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him so.
He tugged the blouse back down. “You’ll be a good mother,” he said numbly.
“I’m sorry that you had to find it out this way,” she murmured. “I would have written you, but I didn’t
even have your address.”
He drew in a slow breath and got to his feet. He went to the window, smoking another cigarette. He
looked so alone. So lost.
“You...weren’t hurt?” she asked, averting her face so that he couldn’t see her eyes.
“A few scratches.” He stared at the glowing tip of the cigarette for a minute before his dark eyes went
back out the window to the city traffic. He’d done nothing right since he got off the damned plane.
He’d wanted to talk about reconciliation, but when he’d found her pregnant, he’d gone off the deep
end. It was because of the memories, of course; they’d haunted him for so long. Perhaps he’d blown
the whole incident out of proportion over the years.
He turned back to her, uneasy at the way she looked. That woman, Harriett, had mentioned how tired
Dani was. Yes, she was tired. Run down. There had been a radiance in her when she’d come into the
bookstore, but it was gone now. He’d taken it away with his cold attitude and stupid accusations. He’d
hurt her. Again. And he hadn’t meant to.
“What I said, before,” he said hesitantly, glancing at her. His hand, holding the cigarette, moved
aimlessly. “I know the baby’s mine.”
“Do you?” she asked with an empty smile as she sat up. “I might have had a legion of lovers since you
left.”
“I came back to see if we might salvage the marriage,” he said after a minute, hoping for some
reaction in her face, but there was nothing.
She looked up at him, schooling her features to remain calm. “And now?”
He shifted restlessly, pacing near the window, his blond head bowed, one hand in his pocket. “Now I
don’t know.”
She swung her feet to the floor. “I haven’t changed my mind, even if you’ve started to change yours,”
she said before he could speak. She looked at him with quiet gray eyes. “It’s all I can do to manage
carrying the baby and running my business so that I can support him. I can’t have any additional
pressure right now. I hope you understand.”
“You keep referring to it as a ‘he,’” he said curtly.
“He is a he,” she told him. “They ran some tests.” He felt odd. A son. A little boy who might look like
him. He stared at her as if he’d never seen a woman before, studying every line and curve of her body.
“Don’t look so worried, Eric, I don’t expect anything from you,” she mused, getting slowly to her
feet. “Now, if you’ve said all you came to say, I’ve got to work to do. I’ll give you the name of my
attorney....”
“No!” The word came out without conscious volition. They couldn’t divorce. Hell, he didn’t even
want to think about it! She had his child, and he...wanted it! She clenched her fingers together and
glared at him. “I won’t live with you,” she said stubbornly. His face hardened. “You will.” “Make me.”
He stared at her. Mutinous bow mouth, stormy gray eyes, flushed face. Pregnant. He started to laugh
helplessly, a deep, rich sound like velvet. “I like you,” he said absently. “I honestly like you. No deceit,
no tricks, no lines, no backing away from trouble. You’re a hell of a woman.”
She shifted from one foot to the other. No, he wasn’t going to get around her that way. “Remember
me?” she asked coldly. “Miss Frump?”
He put out the cigarette, still smiling faintly, and moved toward her with a gleam in his eyes that made
her back away.
“Sexy frump,” he murmured dryly. “Very pregnant, very desirable. And I don’t want a divorce. I want
you.”
“I’m not for sale,” she told him, moving backward until the wall stopped her. “Go away. Go blow up
something.”
“I don’t blow up things, actually,” he murmured, pinning her to the wall with a strong arm on either
side of her. “I’m more into logistics and strategy.”
“You’ll get killed, anyway,” she said.
He shrugged. “I could get hit by a car downstairs.”
“Not quite as easily,” she argued.
“I want you,” he said quietly.
“Yes, I know,” she replied softly. “But wanting isn’t enough. You’ve already said you’d never fall in
love again, so all you’re offering me is your body, between wars. It’s a gorgeous body, and in bed
you’re all any woman could ever want. But you’re asking me to live with death, day in and day out,
and I can’t.”
He drew in a breath and started to speak, but before he could she took one of his hands and pressed it
slowly against her belly.
“I have your son under my heart,” she whispered, pressing his palm flat against her. “I can’t live with
the fear of losing both of you.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Eric, I could miscarry,” she said, her voice soft with a fear he was just beginning to sense.
“Is it likely?” he asked.
“I’m healthy. So is the baby. But there are no guarantees,” she said, lowering her eyes to his chest.
“It...frightens you, to think of losing him?” he asked hesitantly.
She looked up wide-eyed. “Of course it does!” He was remembering another woman, another time,
and he cursed himself for that lapse. Dani wanted the baby. It was written all over her. “I can’t worry
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