.
She was having a scan this afternoon. No doubt that was why seeing Caleb’s mother had frightened her when she thought about having the baby alone.
As much as she might like to pretend otherwise, she was already watching the door for Malachi, and it didn’t matter that it was at least four hours too early. He’d told her it was ‘all or nothing’, but she didn’t know whether to believe him. A part of her hoped he would be there. But now she’d seen Caleb and his mother and she’d realised that it was foolish of her to assume Malachi would come after she’d told him he didn’t have to.
And yet it had frightened her to think that he might not.
What she ought to focus on was the fact that she wasn’t Caleb’s mother, and Malachi wasn’t this Tom. There was no reason for her to panic and rush into a marriage neither of them would have even considered if she hadn’t been pregnant, as though this was last century.
She ignored the tiny voice needling her, telling her that any woman who didn’t consider marriage to a man as successful and stunning and all-round masculine as Malachi Gunn had to be a little bit mad.
‘Saskia?’
The shrill sound of Babette had Saskia squeezing her eyes shut. Was there no shift she could work in this hospital without that woman seeming to dog her?
‘Are you all right? You aren’t going to faint again, are you?’
Plastering a bright smile on her face, Saskia squared her shoulders and spun around.
‘No, Babette, I’m quite all right.’
The woman didn’t even have the decency to disguise her disappointment.
‘Your concern is really quite touching, though.’
And she strode off to her next patient before Babette could answer.
* * *
Mercifully, the rest of the morning passed quickly. Between rounds and routine jobs she also saw several chest infections, some minor injuries, an undescended testicle and a hip misalignment. Just the kind of busy morning to keep her brain perfectly occupied.
So by the time she’d made sure everything was handed over for the next half hour or so, there were a mere ten minutes until her scan.
And no sign of Malachi.
Her heart beat out a frenetic rhythm in her chest and her stomach dipped, but she told herself that she was fine, and rubbed her hand gently over her abdomen. It was startling how, despite her pregnancy not starting to show yet, she felt attached to her baby. He or she wasn’t even planned, and yet she already couldn’t imagine not being pregnant.
And in less than an hour she would be meeting her baby for the first time, as it were.
Alone? Or would Malachi come even after everything she’d said?
She wondered what he was thinking. How he might feel. She’d had three months to get her head around it. And it was growing inside her body—she could feel the changes even if she couldn’t see them. But Malachi had barely had a week to get used to the idea.
It should have taken her less than ninety seconds to get to the ultrasound unit, yet she dawdled, her eyes darting over every face, the back of every head, as she made her way along the corridor.
The wave of nausea which began to swell inside her had nothing to do with morning sickness.
He really wasn’t coming, and it was all her own fault.
Gripping the handrail, Saskia stopped in a glass hallway and fought to draw a breath. She’d thought she didn’t know what she wanted. Apparently she knew more than she’d realised.
She wanted her baby to have its father.
Not necessarily marriage, as Malachi had put forward, but...something. She’d been lying when she’d told him she could do it alone. Lying to him or to herself, she couldn’t be sure. Either way, she should have bent a little more. She should have compromised.
But then she’d never been very good at that. It had been one of the many criticisms that Andy had levelled at her which he’d been right about. Of course there was also an argument to say that if Andy had been a fairer, more honest, more loyal fiancé, then perhaps she would have actually wanted to compromise more.
Well, it was too late now. She’d made her bed, as they said. Now she had to go and get scanned on it.
Maybe afterwards, if she was feeling brave, she would take a detour past Malachi’s apartment. Perhaps even apologise for her curtness last week.
Lifting her head, Saskia focused on moving forward, one step at a time, until she finally reached the end of the corridor and went through the double doors to the booking-in desk.
* * *
‘Cutting it a bit fine, aren’t you?’
His dry voice in her ear had Saskia spinning in an instant.
‘You came!’
She actually seemed pleased to see him there, and for a moment Malachi was thrown.
He’d half expected her to tell him he was not wanted at the scan. He’d even been prepared for it.
Saskia had laid her position out all too clearly the other night, when she’d turned down his marriage proposal without even a hint of a qualm. She didn’t need him and she didn’t really even want him—at least not outside the bedroom.
But he was the father of her unborn baby, and he had no intention of letting the child grow up thinking he didn’t want to be a part of its life. That he didn’t care.
He’d gone through the whole gamut of emotions after Saskia had left his apartment a week ago, yet he still didn’t know exactly how he felt. He only knew that he was this baby’s father and as such he had a responsibility both to it and to Saskia. Whatever she might wish.
And now she was smiling at him as though she was glad he was here. As though she hadn’t told him that she could do it alone. As though she hadn’t spelled out that he was nothing more than a rebound to her, and that it made no difference to her whether he was part of their lives or not. As though she hadn’t turned on him, dismissing his relevance in her life the way his mother had done to him—and to Sol—all those years ago.
He’d let his guard down with Saskia.
He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
‘Don’t worry. I’m only here for the baby—not for you,’ he murmured, as he accompanied her to the chairs, carrying her file in his hand.
She blinked at him, and something he couldn’t identify flashed through those rich chocolate depths. Then it was gone.
‘Glad to hear it. I wouldn’t want to have to turn down yet another hollow marriage proposal.’
‘Trust me, I have no intention of repeating that.’
There had to be something wrong with him, because every single word burned in his throat, acrid and bitter, whilst Saskia offered him a curt bob of the head as though finally—barely—she was satisfied.
Malachi gritted his teeth and waited for her name to be called, unable to stop himself from placing his hand at the small of her back as they walked in, helpless to control this protective instinct that surged inside him when he looked at her.
It made no sense. He’d vowed to himself long ago that a wife, children, weren’t for him. Hadn’t he sacrificed so much of his childhood to playing the part of a parent? It was why he’d set up Care to Play with his brother. In order to help young carers have some semblance of a childhood in a way that he had never enjoyed. But he never wanted to
bear that responsibility himself again.
And yet here he was. In a consultation room with a woman who was little more than a stranger and an unborn baby he would never have chosen to have.
But it was what it was, and he would deal with it the best way he could. The way he dealt with everything in his life...
Malachi didn’t know the exact moment he went from detached to awestruck.
Perhaps it was when he saw the image come into focus on the sonographer’s screen. Or when he saw the distinct outline of the baby’s head. Or maybe it was when he heard the strong, rapid beat of his baby’s heart.
He didn’t know. And yet in that instant everything...shifted. His world began to tilt, slowly at first, then faster. It started to rotate, and spin, and he felt himself toppling, then falling.
His baby.
And Saskia’s.
And he knew he would go to the ends of the earth to protect it.
‘We should talk...’ Saskia bit her lip as they stepped out of the consultation room together.
‘We should,’ he agreed smoothly. ‘I think we need to start again.’
She smiled, almost shyly. ‘I’d like that.’
Whatever he’d expected her to say, it hadn’t been that. But why object when she was only voicing the thoughts in his own head.
‘A late lunch?’ he suggested, glancing at his watch.
It was the kind of timepiece that cost more than some people’s cars. He’d prided himself on that purchase. A reward for his first half a million.
Suddenly it seemed empty.
‘I can’t.’
Saskia shook her head, and he might even have thought she sounded genuinely disappointed.
‘I have to get back to the ward. Technically, I’m in the middle of a full weekend shift.’
‘A full weekend?’
Was this her way of giving him the brush-off?
Surprise Baby for the Billionaire Page 7