Baby Be Mine

by Rosie Praks

  Then he remembered why he was feeling so angry with her in the first place. It was because he’d been standing outside for a damn half hour, shivering in the cold, almost freezing to death.

  That’s right. Winton had decided to pick her up per Anton’s instruction. Hunter himself had ventured all the way to Clarice’s dental practice just to wait on her, only to find out later that she’d taken off half the day to prepare herself for the pre-conference ball. And Winton was the one who took her for her full body makeover. That damn shit.

  That was over four hours ago. And he’d been waiting for almost half an hour now. The ball had already started, but still Clarice hadn’t shown up.

  He was standing at the entrance of their hotel, waiting impatiently for her arrival, swearing once or twice as he watched the time tick by. He’d even sworn he was going to strangle Winton when he did show up.

  And finally, Winton did show, driving through the throng of people milling around near the entrance of Silverton Hotel. At that time, Hunter couldn’t suppress his anger and annoyance so he stalked to Winton’s car, opened the passenger door, and dragged Clarice to the side, planning to give her a good scolding before unleashing his wrath toward Winton. Except… when he did see her, he was struck speechless and almost forgot to breathe.

  “What took you so long?” he yelled at Clarice, gripping her hand so tight, forcing himself to break out of his stupid reverie.

  “Excuse me?” Clarice asked in astonishment. “Has the devil decided to possess you today? I just got here. I want a drink. Now let my hand go.” Then she flung away his hand and walked elegantly, like a swan, into the reception area. Hunter saw red as he stared at her retreating back.

  “Ah, Master Hunter.” Winton came trotting to him.

  “Don’t Master Hunter me!” Hunter shouted, turning his wrath toward Winton now. “Where the hell did you take her?”

  “Ah, to the petrol station,” Winton replied, aghast at Hunter’s devilish behavior.

  “Why did you take her there?” Hunter shouted to the poor man. “You were supposed to come straight here after her makeover, which should have been over half an hour ago.”

  “My car was about to run out of petrol,” Winton replied. “I needed to fill it up.”

  “Why didn’t you fill up yesterday if you knew it was running low?”

  “Because the petrol was on sale today so I thought I’d take advantage—”

  “You’re fired,” Hunter said, halting Winton midsentence, turning swiftly to follow Clarice’s footsteps.

  “Whaaaaat?” Winton shrieked, running after Hunter. “Master Hunter,” he pleaded. “You can’t do this to your number one employee.”

  Hunter didn’t listen to Winton’s moaning as he raced after Clarice. He needed to find her. His mission tonight was to stop her confessing to Anton. Come hell or high water, he would.

  Once he got inside, though, his eyes searched frantically for that white silk Grecian goddess. Except when he did find her, she was already in conversation with Anton.

  He let out an angry growl.

  Bloody hell. He fisted his hands tightly. No way, there was no way he would let her confess tonight.

  So Hunter made his way to her, but with every single step, someone was always standing in his way, an obstacle he had to somehow bypass to get to Clarice. And it wasn’t just any normal people; it had to be the old crows from Queenstown. God, he just hoped she hadn’t said anything yet about their baby.

  “Ah, young Hunter?” one old man said. “How’s life here?”

  “When’re you going to go back down south?” another asked. “I have lots of sheep. You can come have a look at them. My wooly one is named Molly; she’s always in need of a handsome young man like you to look after her. She can make you a good investment.”

  South Island! Sheep! Investment! What’s so important about sheep anyway? He’d seen so many sheep since he was born it made his head spin, and he was definitely not a farmer. What was more important right now was to get to Clarice so she wouldn’t make a fool of herself. But obviously, Hunter couldn’t say any of those things. Instead, he just smiled and gave his greetings to the old crows who intercepted his path.

  “Ah, no,” Hunter replied just out of politeness, though his eyes weren’t on them.

  “What’s that?” one of the old crows asked. “Did you say go? When, when would you go?”

  Obviously, this old bat was also hard of hearing.

  “Look, I’m sorry, but I see one of my friends over there.” He feigned an excuse, no longer wanting to talk to them. “I should go say hello.” And then before the old croons could get in another word, he made his escape, hastening his steps to Clarice. He’d almost reached her side when the host suddenly announced for everyone to take their seats at the dining table, which in turn made everyone stand and block his way yet again.

  Damn! He tried to fight his way through the congestion around the many dining tables so he could sit next to Clarice, but she somehow got swallowed in the crowd, disappearing from his sight. When he finally saw her again, she was already sitting next to Anton, smiling. And there were no spare seats left at their table. Could this be the worst day of his life?

  Hunter flicked his eyes and saw a few spare seats a few tables away so he seated himself there. Suddenly, he felt someone sitting next to him. Turning around, he found Fern smiling at him.

  “Well, Hunter?” she asked, blocking the image of Clarice and Anton together. “Does Fern look beautiful tonight? Will she be able to attract someone’s eyes tonight?”

  “Yeah,” Hunter said absentmindedly, not looking at his friend at all, just trying to move his head so he could see Clarice again, but Fern moved in front of his face again, wanting to show off her beautiful green gown.

  Hunter became irritated. “Could you just move over there?”

  “What’s wrong, Hunter?” Fern asked. “Why do you sound so mad?”

  “It’s nothing,” Hunter said, ignoring his friend’s question. God, he wanted to just march over there and shred his cousin to pieces. How dare he smile at Clarice like that? For once, he disliked his cousin for having such a calm demeanor, unlike himself, who was always so irrational and fiery, a trait Clarice disliked. She’d always said he was an immature kid.

  Fern directed her gaze to where Hunter was staring, and she too felt something. Although she wasn’t raving mad like Hunter, who wanted to strangle and shred his own cousin to pieces, she felt sad.

  Should she give up? Here she had taken a total of six hours to accomplish this look she sported. With her red hair in ringlets and her dress a nice emerald green shade, she was sure Anton would stop to admire her, but he was already looking at Clarice, the goddess.

  Gosh, Clarice was so beautiful with her long jet-black hair bundled to the side like that. Who would look at a fiery red-haired girl who always speaks in third person?

  At the same time both Hunter and Fern were tormented by their own internal feelings toward their respected interests, both Clarice and Anton were busy conversing with each other about the conference tomorrow.

  “Your presentation starts at two p.m.,” Anton said, smiling at Clarice. “Is that all right?”

  “Yes. I’ve prepared everything,” Clarice said.

  Clarice continued to converse with Anton about her health and that yes, she was fine now after going to the hospital, just low blood pressure. She had to resort to lying to him since she didn’t want to bring up the subject of her pregnancy yet. There were too many people around; she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone’s stare was boring into her back. It was a very unsettling feeling. So she pretended to drop her napkin. While picking it up, she diverted her gaze in the direction that feeling was emitting from and sure enough, her eyes smack landed on a pair of azure eyes.

  That Casanova Hunter. He was staring at her strangely, like a fire had ignited in his eyes, a glowing ember within them. His mouth still held an angry snarl, just like when he’d attacked her wit
h his devious words when she’d first exited the car.

  Why was he acting like that? She was pretty upset too when she first arrived. She could remember feeling so nervous about her confession tonight and had prepared herself mentally for that moment, even meditating in the car, but Winton had to talk to her, constantly interrupting her like a dog yapping for attention. She was on the verge of snapping at him. And then when Hunter dragged her out like that, she literally cracked, lashing out at him, accusing him of being the devil incarnate.

  Tonight she was determined to tell Anton. She wouldn’t let any distraction waylay her like the last time when they were in the Cambodian restaurant together. That old blind man falling on her lap shook her resolve. Well, tonight, she wasn’t going to let it go. Tonight, even Hunter wouldn’t distract her from her goal. She would talk to Anton and tell him about their baby. If Anton didn’t want a part of it, then she would be fine with that too. But she just needed to get this off her chest.

  When the song “Sway” by Michael Bublé came on, Anton asked her permission to dance. Finding that sitting in her chair was only making her more uncomfortable with that Casanova’s eyes boring into her back, she agreed and took his hand, letting him glide her to the dance floor.

  Hunter gritted his teeth in anger. How dare she choose Anton over him, despite knowing full well now that he was the actual heir of Silverton Enterprises, not Anton? And there was also the fact that he was the father of her child. But obviously, he couldn’t tell her that, well, not yet anyway. Otherwise, she would freak out.

  Watching the pair dance only made his blood boil even more. Hunter grabbed a champagne off one of the trays and downed it in one go, feeling the sting of the liquid burn his throat, but man, he didn’t give a damn about his throat at the moment.

  “Don’t you think dancing is a very intimate art, Hunter?” Fern asked sadly as she watched the one man she’d been thinking about constantly since she arrived in New Zealand, that brown-haired man she realized always made her heart jump whenever he was around, now dancing so intimately with Clarice.

  Hunter gripped the empty glass so tight his knuckles turned white. If he applied a little more pressure surely the glass would shatter into millions of tiny crystals. And hearing Fern say this only made his nostrils flare even more. If he were a dragon, he would have breathed fire and burned down the whole damn hotel by now.

  “What do you mean intimate, Fern?” Hunter asked bitterly, his eyes glued to the dancing couple as they swayed and laughed like lovers.

  “I mean one can easily talk to one another without letting other people know what they’re discussing.”

  Hunter jerked his eyes to his friend then, his breathing rough.

  “You mean to say they could say anything in the throng of people and no one would know?” Hunter asked for confirmation.

  “Yes,” Fern said, still eyeing Anton laughing with Clarice.

  “Even a confession?” Hunter asked in fright, as he could feel his goal crumpling down on him.

  “Even a confession,” Fern said absentmindedly.

  Hunter snapped. “Come on, Fern. Let’s dance.”

  “Wh-what?” Fern was so startled when Hunter dragged her onto the dance floor, standing so close to the other couple, it made her heart jump again.

  “Hunter, what are you planning?” Fern whispered close to his ear.

  “I need your help.”

  “You need my help?” Fern asked, her interest piqued now.

  “Mmm.” Hunter nodded. Then he whispered something into Fern’s ear, which made her eyes light up. Fern looked at Clarice, gave her a smile, and nodded to Hunter.

  Fern was only too willing to oblige as she laid her hands on top of Hunter’s shoulders and they both proceeded with their dance, swaying to the sound of Michael Bublé’s song.

  So Hunter was trying to make Clarice jealous, was he? Fern knew Hunter liked Clarice, but she didn’t know it went to this extent. Oh, she was glad to be of help. In fact, Fern also wanted to make Anton jealous. So she hoped by dancing with Hunter, Anton would take notice.

  Hunter’s plan was to make Clarice jealous, but he also wanted to hear and survey the dancing couple at a closer quarter too. If Clarice planned to confess to Anton, he would make it his mission to annoy the heck out of them, hence preventing Clarice’s admission.

  When he saw Clarice drawing her face toward Anton, Hunter took action. Once or twice, he would intentionally bump into them just to disrupt the dancing pair and to annoy the living hell out of Clarice, as if to inform her, Look, you’re not the only one with a dancing partner. But Hunter’s mission only backfired threefold and Hunter gritted his teeth harder, almost breaking his enamel, when he saw Clarice laughing at what his goddamn cousin was saying, his action having no effect whatsoever on them.

  Hunter couldn’t take it. She was already pregnant, so how dare she treat other men like that, especially his cousin? He was furious, literally pissed off with the whole situation, and he was about to storm away, throwing his usual tantrum like most rich heirs would, but then another idea emerged inside his mind and he took action.

  Chapter 30

  What was he doing? Clarice couldn’t breathe with Hunter and Fern this close to her. She tried to concentrate on Anton’s steps as he swayed her around the dance floor to the voice of Michael Bublé, but Hunter was too distracting. When she tried to motion Anton away from him, he came swaying their way as well. Then she saw Hunter whispering something into Fern’s ear, which made Fern turn to look at her and then smile before turning back to nod at Hunter. A stab of jealousy robbed her heart, and before she knew it she was mad.

  You want to play this game, Hunter? Clarice thought angrily. Well, so be it. So she held Anton even closer, hugging him even tighter to her body, and even pretended to laugh at something Anton said, which she hadn’t a clue as to what it was.

  She was enjoying her charade, especially when she saw Hunter eyeing her like he wanted to eat her alive with those molten sky-blue eyes. No, she didn’t want to see Hunter. Seeing Hunter only made her condition worse, so she turned back to Anton, but he was no longer looking at her. Who was Anton looking at? Surely not his own cousin dancing with Fern… Unless… Wait… Fern? Could Anton like Fern?

  As she couldn’t contain her curiosity, she asked him. “Anton, are you—”

  “I’m taking over!” Hunter declared darkly, then went ahead without letting Anton or Clarice voice their permission, by wedging Anton to the side and taking hold of Clarice, slamming her body toward his.

  What? Clarice asked herself after her sudden change of dance partner.

  When she realized Hunter had literally kicked his cousin to the curbside, Clarice wanted to utter her disapproval and terminate the dance, but those words didn’t come out of her lips because Hunter just glared at her like he wanted to gobble her alive and then said, “Dance.”

  Anton was quite surprised by this so he just smiled at his cousin and left to go back to his seat, when Fern stood in his way. His heart did another jump. God, the Emerald Queen. She was so beautiful he couldn’t stop blinking. But he must stop this foolish act. Anton’s cool demeanor was in charge tonight, not the man who melted into a puddle whenever Fern was around. So with that thought, he pasted on his usual cool, unaffected bearing and tried bypassing her, but Fern kept blocking his path.

  “Anton. Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” Fern asked him

  And before his brain could tell his body what to do, he’d already took action and pulled Fern into his arms and glided her around the dance floor, passing Clarice and Hunter, who still held on to each other like lovers embracing for the first time, standing in the middle of the dance floor while everyone else danced around them.

  Oh dear, Clarice thought. And oh dear it was when Hunter grabbed hold of her. Hunter literally mashed his whole body to hers, embracing her so tightly she almost couldn’t breathe.

  “Could you at least move back a bit? I can’t breathe.” Claric
e voiced her discomfort.

  “This dance is supposed to be like that,” Hunter said, happily squeezing her even tighter within his hold.

  God, it was perfect. Gone was the furious fiery dragon who breathed fire, only to be replaced with a kid that had received his prize candy, Clarice in his arms. He couldn’t believe having his avocado like this could make his heart swell up with this much happiness.

  “Anton didn’t dance like that, though.” Clarice struggled to speak as she tried pushing him back a bit.

  “Anton doesn’t know how to dance,” Hunter remarked.

  Clarice was about to retort when Hunter swayed her so fast it knocked her breath away. Her head was getting dizzy and her heart rate was now at full speed.

  Clarice glanced up at Hunter and into his glittering pupils, smiling at her. Clarice didn’t feel happy, nor did she feel like smiling back. In fact, she felt moody. She wanted to get out of this situation. What with being held captive like this on the dance floor while tossing and turning to the sound of the music; it just wasn’t right for her body or her peace of mind.

  “What are you doing?” Clarice whispered in panic when she felt Hunter’s fingers exploring her back. One tap, two taps, drumming on her backside like a horse galloping on a sunny day along the prairie, then those fingers making small circular motions, which caused tingling sensations to run up her spine. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. Her breath hitched and butterflies swarmed in her stomach. “Stop Hunter! Stop!” she whispered.

  “What was that? I can’t hear you,” Hunter replied. His voice wasn’t helping her either, so husky and seductive.

  “I said stop what you’re doing right now.” She spoke under her breath.

  “You want me to stop dancing? But Bublé is still singing. It would look bad to walk off the dance floor like this.”