by Diane Saxon
Frozen to the spot, he followed her retreat with his gaze, the bitter taste of regret filling his mouth. At least she hadn’t taken off her icepick heels and hit him with them.
In the uncomfortable silence Jack dropped his gaze to the bunch of roses he still clutched in his hand.
He’d flown the goddamned Atlantic Ocean to see her. He’d never been on a plane in his life. But he’d risked it for her. Risked everything. His heart, his mind, his pride.
He shook his head and flexed his jaw. She hadn’t done any real damage. The sting of the slap had hurt his heart more than his cheek. He glanced at the other man and gave a slight shrug. It wasn’t the guy’s fault Kate was so fickle. There was no point causing a fight with him, although Jack would have liked nothing better than to plunge his fist into the handsome young man’s face.
With another shake of his head he started toward the gate. His visit was clearly over.
The other man stepped into his path, his narrowed eyes chips of ice. From his quiet stance, his confident demeanor, the bet was he was military. But Jack’s fight wasn’t with him. It wasn’t with anyone. He just wanted to go home.
“Excuse me, my mistake.”
The younger man spread his feet and puffed out his chest. A wintry smile whipped across his features, and his pure English tones were clipped. “I think you owe Kate an apology.”
An apology? The guy hadn’t a clue, but it wasn’t his fight.
Jack made an attempt to side-step him, but the guy just got in his way again. Kate had made it quite clear she didn’t want him there, and it was the last place he wanted to be.
“Why did you come here?”
Jack didn’t see any point in engaging in a discussion, but it seemed as though the other guy needed to know. Maybe it was only right to be honest, after all, Jack held an oversized bunch of flowers in one hand and a gift box in the other.
“I came to marry her.”
Blond eyebrows shot up over intelligent eyes. “Right answer.” He nodded, shuffled the bags he was holding into one hand, and then extended the other to Jack, a wide smile spreading across his face. “I’m Michael. Kate’s brother.”
The steady rush of relief through his head almost deafened Jack.
“Why don’t you give her a minute? She’ll be easier to deal with when she calms down a bit.”
Doubt curled through Jack, but he tucked the package under his arm and reached out to shake Michael’s hand anyway.
“For your information, Kate was pregnant when she arrived back from America.” Michael nodded at the flowers and package. “I assume from your reaction, and hers, it makes the baby yours.”
Everything inside of Jack stilled. Righted. The pain in his chest eased. Of course it was his. How could it possibly be anyone else’s? She loved him. She’d told him she loved him, and the woman didn’t lie.
He grinned with sudden confidence. “I knew that.”
Michael smiled back. “I thought you might. You seem like an astute man.” He turned toward the front door, key in hand, signaling for Jack to follow. “Just so you know, if you break her heart, I’m going to have to break your head.” Michael threw him an affable smile as he continued to speak as though he hadn’t just threatened Jack. Jack didn’t care. He was never going to hurt Kate. He’d already done enough of that.
Michael stared at him a moment longer and then nodded at the flowers. “You might want to bring those roses with you. She’ll like them when she takes the time to look at them, if you don’t end up wearing them that is.” His wicked laughter followed him as he entered the house.
Jack wandered through the old cottage, ducking his head to avoid the low ceiling beams. He placed the roses and package on the kitchen counter and made his way over to the French windows to watch Kate, while Michael put away the shopping.
“I suggest you go easy on her, pregnant women can get a little tetchy. She’s been waiting a long time for you.” Michael grinned across at him as Jack tried the door and stepped out onto the moss-covered patio. Kate’s brother seemed to take far too much pleasure in the situation.
Pots and hanging baskets were strewn all around in displays of late summer arrangements. The cool breeze whispered over his bare arms while he made his way across the thick springy lawn. Hell, if this was their summer, how did they survive? The land may be vibrant greens and golds, but there was no warmth in the air. He should have thrown on some layers, brought his winter clothes.
He gave a small shudder as he spied Kate at the bottom of the garden on a child’s swing. Feet naked, her shoes kicked off in the middle of the lawn, she rocked in a gentle motion back and forward.
Shame filled him as she leaned her head on the hand holding onto the rope, her sadness palpable.
He’d hurt her again. With his assumption, his whip of temper, his accusation.
As he drew near, her back shot ramrod straight.
“I thought you’d left. Why didn’t you leave?” Her clipped English accent was even more pronounced.
He’d swallowed his own pride, he only hoped she could set hers aside too.
“I’ve come a long way to see you, seemed a bit of a waste to turn straight around and go back.” He stepped in front of the swing, held onto the rope, and then slid his hand along it as he hunkered down in front of her. He smiled, but she refused to meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry I hit you. I’ve never hit a soul in my life.” Her stiff apology made him smile even wider. He checked out his face with his hand and flexed his jaw, but the sharp sting had already subsided, leaving no lingering aftershock. He’d had worse.
“Perhaps we can work on your right hook.” He reached out to take her hand in his. Her soft palm probably hurt more than his face. Relieved she didn’t jerk it away, he smoothed his thumb over her fine skin.
“So, you’re having my baby.” He stretched his hand out to rest it on her abdomen. She flickered a glance toward him and then away again.
“Who says it’s yours?”
“Michael.”
“I can’t believe he told you.”
“Perhaps he thought I had a right to know.”
She turned her turbulent eyes onto him and almost burned him with their ferocity.
“What difference does it make? You didn’t want me before. It doesn’t change things now just because I’m having your baby.”
It changed nothing for him either. He’d chased her half-way across the world. It was simple. “We’ll get married.”
“No.” Shock registered on her face as she lurched up from the swing, almost pushing him on his ass as she streaked past him and across the garden to look out over the fields.
“What do you mean no?” He followed close on her heels. The heart he’d thought had settled suddenly bumped up again.
She whipped around to face him, her delicate eyebrows pulled low over ferocious eyes. “Not a chance. I won’t marry you for the sake of my baby. I’m quite capable of bringing up a child on my own.” She poked him in the chest. “You didn’t want a relationship, Jack. You made that quite clear. I didn’t know I was pregnant until the day I left.”
He stared into her animated face. His conscience wrenched at his heart and refused to let him shove aside the guilt for what he’d put her through while she continued to rail at him. She gave him another sharp prod.
“The reason I never told you was because you and your paranoia would think it was a trap, that I’d become pregnant deliberately, that I’d gone one step further than Charlotte. But I’m not Charlotte, and it wasn’t deliberate.”
She side-stepped him before he had a chance to react and raced up the lawn, bending to scoop up her shoes. The smooth curve of her ass distracted him for a moment until she took off toward her house and left him to dash after her.
The woman could move, he’d just never noticed how fast before.
He placed a hand on her shoulder to slow her down. It didn’t work.
“Who the hell are all those people in your house, lo
oking out of your windows at us?”
She jerked to a halt, her breath heaving through her chest. “That’ll be my parents, my sister, and her family. They’ve come for Sunday lunch.” Kate brushed his hand from her shoulder as though she flicked off a fly.
Subjected to a twilight zone experience as he stepped into the house behind Kate, Jack was introduced to her family by Michael while she disappeared into the kitchen.
All he wanted to do was run after her, resolve matters, make her understand how he felt, but the crowd of people swallowed him up and prevented him from getting any closer to Kate.
He wasn’t quite sure why they were so civilized. If it had been his family and one of his cousins had turned up pregnant by a man they believed hadn’t taken responsibility, said man would get a severe ass kick. In fact, burial under the patio would not be out of the question.
However, Sunday dinner was almost ready and he’d just been invited to join them.
“We prepared it before we went out for a few extras,” Michael explained, an amused glimmer in his eyes. “Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. We needed horseradish sauce for Dad and some ice cream for the kids.”
Bemused, Jack craned his head so he could keep an eye on Kate, who’d flitted into another room.
∙•∙
Stiff with fury, Kate slapped cutlery on the dining table and watched everyone carry bowls of food over and take their seats. She gave one last glance around to ensure everything was in order before she joined them and slipped into her own chair.
How could her family possibly invite a total stranger to join them for dinner? A stranger who’d made her pregnant! It was surreal, but they carried on like normal. As though nothing out of the ordinary was going on while her brain went into overdrive.
She peered at him from beneath her lashes while her mother consumed his time and attention by piling his plate high with food. If she gave him more than two Yorkshire puddings, there was going to be trouble.
What was he doing there? He’d crossed the Atlantic after he’d sworn no one would ever get him on a plane. Why hadn’t he left when she’d raced to the security of her family? Coward that she was.
He glanced up from where Michael had placed him at the other end of the table between their mother and little Rosie.
A rush of heat blazed over her skin as his dark eyes met with hers.
At the touch of her mother’s hand on his arm, Jack turned away, but the passion of his stare ignited a small flame of hope.
Kate ducked her head to apply herself to her own dinner, but not before she caught his quick shudder and the rash of gooseflesh spreading over his bare arms.
More effective than U.S. air conditioning was the thick stone of her small cottage. Even on the hottest days of summer the place kept cool. But it wasn’t hot. A chill breeze had blown in bringing the temperatures down in a sharp turn she’d welcomed. The man had evidently not been warned about British summers.
She tried to hide a sly smile, but Lydia caught her glance. The cool green of her sister’s eyes overflowed with anxiety, but there was nothing Kate could do but flash her an apologetic smile. She’d have to explain once she understood the situation herself.
Kate allowed her gaze to wander around the dining room at the flowers her mother had already dealt with.
He’d bought her flowers. Tons of them. Dark, velvet, red roses, enough to fill three vases. A secret quiver of excitement snaked through her veins.
When she caught his gaze again, she blinked at him, confused by the wide, confident smile.
“What are you doing here?” She lifted the knife she’d been about to carve her beef with and pointed it at him.
He squinted at her from across the dining room table as though he didn’t understand the question. It was perfectly simple in her mind.
“What are you doing here, Jack?”
“I believe he said he’d come to marry you, Kate.”
When did he say that to her father? When she set the table? Stunned by her quiet father’s intervention, Kate gaped at him. Unperturbed by his daughter, his smile stretched his features, making his green eyes crinkle at the corners.
She burst out a rude snort and earned a warning look from her mother. “He only offered to marry me because I’m having his baby.”
“Is this true?” Her father took a long moment to scrutinize him, but Jack gave him an easy smile before he shot her a quick wink to make her speechless.
Who the hell was he, that he could come into her home and steal the hearts of her family without her permission?
“No. I said we should get married. She said she wouldn’t marry me for the sake of the baby.”
“So you’ve asked her to marry you?”
Jack drew in a long breath, and a deep furrow formed between his brows while he chewed on his beef and then swallowed. “No, sir. I said we should get married.”
Kate glanced at her mother, eyes alight with the desire to join in, but the woman stayed silent. Her mother evidently didn’t consider they needed the big guns yet. She’d hold herself in reserve and kick Jack’s ass right out of Kate’s house the moment she felt control slipping. Right now, it appeared as though her father had him where he wanted him, and it served the cowboy right.
“Not the same thing, son. You might want to marry her, but a woman needs to be asked. Cajoled, romanced. They need to feel loved. Do you love her?”
Jack cleared his throat, and where embarrassment coursed through Kate, setting fire to her cheeks at the personal turn in conversation, Jack met her father’s gaze with a direct one of his own. “Yes, sir, I do.”
She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Unable to eat any more, she placed her knife and fork side by side on her plate and curled her fingers around each other while she rested them in her lap.
“And does our Kate love you?”
She bowed her head and blinked at the hot wash of tears as they filled her eyes.
“She told me she did. Right before she left.”
“And you came after her?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You took your time.”
Unable to help herself, she snorted out a laugh that came out more like a desperate sob. She pressed her fingers against her lips to stop any further sound coming out, but as she glanced down the length of the table, her mother shifted, lips tightened.
Almost finished with his dinner, Jack also laid down his cutlery. “I thought she was coming back.”
“Ah.” Her father nudged his empty plate away and studied Kate. Her lips wobbled as she tried to muster a smile for him while her heart filled with such love for her family. “Well then, I suggest you try again. This time, ask her, son, ask her!”
Jack turned to face her, apparently undeterred by the avid interest from her family. He slipped from his chair and made his way around the table. Her heart stumbled around in her chest as he went down on one knee by her side.
“Kate.” Her fingers trembled in his as he lifted her left hand, smoothed his lips in a gentle kiss on the back of it. His soft brown eyes gazed deep into hers and melted her heart. “Will you marry me?”
With as much dignity as she could muster, Kate removed her left hand from his, stroked his cheek, and stretched her lips in a pained smile.
“No, thank you.”
Her mother and Lydia let out horrified gasps, her father a weary groan, and Michael gave a hoot of laughter.
Jack’s eyebrows snapped together as he reared his head back, the soft expression of a moment ago turned to flint, but he stayed on his bended knee by her side. “Why in God’s name not?”
“Because I won’t be accused of trapping you into a marriage you didn’t want. We had an agreement not to get involved, not to get in too deep.” She gave an apologetic glance at her family. “It was my mistake. I fell in love with you, Jack, but it’s not your fault you can’t return those feelings. I’m not going to be the noose around your neck. When I get married, it will be for the right reasons.”
“What better reason than we’re having a baby together?”
“That’s the worst reason in the world, Jack.”
In the silence, her mother tutted and slammed her arms over her ample chest. Her father came to his feet.
“Why don’t you tell our Katie why you came to see her in the first place, son?” His sympathetic tones came from beside Jack as he pressed a small package into his hands. She had a vague recollection of Jack holding it when he arrived.
She turned her puzzled stare on him. “Jack?”
“No.” He pulled the prettily wrapped present into his chest in a protective hold, and a ruddy flush swept over his cheeks.
“Oh, come on.” Curiosity got the better of her, and she reached over to take a firm hold of the present. “I assume you bought it for me, with the roses.”
His hands gripped it for a moment while he shook his head, laughter bubbling out of him in short spurts. “I don’t think you’ll want to open it right now. Why don’t you leave it until later, when we’re alone?”
“Jack.” It wasn’t like him to be bashful. Kate gave a quick tug and Jack let go. Interested to see what he’d bought her—it obviously wasn’t a ring—she carefully unraveled the ribbon on the flat, oblong parcel, letting the wrapping paper fall open.
“You may not want to do that.”
She ignored his low, whispered warning and lifted the white lid off the box, tilting her head to one side as her brain took a moment to process what her eyes could see.
Bright pink feathered pasties with crystal beads glittered at her from where they lay on their bed of white velvet.
“My goodness. I think perhaps you should marry the man.”
Kate snapped the lid of the box closed as her horrified gaze clashed with her mother’s. She opened and closed her mouth, but no sound emerged. A quiet little snicker came from her sister to surprise her.
Her father stepped closer, pointing his finger at the box. “What are they?”
Kate couldn’t even splutter out a reply, her brain had frozen solid allowing no thoughts to pass through.
Her mother turned her impish blue sight on them both and patted her husband’s arm with affection. “It’s just a pair of fancy earrings, Jim dear.” Rich laughter bubbled out of her. “I think maybe we should give these two some privacy.” She came to Kate’s side, gently slipped the box from her numb fingers, and handed it to Lydia, whose face was a bright scarlet. “Lydia, dear, take the children upstairs for a little while, and put this somewhere safe. Michael, come take a walk in the garden with your father and I.”