Baby Be Mine

by Rosie Praks

  “Those shoes. They’re too high for me. Plus, I didn’t expect to walk that far.”

  “Where were you going?”

  “Somewhere.”

  “Where is somewhere?” Hunter reiterated, starting to get irritated with Clarice’s monosyllable answers.

  “A hotel,” Clarice said, looking away.

  “A hotel!” Hunter sputtered.

  A hotel? What would Clarice be doing at a hotel? And about this hotel, was it like a normal hotel or a love hotel? He was very curious. By this stage, his heart was almost leaping from his throat.

  “Why?”

  “I’m meeting with someone.”

  Shit. It must be a love hotel, then. No way was he taking her to a love hotel.

  “Who is this someone?” Hunter asked again, almost bursting at the seams when she wouldn’t give him a straight answer. “Older than me or younger than me? A man or a woman?

  Clarice stared at Hunter, wide-eyed. What’s with all these grilling questions? And why was he so interested in the person she was going to meet anyway?

  “He’s older than you, if you must know.”

  “So it’s a man, then,” Hunter said, looking directly at Clarice like he was accusing her of having an affair. “And older than me too. Must be some old grandpa, then.” He pretended to laugh. “What does he do? Where does he work?”

  “That’s my personal business,” Clarice yelled when he refused to stop firing questions at her. Dear heavens! What was wrong with him today? Why was he acting so strange and being so nosy?

  “Fine. Then what kind of business do you have at this hotel?” Hunter couldn’t help asking.

  “Also my business,” Clarice said again.

  “I’m not taking you, then, if you won’t tell me.” Hunter gave out his ultimatum. He refused. He refused straightforwardly. If she wouldn’t tell him, then he wouldn’t take her. There, no negotiation at all. See how see would get to this love hotel now. What was she going to do? Walk? He doubted it.

  “Suits me just fine.” Clarice grinned when an idea popped into her head. She smiled and then said loudly, “I’ll just call a taxi, then.”

  There! Let’s see if this Casanova is willing to let a casualty go even when that casualty is in pain. And to test her theory, she took out her uncharged phone and pretended to call a taxi.

  “Hello. I would like to order—”

  “Give me that phone.” Hunter snatched it from Clarice and pocketed it in his jeans. Then he jerked his azure eyes to meet her round black ones. He ground his teeth in irritation and clicked his tongue in frustration before saying to her, “I’m confiscating this for now. Until you’re well again.”

  Who was she playing with? Did she think he was stupid enough to allow her to call a taxi? Over his dead body. He preferred to take her to this hotel himself. At least this way he could see this bloody old grandpa too.

  “I’m not sick,” Clarice yelled. What was wrong with her? Why was she yelling constantly?

  “You look sick to me. Now, I’m not going to argue with a child who lives in an adult’s body. Let’s go.”

  “Hunter! Arrrggghhhhh.” Clarice screamed when Hunter lifted her again. “What are you doing?” she shouted, her hands wrapping around his neck for dear life. “Put me down right now. I’m scared of heights.”

  “Oh, really?” Hunter’s sky-blue irises lit up with mischief. “You might want to hang on tight or my hands might accidently slip.” And then he pretended to loosen his grip, in turn making Clarice scream in fright and grip his neck even tighter, her body snuggling closer to his chest. Hunter laughed when he saw the lovely result he’d produced.

  “You… you…” Clarice wanted to swear at him, but no profanity came to her head at that moment, so she sent a simmering death glare at him, which in turn just… just…

  “What? Trying to think of a swear best suited for me?” Hunter smiled. Happiness radiated from his chest, the likes of which he had not experienced in the past two weeks. This happiness made him grin, contorting his lips until he couldn’t stop smiling. He turned to face the woman in his arms and then he just…

  Hunter froze. God, she looked majestic. He couldn’t breathe.

  Clarice was also experiencing a lack of oxygen. Hunter just smiled. That smile that had captivated her and made her heart go thump, thump, thump, just like in the elevator when she’d pretended to be a sick old woman.

  Both Clarice and Hunter swallowed, trying to appease their dry throats. Their eyes continued to stare at one another as if they were fighting a battle to see who could stare the longest. There was definitely a spark, a thread of electricity blazing between the two, as they continued to gaze at one another. Until a random car zoomed past them and broke the spell.

  Hunter recovered first. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some dignity.

  That felt like an eternity, he thought, when in actual fact it had only been mere seconds.

  “Let me put you in the front,” he said, moving to the other door. He dropped her off, then went back to his seat.

  Hoping to lighten their mood a bit, he started teasing her again.

  “God, you’re so heavy, Avocado,” he commented cheekily. “My arms almost broke. What did you eat this morning? Roast pork?”

  “I had rice porridge, thank you very much,” Clarice said, fidgeting in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with the whole topic of weight.

  Clarice didn’t want to tell Hunter about her ailment this morning. She had resorted to eating rice porridge because she just couldn’t seem to take down any proper food. She tried to eat her normal cereal, but she just wanted to gag every time she was about to take a spoonful. She suspected it was because she was so nervous about the prospect of seeing Anton today and having to face their unknown future together. Plus, there was also the possibility that he didn’t remember their night of passion in Queenstown. But for her current conversation here with Hunter, she still had her pride, so she said, “I am not fat. I am within the range of my ideal body mass index.”

  “Fine, whatever you say,” Hunter said, grinning at her. Then he realized she still hadn’t put on her seat belt. “Are you not going to do up your belt?” he asked, quirking one eyebrow in question. “Or do you want to feel the thrill of having your stomach contents jumping about inside you?”

  Clarice couldn’t retort. She didn’t know what to say. She was being careless again. Seatbelts. Of course she needed to fasten her seatbelt before Hunter started the car. She’d never ever driven anywhere with her seatbelt unbuckled before. That was way too dangerous. And this situation was dangerous. She seriously needed to check her mental status. This was definitely unhealthy.

  “God, Avocado, why are you being so difficult?” Hunter sighed and shook his head when he saw Clarice still struggling to pull the belt from the side.

  “It’s too tight. I can’t extend it. Clearly, you need to fix your seatbelts. It’s dangerous and not functioning properly,” she said, tugging on the belt again, but it just wouldn’t budge.

  “Let me do it for you,” Hunter said. Then he leaned over her, pressing his own body mass into Clarice’s small frame so they were practically molded together.

  Clarice tried to press her body back into her seat as much as possible to avoid touching Hunter, but his body was just so close to her that she was literally crushed tight, like a ham sandwich. Dear heavens, she could feel his rippled abs. And his heart, his heart was beating so fast. He wasn’t sick, was he?

  Clarice didn’t know what Hunter’s ailment was, but she sure did notice her own. His face was so close that it made it hard to breathe again. She had to turn and look toward the steering wheel just to avoid her face touching his.

  “What’s taking so long?” she asked, squeezing back into the seat farther.

  “It’s really tight Avocado. I really need to get this belt looked at.”

  After a few more tugs, Hunter got it to work. Then he buckled it around her. But accidently, his nose brushed agains
t her cheek when she turned to the sound of his voice.

  Hunter sucked in his breath, just as his lips touched her. Again.

  “You, you kissed me again.” Clarice touched her cheek.

  “That’s not a kiss. It was an accident,” Hunter said, wanting to caress that soft cheek again, inhaling her sweet orange blossom scent.

  “Get off me, then,” Clarice shouted, pushing him away. Then she folded her arms and turned to face the window.

  “Fine,” Hunter said, now back in his own seat. “It’s not that spectacular anyway.”

  “If it’s not spectacular, then stop kissing me,” she yelled, jerking her head to give him another death glare, which was supposed to make her look scary, but it just had the opposite effect on Hunter.

  God, she was so adorable. He wanted his lips on her again. And this time he wanted to make sure it was not an accident. But his big mouth had a mind of its own and just couldn’t help teasing her. So it decided to open of its own accord and speak without his brain even registering what it said.

  “It wasn’t intentional anyway,” he said. “The first time was an accident. You bumped into me, remember? At that Cambodian restaurant? The one in Queenstown, I had to shut you up by kissing you because you just wouldn’t stop yelping, and the third time it was an accident. See, unintentional.”

  So that was it? She wasn’t someone special enough to receive his kiss.

  Clarice, you dork. Why would you even think something would come of it? Here you’ve slept with Anton, but all you constantly do is replay that kiss Hunter bestowed upon you. You even imagined Hunter was the one that had slept with you. You’re really pathetic. How could you feel like this toward this person?

  She wasn’t replying to his teasing. Had he gone overboard? If he could take back his words, he would have done so. Maybe he should stop teasing her for a bit. She really didn’t look like she was enjoying it at all.

  “Clarice… I…” He wanted to apologize, but he really didn’t know why. He guessed he just didn’t like it when she wasn’t talking or getting mad at him. This was another tension altogether. It looked as if she were really upset with him.

  “Clarice… I…” he repeated.

  “Just start driving,” Clarice shouted, then turned her face toward her window, avoiding his gaze.

  “Okay,” he said passively, then obediently put his car in drive. The car roared to life, and soon they were in the fast line, heading toward Central Auckland.

  Hunter stole a few glances at Clarice during the trip. Once or twice, she would look straight ahead and give out directions. For the rest of the time, her eyes were directed out the window, her back facing him.

  It was so strange. Maybe she was really upset with him. The Clarice he knew never behaved like this. Maybe she was in pain because of her blistered feet. He came to the only conclusion he could think of. Her face sure looked pale.

  That thought sparked his anger, so he started grinding his teeth again. How did she manage to walk thirty minutes with those torture devices on her poor feet? Stupid woman! Who would do that to themselves?

  He’d have to ask the receptionist for the first aid gear when they reach the hotel. But five minutes later, when they reached their destination, Hunter didn’t know if he would be brave enough to venture to the front desk at all.

  Oh shit! “Silverton Hotel?” Did Clarice give out the wrong directions? Who was Clarice planning on seeing at his family’s hotel?

  “Thanks for the ride,” Clarice said swiftly, then opened the door and proceeded to walk herself into the hotel.

  Hunter suddenly snapped out of his thoughts, jumping from the car, leaving the keys in the ignition for the valet. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, grabbing her hand just in time. He was so perplexed at the moment that he really needed answers.

  “Didn’t I just tell you that I have an appointment?” Clarice said, shaking his hands loose. Then she started hobbling slowly to the large entrance.

  “You are not going anywhere in your condition,” Hunter said as he swiftly scooped her into his arms again.

  “Hunter, put me down. I’m embarrassed,” Clarice said, her eyes nervously scanning all the people milling about in the foyer.

  “If you’re embarrassed, then just snuggle your head into my neck. That way no one can see you.”

  “Just… just put me down. Please…” she begged. She wasn’t feeling too well. Maybe she should have postponed the meeting. But she thought it would be fine. And then when Red started acting up and she had to walk in her blasted high heels, she couldn’t shake the exhausted feeling. And now, just being carried within Hunter’s arms really did her in. She wasn’t comfortable at all and just wanted to faint.

  “Say one more word and I’ll kiss you. Not a peck on the cheek, but the mouthwatering kind.” Hunter blackmailed her. “You choose, Avocado.”

  “You. Urgh,” Clarice groaned softly, clearly out of energy, and then snuggled her face in the hollow of Hunter’s neck and closed her eyes.

  Hunter grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

  “Which floor?” he asked just to stop himself from grinning like an idiot.

  “Third,” Clarice said quietly, her eyes still closed.

  This must be his lucky day, getting to carry Clarice three times. And he’d even get to carry her up to the third floor. But that thought soon evaporated like hot air when not a few meters from him, coming out of the elevator, were three people who were sure to ruin his day if they were to spot him carrying a woman in his arms.

  From this distance, Hunter could see they were in some sort of argument. So being the smart and mischievous Hunter he was, he took this opportunity to make his escape before they could see him.

  “Are we there yet?” Clarice asked when he was about to make his move.

  Like dogs on the hunt, the three looked up, their eyes already locked on him.

  “Hunter!” they all said in unison.

  “Oh shit!” he muttered under his breath. Here comes trouble.

  Chapter 22

  One long hallway, just like a runway. Two beautiful, life-sized supermodels. What would happen when both hot models had to share the same catwalk at the same time? A competition, of course.

  And that was what happened when Fern stalked her runway, the hallway of the hotel, walking elegantly toward Anton’s office. There she spotted another beautiful species, those long legs glamorously nibbling away at the distance.

  They glared at each other, two female hyenas protecting their own territory, then swiftly turned their heads the other way, as if finding the other was of no importance. Thus, they briskly walked toward their destination again, not forgetting to glide as they went.

  Onlookers, especially Winton, who was once again out and about running errands for Anton, couldn’t stop their mouths from gaping in awe of the two women, gliding side by side as if they owned the world.

  One blond, with her hair piled high, letting a few tendrils fall gracefully to the side, and her blue dress leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Winton could only describe her as a cool beauty that outshined all others. He was sure this beauty would remain sketched in his heart forever, frozen in time. Although Winton wasn’t sure who she was, he sure hoped she would be his next muse to motivate him to lose those extra pounds.

  The other woman, Winton saw, was the fiery redhead, Miss Fern, the one who was responsible for making him lose his motivation to lose those extra pounds by sprouting out that she was pregnant with Master Hunter, when in fact, they were simply the best of friends.

  Again, she was a sight to behold. Dressed all in yellow, she was definitely the devil’s daughter out to rip out his heart with her scythe. And he sure wouldn’t mind if that happened either.

  Side by side, red and gold, fire and ice, so hot and so cold—one would burn his heart while the other would cool him.

  Winton felt all giddy inside. He couldn’t decide which one should be his prize muse. He was like a little kid in a
candy store, having to pick the strawberry licorice or the banana taffy when both were his favorites. But once again, his mind was quick as he made haste to block their paths as both attempted to once again infiltrate the headquarters of Silverton Enterprises.

  “I’m sorry, but no patrons are allowed farther.”

  Immediately, Fern wound her arms around Winton and said, “But you know me, Winton. I’m not some stranger barging into this place.” Fern directed her comment at the newcomer, clearly her competition. She hadn’t a clue as to who this newcomer was, but with that blue skintight dress, that softly styled hair, and that pale lipstick, she was sure this woman was a monster in disguise. And Fern didn’t like monsters. She was direct, yes, but she did not hide.

  “You must be Winton,” the blonde said. Then she stretched out her elegant hand to shake with him.

  Winton turned his head to stare at the beauty in surprise. He sure must be famous, he thought, smiling to himself. Even a guest in the hotel knew his name.

  “My name is Caroline Bass. I believe my father is a great friend of Senior Clinton Silverton. I am also Hunter’s friend, his very close friend,” she said, eyeing Fern subtly through her thick lashes.

  “Wh… wh… what?” Winton’s mouth gaped open when the blonde announced herself, feeling his motivation once again sinking to the bottom of the sea. “Miss… Miss Bass. The daughter of Mr. Steven Bass, who holds shares in the new joint venture with Silverton Enterprises?”

  “Yes.” Caroline pretended to smile pleasantly. “So I’m not a stranger at all, right?” she said, her glare still on Fern.

  “You said you’re Hunter’s friend. How come I didn’t know he has a friend named Caroline?” Fern came to stand in front of Caroline now.

  “I am his new friend. We had a great time in Queenstown. He took me there, you know.”

  By this stage, all Winton could do was stare at them, lost for words as his two favorite licorices fought each other, not with hands and swords, but with words, sweet, gentle words like knives cutting into each other’s skin.