The Price of Honor (7 page)

He stared at the small, blurry image in the photograph, barely discernable as human. Arms, legs, hands, fingers, toes. His child. His son or daughter. His heir. The weight of generations of Alexandres settled on his shoulders.

He had to find a solution to this dilemma or this
bébé
could cost him everything.

“H
ow could you not have known about your condition sooner? When we could have dealt with this appropriately?”

Xavier's angry questions hit Megan like a sharp kick. His meaning couldn't be clearer. He would have asked her to terminate the pregnancy. “
Appropriately
meaning you would have pressured me to get rid of it.”

“I did not say that.”

“But that's what you meant. You don't want
me
having your child.” The realization shattered what was left of her dream that he might suddenly declare his love, marry her and raise a family with her. Not just because of the baby, but because he loved her and couldn't live without her. “The
bébé
is a complication.”

His words landed another blow. Hugging her middle did nothing to soothe the bone-deep pain radiating through her.

“Answer my question, Megan. How could you not have suspected something was amiss sooner?”

“I've never been regular. And when I'm under a lot of pressure, I sometimes skip—” She bit her tongue, damming the words. It didn't feel right to discuss such personal issues with him. Not anymore.

“Did you not give a thought to what this will do to your career? How damaging it will be to your ranking and your business to take time off?”

“I've thought of little else. But I can live with the consequences.”

“Your focus and your determination to accomplish your goals—traits I thought we shared—are what I admired most about you. And now you are willing to walk away from years of sacrifice for an unplanned baby?”

Unable to look at his condemnation, she averted her eyes. Her gaze landed on the full pot of coffee, and suddenly the aroma of the fresh brew penetrated her misery. Then the rest of her senses clamored to life. Did she smell butter and almonds?

She scanned the kitchen and spotted a platter in the center of her table piled high with flaky golden pastries. Her mouth watered. “What's that?”

But she—and every one of her taste buds—knew the answer.

Xavier glanced over his shoulder, as if he'd forgotten the delicacies he'd piled on the table behind him. “I had your favorite pastries flown in. You always claimed you would expire without your
croissant amande
fix.”

Megan bit her lip and pressed a hand to the ache in her chest. Ridiculously over-the-top romantic gestures like this were only one of the reasons she'd fallen in love with him. “I was exaggerating. Slightly.”

As bizarre as it seemed, though her heart was breaking,
her stomach demanded attention. It growled audibly, assuring her she could easily devour the mountain of croissants in one sitting. She had never experienced that kind of appetite in her prepregnancy life, but in the past couple of weeks she'd eaten like a three-hundred-pound football player. If Xavier ever saw her eat like that he'd be appalled.

She had to get rid of him before she made a pig of herself. “Xavier, it's very thoughtful of you to go to all this trouble, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I have to get ready for work.”

He made no move toward the door. Instead his brow furrowed. “I will raise the child.”

She recoiled.
“No!”

“Doing so will permit you to return to competition.”

“If—when—the time is right, I'll go back on the circuit.”

“Will you be able to afford a nanny?”

“I'll find a way to make it work.”

“I will give you a million dollars for the child.”

Shock stole her breath. “This isn't about money, Xavier. I have never wanted your money.”

“Then consider the child. I can provide more stability for it than your vagabond life on the road.”

But it wouldn't be a life filled with the love and laughter and joy Megan had shared with her parents and brother. They'd been a team, a cohesive unit—her mother and brother and her on the sidelines cheering her father on until her family had died and left her behind. She should have been on that plane with them—would have been aboard if she hadn't been at home with chicken pox.

“Your wife might object to you bringing home a baby.”

“Cecille will do as I say.”

One of these days his entitled attitude and assumption that everyone would happily jump to do his bidding was
going to slap him with a dose of reality. Perhaps she'd had a lucky escape. Too bad her heart refused to believe it.

“Your marriage is doomed to fail with that mind-set.”

“I do not fail.”

No. He didn't. And that worried her. If this turned into a custody battle her chances of winning were slim even with Wyatt's promise of a great lawyer.

“Xavier, I have never asked you for anything. But I'm asking now. Please forget all about me. About us.” She rested her hand on her stomach. “Go home to your fiancée, get married and have your perfect family. And forget you ever knew me.”

His eyebrows slammed down. “
C'est impossible.
You are carrying my heir. I will leave you to reflect on my offer. You will see that it is best for the child to reside with me.”

 

Megan wouldn't let Xavier's gifts weaken her resolve to do the right thing for her baby.

She set the platter of croissants on the table in the stable's empty break room for the staff to enjoy, but her fingers refused to heed her brain's command to release the dish.

Her willpower wavered. Maybe she could have just one flaky, crispy, sweet, buttery—

“Should I schedule an intervention?” Hannah asked from behind her.

Megan jumped and snatched her hands away. “Oh. No. I'm— I thought I'd—” She sighed. “Yes. Someone needs to take these away before I give in to temptation and eat the whole batch.”

“Are those the famous almond croissants you've raved about for the past year?”

Megan nodded.

“How many have you already eaten?”

“None. Yet. I'm resisting. But it isn't easy.” A crumb
clung to her fingertip. Her mouth salivated in anticipation and her arm lifted a few inches before she fought off the urge to lap up the tiny morsel. She dusted off her hands and backed another step away from the tempting confections. “Xavier had them flown in fresh this morning.”

“Nice of him. So why are you torturing yourself? It's not as if you need to diet.”

Megan shrugged, aiming for a casual dismissal to keep her cousin from worrying. Hannah was head-over-heels in love and about to marry the man of her dreams. The last thing Megan wanted was to bring her off that natural high. “They were a bribe to convince me to continue being his mistress until his wedding.”

“Until his— What an egotistical, selfish jerk.”

So much for not upsetting the bride-to-be. Hannah looked angry enough to wring Xavier's neck should he be unfortunate enough to stroll in. “That's the least of my problems now. Hannah, he knows about the baby.”

Surprise rounded Hannah's eyes and mouth. “You told him?”

“No, he walked in on me this morning when I was getting out of the shower and…”

“And…? Don't leave me hanging.”

“He accused me of having an affair.”

“The bastard—”

“Then he realized I wouldn't cheat on him and said he wants his child. But not me.” Swallowing razor blades would have hurt less than saying the words.

“Oh, Megan, I'm sorry.”

“He offered to buy the baby.”

“Sonofabi—”
Hannah bit off the curse and looked over her shoulder as if checking to see if any of the young riders were present. She looked livid, her face red and her fists clenched. “What are you going to do?”

“I'm not selling my baby, and I'm not going to be his mistress until the wedding, that's for sure. But beyond that I don't know. I guess I have to wait for his next move.”

“It's not like you to take a wait-and-see attitude. Let me play devil's advocate. Do you still love him? Although I don't know why you would after this. What a creep.”

Megan had to bite her tongue to keep from springing to Xavier's defense. He was being a creep right now. But leave it to logical Hannah to get straight to the point. Again.

Aggravated with herself for not being able to crush her feelings for Xavier, Megan stubbed the toe of her boot into the tile floor. “Yes, I still love him. But I'll get over that. Won't I? I mean, how could I not with the idiotic way he's acting?”

Hannah's expression turned sympathetic. “I wish I could guarantee that. But I can't.”

“What's wrong with me? I shouldn't have any trouble saying goodbye and good riddance to someone who wants to buy my baby like a black market special and use me to cheat on his fiancée.”

Hannah crossed the room and wrapped an arm around Megan's shoulders. “Megan, you are the most proactive and competitive person I know. You're constantly thinking ahead and you never quit when you want something. Your ability to assess your opponent's weaknesses and use them to defeat him is a skill I have always envied. And yet this time, you're surrendering without a fight. Why is that?”

“I'm not surrendering!”

“I mean you're not going after Xavier with anything near the ferocity you'd show to the rider ahead of you on the leaderboard. Why is that?”

Hannah's statement sobered Megan as effectively as a dunk in an icy pond. Why
wasn't
she fighting harder? Other than her initial bid to seduce Xavier into acknowledging
their magic, she hadn't tried to plot an alternative strategy. She always had a plan A, plan B and, when necessary, a plan C.

“I guess competing on the Grand Prix circuit was never this…personal. There are always other horse shows and other chances for blue ribbons and prize purses. But this is my baby. Maybe the only shot at motherhood I'll ever have.”

“You don't know that. You're only twenty-eight.”

“I never planned to have children. Not with my career. And I've never been in love before. Not even close. I can't believe I let myself fall for him. It's not like I wasn't warned that he never stayed long with any lover. He had a reputation as a ladies' man before I met him. But when he was with me he never looked at another woman. And he made me feel…special.” She sighed and shoved a hand through her hair. “I thought we were perfect together.”

“What makes you so sure you're not? I've never heard you happier than when you talked about him. Don't get me wrong. The man needs a serious attitude adjustment. But if he's truly the only one you want then remember he came all the way across the Atlantic for you.”

Megan waved that observation aside. “He has a private jet and a pilot at his disposal, so zipping from one continent to another is no big deal for him.”

“But, Megs, he's still here with his horses, and he's paid a year's lease on a farm that you said was far below his standards.”

She tried to squash the hope sparking inside her. “He's wealthy enough he'd never miss the money if he walked away. Where are you going with this, Hannah?”

“All I'm saying is he must feel something for you—something strong enough to make him fight for
you
instead of just replacing you. Let's face it, he's rich, easy on the
eyes and from what you've said, a god in bed. He wouldn't have any trouble finding other women to warm his sheets. But he wants you. If you still love him, why not fight for him?”

“Maybe he just hates to be dumped instead of being the one doing the dumping.”

“Maybe. And maybe he can't stand the thought of letting you go.”

“But he's engaged to
her
and that's not going to change.”

“He's not married yet. And that article you showed me said he's known her for years.
Years.
Did you believe him when he said he hadn't slept with her?”

Had she? Yes. She'd seen the truth in his eyes. “Yes.”

“It's not as if he hasn't had the opportunity to make it legal before now. Seems like he's not all that eager to spend time with her—in bed or out—if you know what I mean.”

Megan gnawed her lip and considered her cousin's theory. It made sense. Sort of. “I hear what you're saying, but…”

“Let me put it another way—and good grief, I can't believe I'm actually arguing for the bastard—you've lost him already. What more do you have to lose by fighting just a teensy bit harder?”

“My baby. Another piece of my heart.”

“And how will
not
fighting for him change that?”

A sinking sensation settled over her. “Good point. I hate it when you're right.”

“All you need to do is make him realize all the things you can give him that Mademoiselle Prissy Pants Debussey cannot.”

The spark of hope—along with a heavy dose of competitive spirit—caught and blazed to life inside Megan. Tapping a finger to her lip, she paced the break room.

Why not try to win him back? But she'd have to be
careful, because the higher the jump, the harder the fall. And the more she allowed herself to believe this crazy scheme had a chance of working, the more it would hurt if she failed.

“I'm going to need a foolproof plan.”

 

Megan shoved a spoonful of Ben & Jerry's Clusterfluff ice cream into her mouth and stepped back to contemplate the three columns of sticky notes she'd attached to her refrigerator door.

A visual map of her strategy always helped her clarify her thoughts, and while she'd only used this method of attack on her competitors before, it couldn't hurt to try it in her bid to win Xavier.

She rolled a sweet caramel cluster around in her mouth and debated plan A. The vertical row of pink squares was by far her first choice, the plan that would make everything right in her world and restore her previous fairy-tale romance state.