Andrew and Glenn sucked in collective breaths as they continued to glare at Jake. “So when are you going to marry her?” Andrew’s normally friendly tones were Arctic.
Glenn had his fists curled. “Soon enough.” He took a striding step forward.
Brian nodded. “It will need to happen soon.” His gaze fell to Laila’s gently rounded tummy. “She’ll be showing properly in a week or two—though that won’t stop the talk.”
Looking tired and emotional, Marcie sighed, and seemed about to mediate the escalating male passions—but it was Laila’s next words that gained everyone’s attention.
“My life and decisions are my own. I’m telling you my plans because you’re my family and I love you—but I won’t tolerate interference in my future happiness. What happened was a mistake, a one-night thing. I refuse to make the situation worse by marrying Jake.”
Though she’d spoken quietly, the silence in the living room couldn’t be louder if she’d set off a firecracker. Every gaze swiveled to where she sat, pale but composed.
“Want to bet? You’ll do the right thing,” Glenn growled. His face was flushed, his eyes dark with intense emotion, and he was obviously itching for a fight.
Laila smiled at him, gently and sadly. “Hayley Jesmond,” was all she said. Jake hadn’t a clue what the local land owner Ben Jesmond’s gorgeous and still single sister had to do with anything; but Glenn clearly did. He flushed, and his aggression visibly lowered.
“That was different,” he muttered, looking at his feet.
“Why?” she said softly. “Because she lost the baby—or because it was you stuck in this situation? You’re saying you have the right to choose your life partner, but I don’t?”
Andrew growled, “Seems to me you did choose him, Lai. Everyone with eyes that night saw you choose him.” Andrew watched Laila flush with no small amount of satisfaction—and Jake was feeling the same. Whatever she said, that was a truth she could never deny. She’d wanted him, and she’d got him, not the other way around. “So what’s changed since then?”
For the first time, her gaze fell. She plucked at her loose jade-green dress—the first dress Jake had ever seen her wear—before she looked around her father to Marcie, her eyes pleading for understanding. “I want what you and Dar have.” Her voice was barely above a mumble, but the passion in her bubbled through each word. “I don’t want my husband to put up with me. I’d rather die than go through a shotgun wedding with a man who sees my baby and me as a mess he has to clean up!”
Barely realizing it, Jake flinched. Would she never stop punishing him for that word?
She’s not punishing you, fool. Can’t you see? a voice inside his head whispered. She truly believes it.
Yeah, he’d done a perfect job of turning Laila away from him; and how to bring her round again he didn’t know. His vows to care and protect them both only seemed to put her off; his passion garnered a response every time, but it didn’t sway her to his way of thinking.
So what did women want? What made them happy, apart from a vow of love and happy ever after he couldn’t in all honesty give her?
“Well? Aren’t you going to say something, Connors?” Brian Robbins demanded roughly, interrupting his reverie. “Is what she says true?”
Jake looked Brian straight in the eye. “Anything I said or felt before the baby is irrelevant. I want to marry her, and give our child my name.”
Brian’s brow lifted. “I think the Robbins name is a good enough one for any grandchild of mine—and obviously to Laila whatever you said or did to hurt her is relevant. So you don’t think her feelings are important?”
How was he supposed to answer that? Of course he cared about her feelings—far more than he was going to admit, with an emotional Laila ready to pounce on anything positive he said and make him her hero…and her lover.
He hadn’t deserved that miracle first time around, and he deserved it even less now, no matter how much he ached for it, day and night. Aching for Laila was his personal penance for being fool enough to make love to her, and he’d take the punishment.
In the face of the impossible—three blunt-spoken and too-perceptive people who saw straight through his stoic stance to the truth—he kept his mouth shut.
Robbins asked gruffly, “What kind of husband would that make for her…or for any woman? How do you expect her to think she could marry you when she knows you don’t care about her?”
“I didn’t say that,” he growled. “I will do my dead-level best to keep her and the baby safe and happy—”
Robbins cut through his little speech with a voice like a machete. “Bunkum. The lot of it’s just so much talk. What do you feel for my girl?”
The entire Robbins clan looked at him with extreme interest in the answer.
Except for Laila. She sat still and stared at her lap. She was flushed with embarrassment—no, he knew it was worse than mere discomfort when he saw her swipe at a tear trickling down her cheek: she was ashamed. Preparing herself for the humiliation she knew his answer would give in front of the people she loved and esteemed most.
God help him, would he never stop hurting her, this beautiful woman who’d never done anything but give to him, without taking a thing back? If they were alone right now, he’d take her in his arms and show her how good second best could be for them both…
If he hadn’t sworn to her he wouldn’t do just that. But he’d broken that vow so many times—just about every time he saw her—she wouldn’t think a thing about it anymore. He’d lost the ability to keep his hands off her from the moment she’d refused his proposal, and now he no longer knew if he did it to make her agree to marry him, or because he was branding her as his woman—or just because he couldn’t help himself. Her silky skin, bright-as-the-sun smile and generous kisses lit up all the night-dark places inside him, and he was fast becoming addicted.
Becoming? He was addicted, had been from her first touch the night of the party, when the feel of her gentle fingers brought him out of the darkness of never-ending memory. But giving in to his hunger would open up a whole new world of pain and fear. He had to keep his distance.
“Well?”
Feeling like a germ under a microscope—and one not living up to anyone’s expectations—he clung to the reiteration that felt like a broken record, even to him. “I’ll marry her as soon as she agrees. I want to stand by her, to raise our child together.”
“But she’s right—you don’t love her. Anyone can see it.” Glenn stated it as a rough, blunt fact. “Why don’t you love her? Everyone loves Lai! What more could you want? She’s a great girl, and would be a fantastic wife. A hundred guys would kill to take your place!”
Something streaked through him like wildfire, and just as hot and blistering. Those guys had better stay away from Laila from now on. She was his woman, no matter what she said; and if those men even looked at his woman—
“Glenn, please,” Laila whispered, sounding anguished, “please, stop it.”
Startled, Jake looked at her. Seeing her face—like that day in the barn, so lost and broken—he couldn’t hold out. He crossed the room, squatted in front of her and held her arms in his hands. “It’s all right.” He caressed her arms in reassurance. “They have the right. I don’t mind.”
If anything, the heartrending sadness grew. She lowered her gaze and shook her head. Her hair fell across her face, hiding her emotions…but her hands were trembling.
He wanted to hit something—preferably his thick skull. Having seen so much of Laila’s sweet bravado lately, how could he not know? How could he not have seen how much stress this family conference would put her through?
And yet still, she’d stuck to her guns. With the weight of family expectation burdening her shoulders, she wouldn’t take the easy way out he’d offered her. She’d chosen truth over the pretty lie. She still refused to take second best, even under family pressure to marry.
He couldn’t help but admire her strength of character. So
many women would have folded by now, given in under the weight of expectation and the thought of support in parenting, if nothing else. Laila wanted love—but she was stuck with him now. If only he could make her see he was giving her all he had left—his fidelity, his name and a father for their child.
Second best. Shotgun wedding. I’m just a mess for him to clean up…
There was only one way to snap her out of her sadness now—but he couldn’t kiss her in front of her family.
With gentle fingers, he tipped up her chin. “Laila, don’t you understand?” he whispered. “It’s not your problem. You’re beautiful, sweet, caring and loyal—all a normal man could want.” He shook his head, wishing he knew what to say to her. “It’s not you.”
But her eyes wouldn’t meet his. Sitting there so lost and alone, like one of those sad-faced china dolls with broken-hearted eyes that Sandy had loved as a girl.
He’d always hated those dolls…and still more, he hated the look on Laila. She was made for laughter and teasing, impudence and happiness, and he’d stolen it from her. He had to fix it.
Aching to reassure her, to bring back that joyous life that had drawn him to her from the start, he dropped a tender kiss on her cheek—it was wet—and one on her lips.
But after one sweet moment where she made that tiny, wonderful sound in her throat that told him she loved his touch, she pulled back. “I’m not a child to be placated with fairy tales or kisses better,” she snapped. “Don’t patronize me, Jake.”
Well, the life had returned to her, all right. She could do with the joy that still wasn’t there; but right now he’d take what he could get. She was no longer sad or passive—and that would do him for now…at least until they were alone.
He put his hands up in mock surrender. With a little smile he backed off, giving her space—and then remembered where they were.
Looking around with caution, he saw the knowing looks on every face in the room.
Brian Robbins wasn’t grinning, but the nod of satisfaction spoke volumes, as if he’d seen something in the minute’s byplay that he, Jake, hadn’t. As if he thought…
What were they all thinking—? What had he given away? Had Laila seen? What did she think? He couldn’t afford her to see any of the feelings growing in him. If she started to hope…
Now he was the one needing space; pins and needles flared along every nerve ending. He got back to his feet and backed right away from her, keeping his gaze on Brian, because looking at Laila suddenly felt too dangerous.
But he discovered that Brian’s gaze held as much to send gut-gnawing fear through him—for that look held knowledge.
Brian Robbins knew his real name.
Of course he knew—he’d probably always known. Brian Robbins would have every potential employee thoroughly checked out, for a criminal past if nothing else. He wouldn’t allow any ex-cons near his wife and kids without knowing it—and Jake wouldn’t have come one step inside the house while Laila was there if Brian hadn’t known every part of his background.
Who he was. His marital status, home, family and financial records. Brian probably knew his entire history—including Jenny and Annabel.
Don’t go there. Focus on the present, or you’ll lose Laila and the baby.
And though the rational part of him knew that was probably the best solution for them, he couldn’t be rational about Laila. He wished to God he could, but the sweetness of her, her life and light was filling up every dark corner of him, making him hope and want things he ought never hope to have.
It seemed Brian hadn’t told Laila about Jenny and Annabel—yet. He had to tell her first; but the very thought of it made his gut churn. He just didn’t know if he could do it. What would she think of him?
“Let us know when we can start arrangements for the wedding,” was all Brian said—but the words were as much threat as promise. Marry my girl.
“Anytime’s fine with me,” he said quietly, willing Brian to feel the commitment he’d made to Laila; but he hadn’t reckoned with Laila’s reaction to his words.
She shot to her feet, her face white and strained. “Well, isn’t that wonderful. You two work it all out, no doubt with Glenn and Drew’s input. Don’t forget to tell me where to show up, dress on and smile in place—because that’s all I’m good for. It’s obvious that my wishes don’t count in this shotgun wedding—not with any of you. But don’t throw engagement parties and bridal showers. If you expect me to smile and be happy in front of everyone, or to keep our dirty little secret, you’re wrong, because I will tell the truth if you force me into this.”
The silence was absolute because they all knew she meant every word.
“Lai, we only want what’s best for you,” Andrew said, his voice rough with caring.
She turned on her brother with a fierceness Jake would have given anything to see in her moments ago. “What’s best for me, Drew? A cover-up lie of a wedding so that nobody talks about the mighty Robbins clan, or remaining a single mother, going through the gossip, and waiting to find the man who’ll actually care about me? Is looking good in the community more important to you than whether I’m happy?” Her voice cracked on the last word.
Nobody dared answer that emotional bomb.
She almost stumbled as she left the room. Jake ran to help her, but she almost fell again avoiding him. “Not you. Not you!”
The door closed behind her with a small click that hit Jake like a gunshot.
He turned for the door, intending to follow her, to have it out.
At that moment Marcie stood up, her slim, tough Outback woman’s form taut. “I’ll go to her. None of you will listen in.” She looked at each man in turn, and her unspoken reproach left them all wilted, feeling ashamed and inadequate. “And not one of you—not you—” glaring at her husband “—or you—” she nodded at Jake “—will nag her again. She needs time to think about what she wants, and no men telling her what will make her happy. Not one of you has a clue.”
“Stop it, Marcie,” Brian snapped. “It’s Laila that doesn’t know how it feels to be a single parent. I do—and I’d never wish those years of fear and loneliness on a child of mine.”
“Yet you never thought twice about wishing it on Hayley Jesmond when she and Glenn broke up eight years ago. You advised him to not marry her because he was only twenty, and sent him away on business, leaving Hayley to lose the baby, thinking Glenn didn’t love her,” his wife interrupted him, her voice implacable. Flushing, Brian turned involuntarily to Glenn, whose white, averted face told of a pain that hadn’t subsided after eight years—as much pain as Laila’s face had shown a few minutes before. “Your children are adults, Brian. Let them make their decisions—right or wrong, the decisions belong to them.”
Brian’s face was a conflicting mixture of shame and mutiny. “But I don’t want her hurt!”
“She’s already hurting, and you don’t have the power to change that,” she replied, with a glance at Jake. “If you go to her, I daresay she’ll let you have your piece with her. You might even get your way—but you can’t guarantee her happiness, or force this young man to have feelings for Laila that may never come.” She sighed. “Brian, she can’t live under your shadow anymore. She came home to us in her time of need. Don’t drive her away now, by forcing her into a life she’s terrified will destroy her.”
She walked out, opening the door and closing it as quietly as Laila had…leaving the men as dazed and bewildered as if they’d survived a sudden blitz. And it was, really: the overwhelming knowledge that they, the mighty men of the last frontier, were wrong.
Jake looked around at the Robbins men. Yeah, they had the same astonished look he knew was on his face. Outspoken or quiet, the Robbins women were a formidable duo. With Marcie on her side, Jake was betting he wouldn’t be seeing Laila in a wedding dress anytime soon.
He set his jaw. No matter what it took, his child would bear his name—and his child’s mother was going to be his wife.
No
matter what it took to get Laila to marry him, he’d do it—even play dirty. He wasn’t going to lose. Not this time.
CHAPTER FIVE
“WHAT do you think you’re doing?”
Startled, Laila pulled on Starfire’s reins, turning around to face Jake, who stood at the edge of the exercising paddock, his face taut and challenging. Her brows lifted. “What I do every day, exercising the horses. Wallaby is a working station, you know,” she reminded him with gentle humor. “I’ve done it all my life.”
There was no lightening of his grim face. These days his anger and anxiety seemed carved in dark marble. “Not anymore.” He grabbed her hips and lifted her from the saddle with expert knowledge, dislodging her feet from the stirrups without a hiccup in his movement, sliding her down over his body and to the ground.
It was a superb movement; it might even have been romantic, but for her fast-rounding belly sliding against him instead of her once slender shape—and the seeming lack of awareness on his part that she’d touched his body at all.
“You’re not riding anymore, apart from basics in the paddock close to the house.”
Expecting the dictum, she didn’t gasp—if she gave any sign of weakness now, he’d win. She stepped back and planted her hands on her hips. “I hope you have the doctor’s signed statement forbidding riding for me? Otherwise you can take a hike. I don’t obey you.”
“You will obey me in this,” he retorted, leading Starfire back to her stall, much to the horse’s obvious displeasure. “I’ll talk to Brian about it if I have to. Last I checked the horses were part of Wallaby, and not for your personal riding pleasure.”
Laila stalked after him into the stable. “Last I checked you were a jackaroo, an employee, not the manager or the owner—and I don’t ride for mere pleasure,” she snapped, hurt at the implication that he still saw her as the Princess. “Starfire isn’t a working horse—she’s a breeding mare, and she’s mine. I bought, bred and reared her at our Ghost Gum estate. She’s thrown two champions so far, and interest in breeding with her is rising. She needs to keep in shape.”
Harlequin Romance Bundle: Crowns and Cowboys Page 21