Harlequin Presents January 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Ruthless Caleb WildeBeholden to the ThroneThe Incorrigible Playboy

by Sandra Marton

  Not a damn thing, except for her sudden inability to keep her mouth shut. Telling him the truth only complicated things. Nothing good would come of it, she of all people knew that.

  She was repeating her mother’s story, meeting some guy, having sex, getting pregnant—“knocked up,” to use her mother’s blunt terminology.

  Sage stared at herself in the mirror.

  That she, of all people, should bring a baby into this world bearing the stigma of illegitimacy...

  She knew that was an increasingly old-fashioned attitude. Not for her. Illegitimacy had defined her childhood, growing up in a small, very conservative town with a mother incapable of leaving the past behind.

  Was that was why she’d admitted the truth to Caleb? Had part of her hoped he’d hear the news and say...

  What?

  That he’d acknowledge the baby as his own? Assume a father’s role? A part-time role, at best. Alternate weekends, two weeks in the summer? Father-daughter dances, or father-son camping trips? Show up once in a while so that when other kids said, “This is my dad,” her child wouldn’t have to stand silent?

  Sage sank down on the closed toilet seat.

  All these weeks, she’d kept from thinking about things like that. She’d concentrated on the day-to-day stuff. Finding a place to live. Finding a job.

  Had it been deliberate? Had she been trying to avoid remembering her own childhood? No father. Not even a name or a picture, only her mother’s never-ending references to how her life had been ruined by a man.

  “He was a liar,” she’d say, “just like all men, sayin’ and doin’ whatever would get him into my pants. Any woman puts her trust in a man is a fool and deserves whatever she gets.”

  It was a blunt, harsh recitation of the facts of life, but it was effective.

  Sage had seen its validity all around her, starting in high school with girls who lost their hearts to boys who lied to get what they wanted and going all the way up to young actresses who fell for the I’m-going-to-make-you-a-star lies of producers.

  As for sex...

  She’d tried it. Once. Her first year in New York, mostly because she was tired of hearing girls say how great it was, but it wasn’t great at all so she’d never tried it again...

  Until that night three months ago, when it turned out that sex was—it was wonderful, with the right man, except he’d turned out to be exactly the kind her mother had described, out for sex and nothing else.

  “Sage?”

  The knock at the door jolted her.

  She leaped to her feet, turned on the water, made it sound as if she were doing something useful instead of trying to stop her world from spinning completely out of control.

  “Sage? Are you okay?”

  She almost laughed. She was fine, aside from being pregnant, alone and baffled as to why she’d told Caleb a truth he surely hadn’t wanted to know.

  “Yes,” she said brightly. “Just give me a minute.”

  She clutched the edge of the sink, bowed her head, took a couple of breaths.

  There was some old saying about the truth setting you free, but that was the thing with old sayings.

  Sometimes, they just didn’t make sense.

  Back to square one. Why had she told him?

  Maybe it was the way he’d taken charge of things today. It wasn’t just that he’d supported her sudden decision not to take the test, it was that he’d flat-out said he refused to let her take it.

  It had been a kind of pronouncement.

  I am Caleb Wilde. And I am in command here.

  The twenty-first-century woman in her should have balked, but she’d loved that he’d made her feel safe and wanted. He’d been her knight again, if only for a little while.

  “Sage!” The doorknob rattled. “If you’re sick—”

  She stood straight, looked her reflection in the eye, then turned to the door, unlocked it and flung it open.

  “I’m fine,” she said calmly.

  He didn’t look convinced. Well, why would he? She’d seen herself in the mirror. Her face was pale, her hair was lank; she looked like the “before” part of a vitamin ad.

  “In that case,” he said, “we need to talk.”

  “We did talk.”

  “Not yet.”

  Here it was. The handsome, rich, sometimes-nice, sometimes-not-nice guy she’d let turn her world inside-out was about to throw money at her in return for her promise to disappear from his life.

  It was an approach better than that of her own biological father, but not by much.

  “Look,” she said wearily, “let’s just cut to the chase, okay? I know what you’re going to say.”

  “Wow. Such a useful talent.”

  “And I can save you a lot of time. I want—”

  “You told me. A place to live. A job. Now, it’s my turn.”

  What she wanted was for him to go away but, okay, let him talk. She knew she’d never get rid of him until she did.

  “Fine,” she said, and swept past him into the cramped living room.

  Swept, Caleb decided, was the only word for it.

  How a woman in jeans and a T-shirt could seem regal was beyond him to comprehend, but then, pretty much everything about this particular woman was in that category.

  He’d never met a woman like her, and whether that was good or bad was still up for grabs.

  She took a chair.

  He took the couch.

  She sat straight, knees together, hands locked in her lap. She was pale, but other than that, she seemed okay.

  She’d been in the bathroom for so long, he’d started to wonder if she was sick. Didn’t pregnant women get sick easily? The queasy-belly thing?

  He didn’t know a thing about pregnant women.

  His three sisters were busy with their careers. Jake was a newlywed. Travis was—well, he was Travis. It would be a miracle if he ever settled on one woman, let alone decided to become a father.

  Not that he, Caleb, had made any such decision. This thing had been an accident, but if he’d been looking for a woman, for one to have a child with, Sage would have been a good choice.

  Maybe a perfect choice.

  She was bright. Interesting. Brave. And she was fun. Well, fun when she wasn’t going toe-to-toe with him and arguing, but the truth was, he liked that about her.

  Women never argued with him.

  They pretty much agreed with whatever he said. His sisters teased him about it.

  Must be nice to be king, Em had said, giggling, after she’d overheard one of his dates breathlessly assuring him that he was absolutely right about some political thing she’d probably never heard of until he’d mentioned it.

  Added to all that, Sage was, well, she was beautiful.

  Hair like sunlight. Eyes like the sea. Clichéd, but true. A rose-pink mouth that could curve into a smile or tremble with emotion, and that tasted indescribably sweet.

  She was damn near shapeless within that T-shirt but he didn’t have to see her body to know it.

  The rest of her, every inch, was emblazoned in his memory.

  Her breasts. The delicacy of their weight in his palms. The pale pink of her nipples. The way they pebbled when he caressed them, and the taste of them against his tongue.

  His gaze drifted lower.

  She didn’t look pregnant, although...yes. He saw it now. That slight convexity to her belly beneath the shirt. How would that gentle roundness feel under his hand as he moved it down to the heat between her thighs...?

  “Caleb?”

  He looked up.

  Did she know what he was thinking, what he was reliving, what he wanted now, had wanted all these past weeks?

  Every muscle in his body came alive on o
ne hot, sharp rush of sensation.

  He stood up, walked to the window, jammed his hands into his trouser pockets and stood staring out at the ugly street while he fought for control.

  This was not the time to get sidetracked.

  She’d been in the john long enough for him to have come up with a plan, one he could easily implement.

  For a couple of minutes, he’d considered not handling the details himself. A lawyer who represented himself had a fool for a client. That was what people said.

  But this was straightforward. Simple. He couldn’t find much about it she would object to, and that was a plus. Besides, even if she objected, it was how things were going to be.

  The law, and logic, were on his side.

  He inhaled, hard. Exhaled the same way. Put on his courtroom face. Then he turned and found that she was on her feet, too. He frowned, jerked his head toward the chair.

  “Sit down.”

  Her eyebrows rose. He couldn’t blame her. He sounded like a drill sergeant.

  “Sorry.” He forced a smile. “I only meant that we might as well be comfortable while we discuss our, ah, our—”

  “Situation,” she said. “Isn’t that what you called it?”

  He was losing ground and he hadn’t even started talking. Why was she standing there, arms folded? Why didn’t she sit down? Maybe she was waiting for him.

  Okay. He went back to the couch. Sat on the middle cushion. A second went by. Then she settled into the chair again.

  “Look, Caleb, I know you weren’t expecting—”

  “Sage, the thing is, I hadn’t expected—”

  They spoke at the same time. “You first,” he said.

  She nodded.

  “I don’t mean to sound hostile. In fact—in fact, I know I owe you an apology.”

  She licked her lips. Nerves, he knew, but it was a disconcerting sight, that kitten-pink tongue moistening a strip of flesh he knew was honeyed and tender.

  Hell.

  He shot to his feet again. Took as no-nonsense a stroll as a man could take through a room the size of a shoebox.

  “Yes,” he said briskly, “you do. You should have told me the truth right away, but I’m willing to forgive you.”

  “How nice of you.”

  So much for apologies. Still, he knew he deserved it. He sounded ridiculous, but no way was he going to admit that.

  “My point is, we have—we have a problem for which we need a solution.”

  He almost winced at the sound of his own words, so stodgy, so formal, so pathetically inadequate.

  Sage did more than wince. She fixed him with a look he could only think of as lethal.

  “I am,” she said, “going to have this baby!”

  “You’re going to...?” Caleb grimaced. “Did you think I was going to ask you not to?”

  “Just so we have that straight.”

  She was giving him the full treatment now. Icy glare. Raised chin. Folded arms.

  “Of course you’re going to have this baby.” He ran his hand through his hair. “That’s what I want to discuss. The baby. You. Me. How we’re going to handle this.”

  She relented, but barely.

  “I started to tell you before... I’ve made plans. Tentative ones, but—”

  “I assume you’ve seen a physician.”

  “A nurse-practitioner at a clinic. Yes.”

  “You’re not seeing a private ob-gyn?”

  There was something in his tone she didn’t like. She didn’t like the fact that he was standing and she was sitting, either. Had he done that deliberately, for a psychological advantage?

  Sage got to her feet. He was still bigger and taller and more imposing than she ever could be but at least she didn’t feel like a supplicant.

  “No,” she said calmly, “I’m not.”

  “You will, from now on.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Will I,” she said flatly.

  “And this apartment. You can’t stay here.”

  “Were you listening to me at all? I already said—”

  “What about your diet? Are you eating the right things?”

  “Gruel and alfalfa sprouts,” she said pleasantly. “How about you?”

  “We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about...”

  She knew the instant he got it. His face, all those gorgeous hard planes and angles, turned crimson.

  “Very amusing,” he snapped.

  “Look,” she said, relenting just a little, “I appreciate your concern but I’ve done just fine on my own so far, and—”

  “When are you moving?”

  “Soon.”

  “Where?”

  “I told you. Queens. Long Island, New—”

  “New Jersey. Yes, so you said.”

  “If your point is that I haven’t completed my plans yet—”

  “You don’t have ‘plans,’ you have ideas. There’s a big difference.”

  “Okay. There’s a difference. But—”

  “I want plans, not ideas, for the baby.”

  “My baby.”

  “Our baby.” He watched her as the words sank in—and realized they weren’t only sinking in for her, they were sinking in for him, too.

  Her baby.

  His baby.

  Their baby.

  She was carrying his child, and she’d be here and he’d be there, in Texas, a million miles away....

  So what?

  Distance was nothing, not in today’s world. Cell phones. Skype. Instant messaging. And, of course, the Wilde jets, always at his command.

  Caleb folded his arms. “Here’s what I’ve decided.”

  “What you’ve decided?”

  “Let me finish.”

  “Let me save you the trouble. I don’t want your money.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said, I don’t want your money. Oh, don’t look so shocked. I know where this is going.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Really.”

  “You’re going to write a check. And I’m going to sign some papers. At least, that’s your plan, but—”

  “What kind of papers?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “I said, since you seem to know what I’m going to say and do, what kind of papers am I going to ask you to sign?”

  “Releases. Whatever they’re called. Something that says yes, I’ve accepted your check and no, I won’t bother you in the future, and—”

  He moved fast; his hands were clasping her shoulders before she could get out of the way.

  “What part of what I said before didn’t you understand?”

  “Let go of me!”

  “Or did you not hear me when I said this was our baby.”

  “I heard you. It’s a figure of spee—”

  “Dammit,” Caleb said furiously, and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  What are you doing, Wilde?

  The still-rational part of his mind posed the question.

  The non-rational part gave up thinking.

  Maybe she did, too, because after a second of protest, she went up on her toes, wound her arms around his neck and parted her lips to his.

  The kiss was everything he’d remembered.

  Hot. Deep. Electric. It made everything else unimportant.

  His arms tightened around her.

  “I have never stopped wanting you,” he whispered.

  “I’ve wanted you every day, every night, every minute—”

  He kissed her again. She kissed him back. Then he swung her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, to the bed where all of this had begun.

  He undressed her
quickly. No finesse. Not now. Not when it had been so long since he’d held her, naked, against him.

  He tore off his own clothes. Everything went flying.

  “Caleb,” she said, raising her arms to welcome him, and he knelt between her thighs and entered her, hard and fast.

  She was ready.

  Hot. Wet. Sobbing his name at the fierce pleasure of his possession.

  “Too quick,” he groaned, “too quick...”

  He tried to hold back.

  She wouldn’t let him.

  Because it wasn’t too quick.

  Not for her.

  Not for him.

  He clasped her hands. Raised them above her head. Sank into her again. Drew back. Sank in deeper, deeper...

  “Caleb,” she whispered, and his groan of release joined her cry of fulfillment as they flew off the edge of the world.

  * * *

  It seemed a long time before their breathing returned to normal.

  “You okay?” Caleb said softly.

  Sage smiled. “Yes.”

  “The baby...?”

  “The baby’s fine.”

  He kissed her. Then he rolled to his side with her safely in his arms.

  “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”

  She laid her hand against his cheek. “Positive.”

  Slowly, he trailed his index finger over her lips, down her throat, touched each nipple with feathered strokes.

  “You have beautiful breasts, sweetheart.”

  She blushed. God, he loved that blush, he thought as he kissed his way down her body, to her belly.

  And yes, it was ever so gently rounded.

  “I just started showing,” she said softly, as if she’d read his mind.

  Showing, he thought. Her belly. Her womb. His seed, and now, his child.

  “It makes you look even more beautiful.”

  She smiled again. “You think?”

  “I know.”

  “Mmm.” She wove her fingers through his hair. “Caleb?”

  “Yes?”

  “I really meant—I don’t want you to think—I mean, I don’t want you to feel—”

  He silenced her with a kiss.

  “This is our baby, Sage. I’m only sorry I wasn’t here for you before this.”

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he said gruffly. “Please. There’s nothing to cry about.” He moved over her, looked down into her sweet, sweet face. “We’re going to do this together. Understand? There’s no more you, no more me. There’s only us. Okay?”