Bravo Christmas Reunion

by Christine Rimmer

He swore. A word harsh and graphic. But at least after that, he fell silent.

  She met his eyes. “What if there was no baby, if I wasn’t pregnant…?”

  “But you are.”

  “Work with me here. If I wasn’t. Would you be asking me to marry you now?”

  A muscle danced in his jaw. “I would, yes. I love you.”

  The lie was so huge, she almost smiled. And the knot that was her stomach had eased a little. She felt better now. She knew she could hold out against him, against her impossible dream that he would someday find his way to her, that at last he would see she was the only one for him.

  But he hadn’t found his way to her, not in his secret heart. And he never would.

  “Marcus. Come on. You’re lying.”

  “No. I’m not.”

  “Please. This is not going to work.”

  “The hell it won’t. I came here to see you, didn’t I, showed up at your door last night? And I had no damn clue about the baby then.”

  Okay. Point for him. But hardly a winning one.

  She challenged, “You’re telling me you came here because you realized you couldn’t live without me?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You didn’t want to go another day without me at your side? You came here intending to ask me to marry you, after all, to beg me to give our love another chance and be your bride at last, to make you the happiest man on earth, make all your dreams come true?”

  He looked at her steadily. It was not a pleasant look. “Damn you, Hayley. I want to marry you now. Why does it matter what I would have done if you hadn’t been pregnant?”

  “Is that a real question?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you really want to know why it matters?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “All right. It matters because in all my life, except for the sister and brother I found in June at my mother’s deathbed, I’ve never had anyone to really call my own. I’ve worn other people’s hand-me-downs, lived in other people’s houses, been the extra kid, the one who didn’t really belong. The one who never had a home of her own.”

  “I’m offering you—”

  “Wait. I’m not finished. What I’m trying to say is that I had no choice, about the way I grew up. But I do have a choice now. When I get married, I’m going to finally belong to someone. Completely. Lovingly. Openly. And the man I marry will belong to me.”

  “I will belong to you. I’ll be true to you, I’ll never betray you.”

  “Well, of course you wouldn’t. You’re not the kind to cheat. Except in your secret heart.”

  “That’s not so.”

  “It is. You know it is. You’ll never belong to me, Marcus. You belong to Adriana. You always have and you always will.”

  Chapter Four

  Marcus regarded the pregnant woman on the blue couch. At least she had a little color in her cheeks now. Telling him all the nonsensical reasons she wouldn’t have him as a husband had brought a warm flush to her velvety skin.

  Terrific. She had pink cheeks and he wanted to…

  Hell. He didn’t know what he wanted to do, exactly. Something violent. Something loud. Something to snap her out of this silly resistance she was giving him and make it crystal clear to her that she was making no damn sense and she ought to smarten up and get with the program.

  Adriana wasn’t the issue here. She’d walked away, divorced him. That part of his life was over. For good.

  Hayley loved him and needed him. He was willing, at last, to be what she needed.

  He spoke, the soul of reason. “I’m here, now, today, and ready to do what you wanted. You left me because I wouldn’t marry you. And now I want to marry you. I want to give you exactly what you were asking for all along. I don’t understand why you have to be difficult about this. You’re not behaving rationally. And one of your finest qualities has always been your ability to step back and assess a situation logically. I advise you to do that. Now.”

  “Marcus.”

  He hated when she said his name like that. So patiently. As if he were a not-very-bright oversize child. It was supremely annoying, the way she got to him, the way he let her get to him. He’d graduated from Stanford at the top of his class; he’d built a billion-dollar corporation from virtually nothing. He knew how to deal with people, how to get along and get what he wanted.

  But with Hayley, somehow, since she’d decided she loved him and wanted to marry him, he hadn’t known how to deal at all. First, she left him because he wouldn’t marry her. And now that he said he would marry her, she was turning him down.

  And she was talking again. All patience and gentleness, trying to make him understand. “No. You don’t want to marry me. You want to take care of your child—and the mother of your child. You think marrying me is the best way to do that, to take care of us. I admire you for that. I truly do. You are a fine man and I’m proud to be having your baby. But that kind of marriage—marriage you want because it’s the right thing? Uh-uh. That’s just not what I want. And it’s not what our baby needs, either. Our baby needs—no. Our baby deserves a loving home, a happy home. How can our baby have that if you’re resentful because you felt you had to marry me?”

  “Whoa.” He waited, just to be sure she was going to stop talking and listen for a moment. When she stayed quiet, he said slowly and clearly, “Don’t characterize me. Please. I’m not resentful. Not in the least. And you know me well enough by now to know that I never do anything because I have to. I never do anything I don’t want to do.”

  She was shaking her head. “All right. Have it your way. You want to marry me. Because you feel that you have to.”

  He stood. “Hayley.”

  She gazed up at him, her expression angelic. “What?”

  “I’m going to go now.” Before my head explodes.

  “Oh, Marcus…”

  He went to the closet by the door and got his coat. “We can…work this out tomorrow.” He’d regroup, come at this problem in a fresh, new way—true, at this point he hadn’t a clue what that way might be. But something would come to him, some way to get through to her, to make her see reason.

  “There’s nothing to work out,” she said brightly. “Not when it comes to marriage, anyway—and where are you staying?”

  He named his hotel. “Tomorrow, then.”

  She was on her feet, her hands pressed together as if in prayer, her expression verging on tender, her eyes at that moment sea-blue. He wanted to cover the distance between them, sweep her into his arms and taste those lips he’d been missing for so many months.

  But no. Later for kissing. After she realized he was right about this. After she agreed to marry him and come home with him where he could take care of her, where she—and their baby—belonged.

  In his hotel suite, Marcus checked his messages. There were several, each representing a different potential disaster. He made a string of calls to his associates. They brainstormed and came up with the necessary steps to eradicate the issues before they became catastrophes. By the time he hung up from the final call of the night, he was reassured that things in Seattle were as under control as they were likely to get until he could handle this situation with Hayley and return to work.

  Next, he checked his e-mail, one eye on CNN as he made his replies, keeping a couple of IM conversations going at the same time, taking two more calls and answering questions as he worked. At last, with the phone quiet and the replies made, he put on his gym clothes and went down to the guest gym to work out.

  Aside from the night before, when he had learned about the baby, Marcus never touched liquor—or drugs of any kind. His father had been a hopeless and violent drunk and Marcus was determined, above all, not to follow in the old man’s footsteps. But his high-stress lifestyle demanded he find some way to relax and blow off steam. So he worked out.

  An hour and a half later, dripping sweat, his legs and arms rubbery from pushing every muscle to the limit, he returned to his roo
ms and hit the shower. It was after one when he went to bed. By then he’d decided on his next move with Hayley and his confidence had returned.

  Tomorrow, she would see things his way and agree to be his wife. They could be married in Nevada ASAP. And then she could return to Seattle with him and take it easy until the baby was born. They would have a good life, a full life.

  He’d long ago accepted that he would never be a father. But now that it was happening, he was realizing he really didn’t mind at all.

  At seven the next morning, when Hayley opened the blinds on the living room window, she saw Marcus sitting out there on her balcony next to the miniature tree. She was tempted, just for the sake of being contrary, to let him sit there.

  But it was cold out. Even from the far side of the window, with him facing away from her toward the central courtyard, she could see the way his breath plumed in the air.

  It just wouldn’t be right, to let her baby’s father freeze to death on her landing.

  She went and opened the door. At the sound, he turned and looked at her. Once again, she was forced to ignore the shiver of pleasure that skittered through her, just from meeting those watchful green eyes.

  “I thought you’d never get up.”

  She gathered her robe a little closer around her and spoke in a tone meant to show he didn’t thrill her in the least. “How do you keep slipping through the security gate, that’s what I’d like to know?”

  His fine mouth hinted at a wry smile as he stood. “Nobody keeps me out when I’m determined to get in.” His eyes said he was talking about more than a locked gate. Another shiver. She told herself it was the cold. “Make me some coffee?”

  She couldn’t help teasing him, “You know, there’s a Starbucks just two blocks away on—”

  “Very funny.” He asked again—or rather demanded, “Coffee. I need coffee.”

  “Oh, all right.”

  He followed her in, put his coat in the closet, then sat at the table and got out his PDA as she ground the beans and got the pot started. He poked at the tiny keys a mile a minute while she heated the water for her own special pregnant-lady herbal tea blend.

  “I’m having oatmeal,” she told him. “Want some?”

  He glanced up from the device in his hand. “Sounds good. Thanks.” She got to work on the oatmeal as he finished on the BlackBerry and put it away. “Can I help?”

  “Why not? Bowls are in there.” She indicated a cabinet. “Mugs there.” She pointed again. “Spoons in here.” She pulled out a drawer.

  He rose and washed his hands and then set the table. It was…nice, she thought. Peaceful and domestic, the two of them in her little apartment, putting the simple breakfast together.

  Not that she was changing her mind about anything. She wasn’t. Though she had no doubt he would be putting the pressure on again any minute now.

  She was right.

  She sat down to her bowl of oats and reached for the brown sugar. A ring waited behind it. A truly amazing ring. The enormous central diamond winking at her in the early-morning light.

  The thing was gorgeous. The main stone had to be four carats, maybe five, Marquise cut—wasn’t that what they called that near-oval shape that tapered to a point at either end? A matched pair of gorgeous round diamonds snuggled up close on either side. The setting? Platinum. Of course.

  It was…more, that ring. More than she would have chosen. More than she had dared to imagine, more than she ever could have hoped for, back in the day when she allowed herself the luxury of fantasizing about such things as engagement rings.

  It was showy and perfect and it probably cost more than her yearly salary at Around the Corner Catering. She just ached to grab it and try it on—and never take it off. Even with her finger puffy from pregnancy, she knew it would fit….

  And Marcus was watching her. “I meant to give it to you last night. But you were so busy saying no, I never got the chance.”

  “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “But I can’t accept it, and you know I can’t.”

  He sipped his coffee. “I thought we could go to Las Vegas. We could be married this afternoon.”

  She repeated, gently, with honest regret, “I’m not going to marry you. I told you that.”

  He didn’t say a word, only looked at her, eyes level. Zero emotion. It was one of those moments where you could have heard a feather stir the air as it drifted to the floor.

  Finally, he set down his mug, took out a velvet box and put the ring inside. He snapped the box closed and slipped it into a pocket. “You through with that brown sugar?”

  She spooned some on her cereal and passed it to him. Same with the milk. She took some; so did he.

  He tried it. “Good.”

  She nodded, longing to insist that she really did love the ring. She did appreciate his effort—or his nice older-lady assistant’s effort, which was probably more likely. No way he’d managed to clear his calendar and get back here in one day and still have time to choose a ring. Whatever. It didn’t matter who chose the ring. She was touched and she did want him to know that.

  But going on about how touched she was would only increase his confidence that he was making progress toward getting her to marry him. Uh-uh. Wedding bells were not going to be ringing for them and the sooner he accepted that, the better.

  He asked, “What time are you due at work?”

  “Nine.”

  “And you’re there until six?”

  “No. Unless something comes up unexpectedly, we have no parties scheduled for tonight. I should be done by two or three.” She felt just bad enough about the ring to volunteer more details. “I’m training my replacement. My last day is a week from Friday, as a matter of fact.”

  His expression didn’t change. “I’ll drive you.”

  “Uh. To work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Really. That’s not—”

  “Humor me, all right? I’ll drive you there and pick you up when you’re finished.”

  “But I don’t…” She let the refusal fade off into nothing. She knew by his carved-in-stone expression that he wasn’t backing down on this. Not without a fight. And right then, after getting a look at that beautiful ring she couldn’t accept, she just didn’t have the heart to hold the line that hard with him. “All right. A ride is great. Thanks.”

  Around the Corner Catering had space in a new-looking strip mall. A brick facade and lots of windows, with well-tended flower beds out front.

  Not bad, Marcus thought. In an upscale commercial area. At least she wasn’t working in a rough part of town.

  Hayley asked him to drive around back, where she pointed at a steel door bearing a plaque that read Around the Corner. “That’s it.”

  Marcus nosed the car into an empty space opposite the door.

  She sent him an apprehensive glance. “I’m not sure exactly what time I’ll be finished….”

  “Call when you’re ready. You have the number?”

  “I do, thanks.” She got out and started for the building. He waited until she disappeared through the door before he backed and drove away.

  The morning had been pretty much a loss. He’d gotten nowhere with her. And given that he damn well wasn’t leaving until she agreed to leave with him, he was stuck another day in Sacramento.

  Hell. He’d been so certain the ring was going to do it. Women went nuts for a big, fat diamond.

  Most women, anyway. Not Hayley, though. At least not nuts enough to stop being so damn stubborn and let him do right by her.

  Maybe he hadn’t been romantic enough. He wasn’t much good at the romantic stuff, never had been. Adriana used to complain about that all the time—how he wouldn’t know a romantic gesture if it hit him on the head.

  Marcus accepted his limitations in that area. He’d always thought that Hayley did, too. When things were good between them, she’d sworn she loved him just the way he was.

&
nbsp; “You’re not the least romantic,” she’d told him once. They were in bed. After an amazing hour of lovemaking. “But you are sexy as hell, Marcus Reid. Never change….”

  He didn’t intend to change. Still, hiding that big rock behind the brown sugar had been kind of cute. And the expression on her face when she saw it waiting there…

  Priceless.

  But he probably should have dropped to his knees the minute she spotted it and spouted something tender and poetic about how much she meant to him, about how he couldn’t live another nanosecond without her at his side.

  If he’d planned ahead better, he could have copped some flowery phrases off the Internet, been prepared to rattle them off at just the right moment.

  Seeing him on his knees, spouting love poems. Now, that would have shocked her. Enough to get her to say yes?

  He’d never know now. The opportunity was blown.

  He headed for his hotel and a couple of hours on the phone, conferencing with his managers, getting them up to speed on how they would be handling things on their own for yet another twenty-four hours.

  By noon, he felt he had everything on track—or at least as on track as it was going to get until he could take the reins in person again. That left him a couple of hours to kill before he picked up Hayley.

  He knew just how to make the best use of that time: the brother.

  In a situation as sticky as this one was turning out to be, Marcus could use an ally. Someone to support his case with Hayley. He’d considered approaching the sister, trying to get her on his side. But having seen Kelly with Hayley Monday night, he didn’t foresee much assistance coming from that angle. Whatever choice Hayley made, Kelly would back her up.

  Even if it was the wrong choice. Kelly wouldn’t presume to tell her sister what she ought to do unless Hayley asked for her advice.

  A brother, on the other hand, might damn well presume. A brother might push for his sister to do what was right, even if he had to stick his nose in where it didn’t strictly belong.

  Tuesday, between meetings, Marcus had contacted that P.I. again—the one he’d hired months ago to find out where Hayley had gone. This time he’d asked for a full report.