by Joanne Rock
From the living room, Jager spied her small bedroom; a white queen-size bed dominated the space. A canopy made of willow branches around the headboard was covered in white fairy lights that made the whole room glow. The unexpected glimpse into Delia’s private space was so distracting that for a moment he’d forgotten his purpose.
“I took the test,” Delia announced, passing him a white plastic stick. “Two pink lines. I’m pregnant.”
She collapsed down onto the narrow white love seat, her robe billowing out at her sides. Her head dropped into her hands, and she planted her elbows on the bare knees visible just above her knee socks.
For his part, Jager felt like he’d just taken a roundhouse kick to the solar plexus. He’d tried to mentally prepare himself for this outcome for the past six weeks, but he hadn’t come close to doing an adequate job.
“You’re pregnant.” He stared blindly at the two pink lines for a moment before setting the test aside on a glass-topped wrought iron coffee table. He needed to focus on Delia.
Lowering himself to the love seat beside her, he placed a hand on the center of her back, hoping to reassure her. Or maybe himself. He wasn’t feeling too steady either.
“I only just found out.” She lifted her head from her hands. Her eyes were rimmed with red but there were no tears. “I should have taken the test weeks ago, but I was scared of a false reading. I knew I just wasn’t ready for the relief of getting a negative result, only to find out three days later that it hadn’t been accurate.”
“It’s okay.” He rubbed circles on her back, trying to remember the to-do list he’d typed into his phone for just this scenario. “I was worried you’ve known all week and couldn’t figure out how to tell me.”
“No.” She shook her head, damp gold strands of hair clinging to one cheek. “When you texted that you were coming home tonight, I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. Bottom line, I’ve probably been delaying just because I was worried.”
“That’s why I wanted to be here for you when you found out,” he reminded her, wondering how they were going to come to any agreement about the future of their child when they couldn’t coordinate something so simple. “I wish you would have responded to my messages.”
A determined expression appeared in her eyes. “I hope you can appreciate that we’re going to have a new dynamic between us now and I can’t be expected to have a sixty-minute window to respond to your texts. You ensured we wouldn’t be working together when you handed over my performance reviews to your brother.”
Surprised at her response, Jager realized there were many facets to this woman that he knew nothing about. Her whimsical love of gardens for one. And this steely, willful side that he’d never suspected lurked beneath her cooperative professional demeanor.
“I never said you needed to reply to my texts within the hour,” he answered, his hand going still on her shoulders where he’d been touching her.
“Perhaps not, but it’s a level of responsiveness I prided myself on when I was your assistant.” She suddenly shot up off the cushions to pace about the small living area, her stocking feet silent on the moss-colored area rug. “Maybe you never noticed, Jager, but not once in two years was I delinquent with a reply.”
He supposed that could be accurate. In truth, he’d never taken that much note. He tucked aside the information to consider later, once they’d gotten through the emotionally charged moment. For now, he focused on remembering the items on the checklist from his phone.
“Fair enough. I realize our relationship has changed radically in a short amount of time. We’ll find our way forward together.” He kept his tone gentle, unwilling to upset her any more than she already seemed. “I hope you’ll agree our next step is a doctor’s appointment to confirm the result of your test and ensure you’re off to a healthy start.”
She stopped her agitated pacing and stared at him blankly for a moment before she resumed.
“Of course.” She nodded, but she appeared distracted. She paused beside her wireless speaker and flicked it off, quieting the classical Christmas music. “I’ll call my doctor first thing in the morning.”
“I’d like to go with you.”
She stopped again, her gaze wary. “Why?”
Frustration ground through him at the realization that she could shut him out at any time. Sure, once the child was born he had a way to exercise legal rights. But until then, she could cut him out of a large part of the baby’s life—ultrasounds, heartbeats—things he wanted to be a part of. The lack of control in this situation was alien to him.
“To be a part of the process, Delia. I’ve tried to give you the space you craved these last six weeks.” It was tough even now staying in his seat while she paced the floor. He wanted to pull her against him, hold her and remind her how good they could be together in the most fundamental way, but he knew it wasn’t the time. “This child is every bit as much my responsibility as yours. I tried to explain to you on the night we made this baby that I will take this duty very seriously.” Jager would not be the kind of father Liam McNeill had been.
“Okay.” Delia nodded, then bit her lip. “I should warn you though, there’s a bit of medical history I’ll be sharing at that time. I’m not necessarily worried, but in the interest of taking every precaution—” she hesitated, her fingers massaging her temple gently before she continued “—my own mother died in childbirth.”
The revelation speared through him hard. “I should have remembered.” She’d shared that with him once, long ago. He tried to recall what little he knew about her past and her family. “You said she went into labor early, while she was out sailing with your father.”
He’d met Pascal Rickard once, a stern-faced fisherman who’d stared down Jager when he’d visited Delia’s home village to collect some of her things. Jager hadn’t wanted her to return home alone after the incident with her ex. Pascal had been in his seventies then, but even with his weathered face, gray hair and half an arm amputated, he’d been an imposing figure. His broad shoulders and burly muscles attested to the hard work he’d done all his life. The man had little to say to his only child when Delia had packed up her small room for good.
“They were having me late in life. My father was fifty at the time, and my mom was forty-two.” Delia hugged her arms around her waist; there was a new level of anguish in the story now that she was going to be a mother too. “Her uterus ruptured. The doctors told my dad afterward there was nothing he could have done to save her. She would have been in critical danger even if she’d been close to a hospital at the time.”
The thought of something like that happening to Delia floored Jager. No matter what happened between them romantically, she had been more than just an assistant to him these last two years. Even though they’d seen little of each other these last several months, he considered her a friend.
“Did her doctors know she was at risk?” He would spare no expense to keep Delia safe. He would call specialists. Hire extra help if she needed rest. His mental to-do list grew exponentially.
“She would have been considered high-risk anyway because of her age, but I’m not sure what caused the rupture.” Delia swiped a hand through her damp hair, pulling it away from her neck. “Talking about my mother—and particularly my birth—always left my father sad, so I avoided the topic in the past. But now that the events are extremely relevant to me, I will visit him as soon as possible and find out everything I can about what happened.”
“I’ll drive you there.” Jager would clear his schedule and look into hiring someone to follow up on the lead he had to find Damon. Until he knew more about Delia’s condition, he wasn’t leaving her side.
“I’ll be fine.” She shook her head, waving away the offer.
“I insist.” He rose to his feet, needing to make it clear that he was involved with this pregnancy and staying that way. He c
losed the distance between them. He didn’t reach for her the way he wanted to, but he stood close enough to catch a hint of cinnamon and cloves.
She smelled good enough to eat, reminding him of how long it had been since he’d tasted her. Touched her. He planned to pursue her again as soon as she had the all clear from her doctor.
“Jager, I understand you want to be a part of this, but I won’t compromise my independence.” Frowning, she huffed out an impatient sigh.
“Giving you a ride is hardly taking away your independence. You can drive us in the Hummer if it makes you feel more in control.” He didn’t use the huge SUV often, but the vehicle had just the right amount of metal to keep her safe. Delia had driven it before.
“This isn’t about who’s in the driver’s seat.” Her chin tilted up. She was stubborn. Fierce. “It’s about sharing decision-making. Remember we discussed that? If we’re going to be effective co-parents, we need to find a way to share responsibility.”
“I remember very well.” He couldn’t help but feel stubborn on this subject as well, damn it. Raising a child together was too important.
Which brought him to the second item on his list, every bit as important as the doctor visit.
And even more likely to put that wary look in her eyes.
“Since we want to share responsibility, I suggest we approach co-parenting through the time-honored legal channel that gives us equal rights in the eyes of the law.”
He lifted her left hand in his and held it tight. Her gaze followed the movement, brows knitting together in confusion. As he bent over her left hand, he kissed the back of her knuckles. When he straightened, her lips had formed a silent O of surprise. But he didn’t even hesitate.
“Delia Rickard, will you marry me?”
Five
Was he serious?
Delia studied Jager’s handsome face, trying to understand his motive. He had to know how fiercely she would resist that kind of bloodless arrangement, especially now that she’d had a glimpse of what real passion felt like. She wasn’t going to accept anything less than true love if she ever returned to the altar again.
“How can you ask me that after what I went through with my engagement?” Delia slid her fingers free of Jager’s hand. Though her skin tingled pleasantly from the contact, her brain rejected his matter-of-fact proposal. She needed time to process all of this. Rushing headlong to make another mistake was not the answer, and she felt like she was hanging on by an emotional thread right now. “I already had one man try to marry me for purely business reasons.”
“Our child is hardly a business reason,” Jager reminded her. She noticed how he was still wearing his travel clothes: dark jeans, white tee and simply cut black jacket.
She would bet he’d driven here directly from the airport. His face was rough with a few days’ whiskers too, making her wonder what his trip chasing Damon around the globe had been like.
“A legal reason then,” she told him flatly. “I believe that’s the very language you used when you tendered the offer. Marriage as a legal channel to raise our child jointly.”
He drew a breath, no doubt to launch a counteroffensive, but she was simply not ready for this conversation tonight. His presence already loomed too big in her small living room, and with his child literally growing inside her, it was simply too much.
“Jager, I’m sorry.” She stepped closer, hoping to appeal to him as a friend. “I’m still reeling from all of this. Since we’ll be spending time together tomorrow to speak to my father and visit the doctor, maybe we could table this discussion for tonight to give us both a chance to get a handle on it?”
“I understand.” He nodded but made no move to leave. His blue gaze skimmed over her. “Will you join me for dinner? We can unwind and relax. No need to talk about anything you don’t wish to discuss.”
She hesitated. And in the small span of silence, he picked up her hand and slid his thumb across the center of her palm in a touch that was deliberately provocative. Or maybe she was just especially sensitive to his caress.
Either way, it gave her shivers.
“Delia, we were together the last time I was here for a reason.” His voice wound around her senses, drawing her in. “There is no need to deny ourselves a connection we couldn’t resist then either.”
She swayed in limbo, hovering between wanting to lose herself in his touch, and wanting to set new parameters for a relationship grown way too complicated. In the end, she wasn’t ready to do either. Taking a deep breath, she extricated her fingers from his.
“That connection caused me to make a reckless decision that I’m unwilling to repeat.”
Yet.
She knew resisting the pull of Jager McNeill was going to be a Herculean task, but for the sake of their child, she needed to sort out her feelings and make a plan before she ran headlong into another unwise decision.
“Very well.” He tipped his head in the barest concession of her point. “I’ll wait to hear from you in the morning. Let me know what time to pick you up.”
“Thank you. I’ll text you.” She knew tomorrow she’d face the same temptations all over again—to simply fall back into a heated relationship with Jager and indulge herself. But maybe after a good night’s sleep, she’d feel stronger. More ready to think about what kind of preparations she needed to make for her child’s future.
“Until then, I hope you bear in mind that I’m sleeping close by and I’m here for you, Delia.” He reached out and ran his finger along a damp strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. Then, lowering his voice, he brushed the back of his knuckles along her cheek. “Day or night.”
She felt the sexy promise low in her belly, where desire pooled, thick and hot. All at once, she was reminded of how very naked she was beneath her robe. Of how easy it would be to shrug her way out of it and take the pleasure Jager’s touch offered.
For a moment, she didn’t dare to breathe, her whole body weak with longing. She guessed that he knew. His blue eyes turned a molten shade for a moment, before he allowed his touch to fall away.
When he departed, bidding her good-night before he closed her door behind him, Delia slumped onto the sofa, her heart beating wildly. Resisting her former boss wasn’t going to be easy. How long would he hold back because she asked him to? Another day? A week?
Because she knew with certainty that she would have lost herself in him all over again tonight if he’d pressed his advantage and used all that chemistry to woo her. That meant she needed to be smart. Strong. Resolute.
She couldn’t possibly invite Jager back into her bed unless she meant more to him than a passing pleasure. With a child on the way, the stakes were too high to give him that kind of power over her since she wasn’t the kind of woman who could simply indulge herself for the sake of...indulging.
Starting tomorrow, there wouldn’t be any more impromptu meetings in private spaces where they could be totally alone. She needed allies. Distractions.
She needed family.
With that kind of buffer to romance, Delia would carefully insulate herself from temptation until Jager saw reason. Until he understood how much it hurt her to think about marrying for purely legal reasons. She’d already been a means to an end for one man. Now? She would never marry for anything less than love.
* * *
Jager stared at his cell phone as his call went through to the Manhattan number.
He didn’t want to speak to any of his half brothers and hated relying on anyone else to find Damon. But tonight’s discovery that Delia was pregnant left him with limited options. He needed to be with her to press his suit for marriage and, even more important, to make sure she remained in good health throughout her pregnancy. The realization that her mother had died in childbirth had left him reeling far more than the news that he was going to be a father.
>
He wouldn’t let anything happen to Delia, or to their child. And if that meant making a deal with his father’s other sons in New York, Jager would do it. He couldn’t search for his missing brother and win over Delia too.
“Cameron McNeill,” his half brother answered. It was a name Jager might never get used to hearing.
Until two months ago, Damon, Gabe and he were the only ones in his life who shared the same last name and the same useless father.
“It’s Jager,” he announced, pacing around his upstairs bedroom balcony. He could see a corner of the carriage house below. Delia’s lights were all out now.
“Hello, brother.” The greeting wasn’t exactly sarcastic. But not entirely friendly either.
Hell. Maybe it was simply awkward. Jager could totally empathize with that, at least.
“I’ve decided to call in the favor you offered last time you were here.” He lowered himself to sit on the giant chaise longue—another new addition to the house’s furnishings under Delia’s supervision. Everything about the historic Martinique property was warmer and more comfortable since she’d taken over.
“The favor I offered the time you locked me out and refused to see me?”
“Correct.”
While he waited for Cam to respond, Jager could hear the familiar music from a popular video game. He’d read—during a brief, unwelcome need to acquaint himself with the other branch of the family—that Cameron had founded a video game development company.
“I’m glad you’re willing to have this conversation,” Cameron finally said as the triumphant music that signaled he’d completed another game level played in the background. “Gramps is going to be psyched.”
Jager stared out over the cottage and the gardens beyond just as some of the landscape lights shut off for the night.
“I’m not going to New York anytime soon,” he warned his half brother. His grandfather had been pushing for a visit, but he had too many things to focus on at home. “I want to see if your investigator has any more luck than I’ve had finding Damon.”