LovePlay (12 page)

“I’m not going to starve,” she said, putting on a magnificent front. “Tomorrow is grocery day.”

His eyes went over her as he cradled the cup in his hands. “Nutrition is important,” he began. “Especially in the first few months!”

“No!” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t my obstretrician tell me?”

“When you visit him, that is? Janet said you’d cut your visits to the bone.”

“My life is none of your business,” she told him.

“Do your parents know?”

Her face went pasty white. She clenched her teeth and stared down into the cup in her lap. “No.”

“Oh, boy,” he whistled through his teeth. He sat down beside her. “I thought you’d have told them.”

“My parents aren’t the kind of people who have unwed mothers for daughters,” she said sadly. “My mother has a heart condition, and any kind of shock could kill her. They’re deeply religious people, Cul. They raised me in the church.”

“All right, then, I’ll take care of you,” he said, as if the thought of it galled him to the back teeth.

Her head lifted, and her eyes scorched him. She shook her head. “No way, honey. I’d take help from an armed robber before I’d take it from you.”

“You can’t live like this,” he began.

“Other people do. I’ll make out. You just mind your own complicated love life, sweet man, and Junior and I will take care of each other. When he’s old enough,” she amended.

He stared at her stomach again and dragged his eyes away. “You need food.”

“I’m not starving,” she grumbled. “I’m just careful. I wouldn’t endanger the baby for the world. But I can’t have everything—I’m just cutting back a little.”

“You shouldn’t have to!” he shot at her. He glared down at the coffee cup. “The baby’s father should be looking after you.”

“Why?” she asked reasonably. “It’s my baby.”

“You didn’t make it all by yourself.”

“Like hell I didn’t,” she replied hotly. “According to you, that’s exactly how it happened!”

He got up, livid with controlled fury. He stared down at her violently for an instant before he drained his cup and put it on the coffee table.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” he said after a minute. “I’d better go.”

“What a lovely idea.” She batted her long eyelashes up at him. “Do give my love to Mary or Kate or Gail or Beverly or whoever you’re sleeping with these days.”

That made him even madder, but he managed not to answer back. “Goodnight,” he said as he turned to go.

“I’ll see to it that Janet never bothers you again,” she called after him. “Even if I have to gag her.”

The door slammed furiously behind him. And with that angry face out of sight, all her borrowed composure vanished. She caught her breath slowly, grateful that she’d been able to keep him from seeing how helpless she really was. Now he wouldn’t believe what Janet had told him. He’d go away and leave her alone, and she could try to find some peace.

The man standing outside her apartment building in the rain was unaware of her vulnerabilities. He was letting the misty wetness collect around his blond hair, on his gray suit, without even feeling it. Why wouldn’t she admit the truth? Why was she trying to make him feel responsible for her pregnancy? Didn’t she know what it was doing to him?

He walked down the sidewalk, merging with the crowds, feeling alone and vaguely helpless. Her words haunted him. She’d said that she was too besotted with him to have another lover, and it made sense. That was why it was so terrible, because it was logical. He’d never have believed she could go from him to another man. He couldn’t accept that. But…

Yes, he thought. But…

His doctor had been so certain. He strained, trying to remember the exact words. Highly unlikely, the man had said. It was highly unlikely that he would ever father a child. His eyes narrowed. That meant…it could be possible.

But as soon as the thought came, he dismissed it. Bett was playing games with him. She was paying him back for walking out on her, and nothing more. Perhaps she wasn’t even as far along as she’d made out, perhaps it had happened soon after he’d left for Hollywood.

He had himself almost convinced. Until he remembered that only three weeks had transpired from his departure to her pregnancy. And that roundness, that mound of her belly, was real. It hadn’t happened in his absence. It had to have happened while they were lovers. And that hurt most of all.

He found himself at the corner grocery, gathering up food in a basket. Well, she had to eat. Whoever the child belonged to, he couldn’t very well let it starve. He allowed himself to wonder if it would be a boy or a girl. He smiled softly, thinking about Bett’s unusual coloring, her reddish-gold hair and dark eyes and pale complexion with just a scattering of freckles over the bridge of her pretty nose. He sighed. A little girl like that would be beautiful. She’d wear frilly dresses and little boys would follow her around, and one day she’d start dating and big boys would follow her around. His face hardened. He’d kill any boy who messed around with his little girl! Of course, he reminded himself, it wouldn’t be his little girl….

“I said, is that all, sir?” the grocery boy asked a second time, as politely as he could. The man looked like a potential homicidal maniac.

“What?” Cul cleared his throat. He hadn’t even realized that he was being checked out. “Oh, yes, that’s all, thanks.” He produced his wallet with a sheepish grin and paid the boy.

All the way back to Bett’s apartment, he was thinking about the baby. It wouldn’t hurt him to take care of her. He could well afford it. He wanted a baby so much, he wanted something to love and spoil. Love was the one commodity that had been lacking in his own life. He’d never known much about his parents, having spent most of his young life in an exclusive boarding school. His parents hadn’t really wanted him. Eventually there had been a girl that he’d wanted to marry. They’d had routine tests, and he’d volunteered for the fertility test, to be sure that he could produce children. And that was when he’d received the shock of his life. He barely even remembered the girl. He’d concocted some story about why they couldn’t marry, and walked out, leaving her in tears. And since that day, he’d avoided any kind of entanglement. Until now. Until Bett. All the hard work, all the stubborn pride in the world hadn’t saved him from her. He couldn’t stop caring, even while believing she’d been with some other man behind his back.

He knocked at the door of her apartment with the groceries in one big arm, and waited impatiently for her to open it.

Bett heard the knock and would have ignored it, except that she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t David or Janet.

Grumbling, she opened the door, and found Cul there. Again.

“Go away,” she said.

“Not until I’ve put these in the kitchen,” he said shortly. “And don’t you dare say another word. You said earlier you could sink your damned pride for the baby’s sake. Okay, doll, let’s see you do that, right now.”

She tried to think of a comeback while he went to the cabinet and began putting away groceries. “I don’t want anything from you,” she said curtly.

“Then throw it out the window,” he replied carelessly.

He put canned goods in the cabinets and blocks of cheese and fresh meats and milk into the refrigerator, along with fresh fruit that made Bett’s mouth water. There was even lettuce and the French bread she loved so much. Tears came to her eyes but she quickly dashed them away. Imagine, getting teary over lettuce!

“I don’t need your charity,” she tried again.

“You need something, honey,” he told her. He folded the grocery bag and stuck it under the sink. “This is worse than the apartment I had in Atlanta, all those years ago.”

“You never needed to live like that,” she replied, folding her arms over the colorful striped smock. “You had money, even then. Tons of it.”

“Yes, but not my own,” he said. He put a new bag of coffee by the pot and poured himself another cup of the hot liquid, offering to do the same for her, but she refused. “I like earning what I get, all by myself.”

She drew in a deep breath and averted her eyes. “Thanks for the groceries,” she said. “I’ll pay you back when I’m solvent.”

“Did I ask you to pay me back?”

“I will, nevertheless,” she returned, staring at him with all the hauteur she could muster.

He smiled at the pose. “Are you sure you aren’t the reincarnation of Elizabeth the First? You do look the image of her portraits.”

“I could hardly qualify for her reputation, these days,” she reminded him with a sigh. She went to the window and looked down at the busy street with the haze of rain making everything gray. “It looks dreary out there.”

“It is. I hear your understudy is being rehearsed overtime.”

That was a sore spot, but she faced it without flinching. “Yes, she has,” she replied quietly. “And after this morning, I may be replaced by her.” It really bothered her, putting that fear into words. If she was replaced, and she could understand that the show had to go on, how would she manage? She stared at the floor. “I’m having some problems with anemia.”

“Are you having treatment?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“I’m all right,” she said.

“Medicine costs money.”

She paled, glancing at him.

“So I thought. I’ll take care of the cost.”

“You will not,” she replied coldly. “Over my dead body!”

“It might be that, if you don’t start taking care of yourself. And to make sure that you do,” he added, pursing his lips as he studied her, “I’ve decided to marry you.”

Eight

M
arriage? Had she heard him right? She gaped at him, her dark eyes wide and unbelieving.

“No comment, Bett?” he asked mildly. “I meant it, if that’s why you’re staring at me in shock.”

She could hardly believe that. Certainly she couldn’t fool herself into thinking it was passionate love of her. He’d said that he cared deeply, but men were emotional creatures in the depths of an affair. And if he’d truly loved her, he’d have believed the child was his, even over the stated opinion of a respected physician. It was pity that prompted the proposal, that was obvious.

“Thank you,” she said after a minute, resuming her seat on the sofa. “But I won’t marry you, Cul.”

He started to speak, paused long enough to sit back down beside her, and tried again. “You need financial help, you must realize that. For God’s sake, you can’t support yourself like this, let alone yourself and a baby. There are going to be medical expenses, perhaps large ones. You’ll need baby things, more visits to the doctor, excellent nutrition…”

“I’m aware of that,” she said tautly.

“Unless you tell your parents, there’s no way you can manage,” he said curtly, “and you know it. Hadison and Janet can’t help, they have enough problems of their own. The only person left is me.”

“I’m not your problem,” she said, lifting her chin.

“You keep claiming that you are,” he replied. “Are you admitting that it isn’t my child?”

She got up. “Let me walk you to the door, Cul, dear. I’m sure you must have someone waiting for you.”

“Think about it,” he said as he rose, towering over her. “I don’t mind marrying you.”

“But I mind marrying you, you see,” she said as calmly as she could. “What you’re offering me is charity. As I’ve said before, there are agencies for that. Thanks all the same, but my baby and I will manage very well by ourselves.”

He frowned. He hadn’t expected that reaction.

“Puzzled, darling?” she laughed as she opened the front door for him. “It’s very simple, really. I can’t go through life with a man who doesn’t trust me. That’s no kind of relationship at all. I’d rather struggle along by myself.”

“We’ve gone over this until I’m sick of it,” he shot back. “Why can’t you just tell the truth?”

“Ironically enough, I have,” she replied. “But you seem to be deaf as well as blind. Goodbye, Cul. It was nice seeing you again.”

“Dick Hamilton will have to let you go,” he said under his breath. “Don’t you realize that we’ve all got a hell of a bundle tied up in this production? We can’t carry you on and off stage every night and during matinees!”

“Then Dick can tell me so,” she replied, even though she knew it was the truth. “He’s the stage manager after all. Your part in the play is over.”

He glared at her. “I’m not through.”

“You are for tonight,” she replied. “Good night. I’m very tired. Junior needs his rest.”

He sighed wearily, letting his eyes run down her body. “Oh, hell,” he muttered.

“And don’t curse at me,” she flashed back. “You were the one who insisted that I didn’t need to take precautions! If it’s anyone’s fault that I got this way, it’s yours!”

“I’m sterile, damn you. Sterile!”

She stared down at her belly and back up at him. “Sure you are.” And she closed the door firmly in his face and locked it.

David came back that evening on his way to supper and he looked uncomfortable.

“Dick’s coming over first thing in the morning to talk to you,” he said reluctantly.

“And I know what about,” she said with a wan smile. “Tell him it’s not necessary. I understand, and I won’t hold grudges. I really don’t feel like working.”

“Why won’t you marry me?” he groaned. “I’ll take care of you!”

Bett wondered absently if the
Guiness Book of World Records
had anyone else who could claim two proposals in less than two hours. “David, we’d starve together,” she said. “I love you, but not that way. You’re my nice big brother. Besides, Janet would never forgive me if I married her favorite sparring partner.”

He glowered at her. “Janet doesn’t know I’m alive.”

“Take her out and feed her. Women’s eyesight improves marvelously when they’re fed,” she suggested.

He thought about that. “I suppose we could discuss what we’re going to do about you,” he agreed, giving her an appraising look.

“That sounds ominous, like I’m bad cheese that needs to be disposed of,” she said, laughing.

“Mr. Bartholomew met me at the staircase,” he mentioned. “He said you’d had a visitor.”

“Cul,” she affirmed darkly. “And you tell our mutual friend Janet to please forget his telephone number.”