by CC MacKenzie
Was the baby his?
And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Eve wouldn't be standing in front of him looking as if her world had ended if it wasn't his baby. She was an honourable woman. Her honesty and up front attitude was a large part of what made her tick and was a big part of why he was crazy about her.
Watching him carefully, she folded her arms across her chest. "Before you say one word you might later regret," she warned, her voice like frost in January. "I just want to say that I know we were never exclusive, but I don't sleep with two men at the same time. I don't date another man if I'm sleeping with another. Just call me old-fashioned." The bitterness in her voice, the self-disgust he heard made him want to reach out to her, to offer comfort.
Brain still reeling from the word pregnancy, he cleared his throat and the words tumbled out. "I haven't slept with another woman since I met you."
Again those amazing eyes, diamond bright, flicked between his and seemed to accept his statement of fact as the truth. A wave of relief surged through him so big and so powerful it made the room spin.
He took a step toward her.
"Why don't you sit down? Would you like a drink?" Stupid question since she's pregnant you fool. "No, sorry, you can't drink. Tea, coffee?"
"Nothing. Thank you."
It had been nine months since he'd first set eyes on her and he hadn't been the same since. And seven long weeks since he'd last set his eyes and had his hands on her.
Matt recognised he was extremely tired, his brain punchy, his eyes prickly from not enough sleep.
And that in spite of her news he was thrilled to see her.
Damn, he'd missed her.
Instead of sitting down, Eve moved to pick up her coat and her bag.
And it hit him that she wasn't staying.
Something like panic rose into his chest.
Where the hell did she think she was going?
"Just a minute. You think you can walk in here drop a bombshell like that and walk right back out? Not a chance, babe."
She tipped her head back, studied him through her lashes.
It was a move so familiar to him it turned him on.
Then she stepped right into his personal space, went chin to chin with him and it gave him a real kick in the balls. This was the Eve that he knew and loved. And she smelt fucking amazing.
"Call me babe in that tone once more and trust me you'll never father another child," she promised.
His chin nudged hers and he saw he response in those fabulous eyes.
Murder.
"You're not leaving," he growled.
"Watch me. Move it."
He didn't step back.
Instead he thought to hell with it and his mouth was on hers.
She didn't kiss him back and that was a first. He didn't touch her because he couldn't trust himself. His hands bunched into fists at his side. Now an emotion that he recognised as blind fear made him try harder. The tip of his tongue traced the seam of her tightly closed mouth and he caught the tiny quiver that ran through her. Relief that she wasn't unaffected made him close his eyes tight. At least it was better than nothing.
He lifted his head and stared into tawny eyes filled to the brim with a desperate need for violence.
"Do you know what I've missed most about you?" he asked in a voice that wasn't quite steady.
She shook her head.
"Your smell and your taste."
Her eyes stayed unblinking on his.
"We're not having sex," she said.
Matt had to bite down hard on his bottom lip not to laugh because he just knew she would die before giving an inch. Then wondered what was wrong with him that he could find humour in their situation.
"I think that horse has well and truly bolted, babe."
Fury hissed and spit in her eyes as her finger poked into his shoulder.
"You don't get to call me babe. You're the one who didn't have the courtesy or the decency to return my messages or my calls. You're the one who left me to deal with this mess. To attend doctor and hospital appointments alone while you partied across three continents."
The battery-acid words of a wounded and very angry woman buzzed like angry bees in Matt's brain and the stinging truth hit him where it hurt. In his pride and his ego. He'd let her down in the worst possible way. Because he couldn't deal with his complex feelings for her. And by letting her down he'd let himself and their baby down, too.
A single word pealed an alarm in his brain.
"Hospital? Have you been sick?"
Her eyes flayed him, there was no other word for it.
"Morning, noon, and night for six weeks. It's too little too late for concern now, Matt. The only reason I'm here is to do the right thing. You have a right to know that in six months you are going to be a father. That's it. I've done my duty and my conscience is clear. I don't need financial support. I'm more than capable of looking after my child." She took a shaky breath before continuing in a voice that was no more than a whisper, "I know what it's like to grow up without a father. So if you want access to the baby I won't stop you. But before you do I want you to think long and hard about what the responsibility of having a child means and what it brings. You won't be able to jump in and out of my child's life whenever it suits you. The heart of a child is a precious and vulnerable thing. A child gives love without conditions, without expectations. If neglected a child's heart can be utterly broken. And I will not allow you to break my child's heart."
Matt thrust his hand through his hair, scrubbed his neck as he studied the woman standing before him. He recognised the pain, anxiety and a deep sadness in her voice and her eyes.
Wow, that was a lot for a man to take in from a woman who'd been his lover for months.
A woman who'd kept the part that she didn't have a father a secret.
And now he wondered what other secrets she'd kept from him.
Chapter Five
Eve recognised shock in those vivid baby blues.
Matt was the king of love 'em and leave 'em satisfied and happy.
Like a fool she'd thought she could handle a fling with Mr. Tall, Dark and Sexy. On the screen his physical presence made women swoon. The more fanciful among his rabid fans had called his face criminally beautiful. A phrase that had made those smooth lips curl in disgust and made her laugh till her sides hurt. But she had to admit that in the flesh Mathias Carter was something special. Very special. As a model she mixed with stunning men day in and day out. But Matt's build, like a modern day gladiator, those blue eyes, the black brows and black hair with the strong chin were unique. It was the intensity in his eyes that killed her every single time. She'd responded to the innate gentleness that he tried so hard to hide behind the characters he portrayed. He was a talented creative and at thirty-two he was riding high on the crest of the wave, making the most of what could be his short time in the spotlight.
He'd made it clear right from the beginning that his career took his focus, his time, and his commitment. And she, like an idiot, had gaily mirrored his words, safe in the knowledge that they were two people cut from the same cloth.
The first time he'd made love to her rather than pure sex had been the time she'd fallen for him. The way the back of his hand had softly stroked her cheek, tucked a stray hair behind her ear before kissing her with a tenderness she'd never thought to experience, had utterly destroyed her. The long slow slip and slide of his body as he'd over-filled her, as they'd rode wave after wave to Nirvana together, had stopped her heart. They hadn't just made love, they'd be forever joined body and soul in a way she'd never forget. And at that moment he'd become the love of her life. For a split second she'd swear under oath that he had felt it too. And then the shutters had come down and although he'd smiled and pretended nothing special had happened between them, she saw that the look in his eyes for her had changed. His blue eyes had become too wary and too watchful. So she'd tried to take a step back, knowing full well she was on the road to the disaster of a ruined
heart. There was a strange magnetic pull between them and she knew he felt it too.
She also knew Matt didn't want it.
The fact might have broken her heart, but that was his right, she admitted.
Now she stood watching the man she loved more than life try to cope with the emotional grenade she'd tossed right into the centre of his organised little life and blown it to smithereens.
She'd shot from the lip.
And meant every single word of it.
Matt had a choice to make.
To be a part of his child's life or to walk away and never look back.
The papers in her bag she'd had drawn up by her lawyer would have him sign away his rights as a father. And when she judged the time was right she would ask him to make a choice. A choice that would change both of their lives forever. Perhaps it wasn't fair of her not to give him time to think. Well, too bad, because life wasn't fair. If anyone understood the truth of that statement she did. She had a child to defend and she would protect it with every single breath in her body.
But one thing troubled her.
And it troubled her a lot.
With no siblings or extended family she was quite alone in the world.
Actually with no extended family that mattered, she corrected.
What if something bad happened to her?
Who would look after her baby?
Just because a man fathered a child didn't mean that when that child was left alone in the world he'd come riding to the rescue. Her mother's sudden death when Eve was seventeen had proved that. Her bastard of a father hadn't even come to her mother's funeral or asked how his daughter was coping. How pathetic was that? For six years she'd buried the hurt that burned so deep it lived in the very marrow of her bones. She'd promised herself that if she was ever blessed her child would never endure that kind of pain. Never. Instinctively her heart urged her to give Matt, the father of the baby growing inside her, one chance. The voice of logic reminded her that he'd left her without a backward look so how could she possibly trust him with her child's heart?
And that was the problem because there were too many, 'What if?' questions endlessly circling her brain.
What if Matt walked away?
What if she got sick?
She was healthy, but accidents happened.
Her mother had been killed by a random occurrence in the home, a fall downstairs that had broken her neck.
Too much time to think had made the problem of her child's future security a huge issue in Eve's mind. She'd told her agency that she wouldn't be able to fill existing modelling contracts because it wouldn't be long before it was obvious she was pregnant. Her breasts had already got bigger and were too sensitive to touch. Right on the heels of her agency's surprise had come the burning cross-examination of the identity of her baby's father. So far she'd managed to dodge the subtle and not-so-subtle enquiries, but Eve knew she was living on borrowed time. Just the thought of all the press speculation she'd endure when they discovered that Mathias Carter was the father of her baby was enough to make her feel physically sick, exposed and too vulnerable. And overburdened by sense of aloneness, an aloneness she'd carried with her, her whole life.
Time to face facts.
Mathias Carter didn't want her.
It hurt.
There was nothing she could do about it except to keep moving forward with her life.
A bone weary tiredness that had dogged her for weeks now threatened to floor Eve.
She needed to get away from him, to lie down and to think about what she was going to do next. Any hope that perhaps Matt was going to step up and take responsibility had been dashed by his shock and behaviour. The last thing this superstar needed was a woman, even the mother of his child, in his life.
The feeling of being emotionally overwhelmed crushed her, made her chest ache. And she admitted that she'd been keeping all the emotions locked up nice and tight until she'd seen Matt and told him. Her breath hitched in her throat and the room swam, but Eve ordered herself to hold it together.
She'd feel better once she'd had a little lie down.
Too much stress was bad for the baby.
Her attempt to move around Matt was frustrated when he mirrored the manoeuvre.
"Let me past," she said, keeping her eyes glued to his wide chest. "I've booked a room. We'll talk after you've had time to think." She heard the plea in her voice, all fight having drained from her body. When he didn't respond her gaze flew to his and she realised those amazing blue eyes were studying her very, very carefully.
Ignoring her request, he took her bag and her coat and placed them at his feet.
Big hands rested on her shoulders and she wanted to melt right into him.
His forehead rested on hers and the scent of him, familiar and so potently male had her squeeze her eyes tight against the surge of a tremendous arousal. It had been so long since she'd felt his touch, his mouth, his body sliding in and out of hers.
"We're going to deal with this together. Okay?" he said in a tone that made her heart shiver. And the gentleness in his deep voice, a voice that stopped a million hearts across the world, made it difficult for her to swallow.
She nodded.
"And I want to say I am very sorry that I didn't answer your calls and your messages. I'm sorry that you've had to go through all the worry and anxiety alone."
His head lifted from hers and a gentle finger slid down her cheek to tip up her chin.
Her eyes stayed glued to his mouth for an endless moment before they flicked up to meet his eyes. And the desire she read there both terrified and thrilled her. And then his mouth was on hers, so gentle, so careful, so thoroughly did he kiss her that the tingle of it reached right down to her toes.
Then she was in his arms, held close to his chest as his cheek rested on top of her head and he swayed them both from side to side. There was nothing sexual in the tight embrace. It was simply a man offering a woman comfort and it broke Eve's fragile heart in two.
"Tell me you'll stay here with me to talk this through," he said.
Calling herself all kinds of names including pathologically stupid, she let loose a long held breath. "Okay." Her eyes met his. "But we're still not having sex."
His eyes went gentle and soft. She read the innate kindness that seemed to pull her into him.
"There's another bedroom, you're very welcome to have it if it makes you feel better." Then those blue eyes again scrutinised her face. "Tired?"
Since she hadn't slept for weeks trying to pin him down, add in the emotional rollercoaster of telling him her news and she was very weary.
She nodded. "Exhausted."
He lifted her bag and coat and took her arm guiding her down a short corridor.
He opened double doors into a plush room with a bed the size of a lake.
At her raised brows, his mouth kicked. "Two bedrooms. Mine is the same but at the other end of the suite."
He placed her bags on a small couch, which matched the fabric of the floor length curtains, a rich ruby red edged with gold silk, and turned down the thick white comforter on the bed. That bed and the familiarity of the way he folded down the cover made a hot lump wedge in her throat.
"Matt, I don't think this is a good..."
Too intense blue eyes stayed levelly on hers.
"Get some rest. I promise not to put you under any pressure, okay?" he said softly in a voice that destroyed all her plans to stick to her guns. To tell him she didn't need him. Why had she thought she could do this? Was she insane? When had she ever been able to put herself before Matt's wants and Matt's needs?
God, when he looked at her like that with those eyes so blue they were almost preternatural, it would take a stronger woman than her to say no to him.
"Okay."
Chapter Six
The scent of fresh roses awoke Eve from her nap.
There were at least two dozen long stems arranged in a tall clear vase. Frost-white buds were just beginn
ing to open. How beautiful. Checking the time on her cell phone she realised she'd been asleep for two hours. Rolling onto her back she stared up at the intricate mouldings on the ceiling and took stock of her body, especially her stomach. No queasiness, thank God. She'd no idea why they called it morning sickness because it hit her at anytime of the day or night. Then her eyes slid back to the roses and she spotted the little card tucked inside.
Gingerly she rolled to sit on the side of the bed and stood.
No dizziness, another plus.
For a drawn-out moment Eve studied the small white envelope secured by a clear plastic stem in the flowers before she plucked it from the holder and opened it.
You look beautiful when you're asleep.
You will be an amazing mother.
Signed Matt.
The room spun, not with morning sickness, but with a light-headed kind of excitement.
Then she caught herself. For the sake of the baby, don't get your hopes up, a little voice warned. The flowers and the card did not mean Mathias Carter had a secret hankering to be the father of the year.
Her cell buzzed with a voice message.
She pressed speaker.
"Eve."
And went utterly still as the deep voice that turned the knees of millions to jelly said her name.
"It's Matt. Sorry, hate these things. Of course you know it's me. Sorry. I hope you managed to rest. And the flowers are from me. Shit. I mean of course they're from me. I've popped out to get a little something for Bronte Ferranti. Ah, she's my friend Nico's wife, just in case you think..." There was a pause and a muttered curse that made her bite down hard on her bottom lip. "They've invited me and... er... you... I mean us... to their place for dinner tomorrow. Casual. By the way Nico owns Ludlow Hall. Actually I think you already know that. He's cool and you'll like him, them, the family. Ring me if you need anything." There was a pause while he took a breath. "So I'll see you later. Bye."
Grinning at how nervous one of the best actors of his generation sounded leaving a simple voicemail, she listened to it again. No wonder he sounded stressed. It wasn't everyday a man was told he was going to be a father.