The Wrong Man (18 page)

“I’m not settling. Didn’t you hear me? I love Tomas.” It was freeing to say that and no longer hide her feelings. “I love him,” she said again, louder this time. She might as well tell her everything. “And I’m pregnant.”

Maybeth staggered back and her face turned ash gray. “Pregnant?” She sounded appalled. “Are you going to keep it?”

“Yes.”

“Talia, you have options.”

“I’ve already chosen the right one for me.” Talia touched her chest, her voice earnest and asking her grandmother to understand. “I want to keep my baby.”

A glossy sheen of tears transformed Maybeth’s eyes. “You’re making a terrible, terrible mistake. My God, Talia, what are you thinking? You’re throwing away your life. Do you think I invested all that money in your education, buying you the best clothes, sending you to etiquette classes, so you could throw away your future? You are better than this. What can this man do for you? This is history repeating itself.”

Maybeth touched her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she appeared more resolute and her mouth set in a determined line. “I will not accept anything you’ve said tonight, and I forgive you for your outbursts and your unladylike behavior.” She pointed at the doorway of the room they’d left. “Now march back into that room and be polite and gracious like I taught you to be. We will discuss the baby situation after the party.” She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and walked away.

“No.” Who knew such a tiny word could be so empowering?

Maybeth turned around slowly. “I beg your pardon?”

“No,” Talia said again, firmer. “I
am
strong, and I
do
have gumption. And I refuse to spend the rest of my life trying to please you and make you proud of me. I’ve had enough. Nothing I do is good enough because I’m not perfect. I’m Talia Jackson. I am
not
Talia Livingstone.”

Sadness filled her grandmother’s eyes. “You have so much potential and could go so far. You’re making a mistake—throwing away your life.”

Talia tilted up her chin. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but you’re wrong. I’m leaving, Grandmother.”

“If you leave, don’t you dare contact me again, because I do not know you. You are not the young woman I raised.”

Pain spiked through Talia’s heart. She hesitated. Had her mother heard the same words years ago? Her heart hurt for the steps she was about to take, but she didn’t see any other choice.

“I hope you don’t mean that,” Talia said in a broken whisper. “Because you’re always welcomed in my life.”

Without looking back, she hurried down the hall to the front door and noticed what she thought was a smile of approval on the butler’s face. He swung the door wide open as she approached.

Hitching up her dress so it wouldn’t impede her steps by dragging on the ground, she hurried out. A rogue Cinderella escaping the ball.

She only hoped her prince could forgive her.

Chapter Twenty-two

“Talia, wait!”

Dressed in a black tux, Carter ran up beside her. She’d had no idea he’d been on the guest list, and she hadn’t seen him inside. He must have just arrived.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“You missed the excitement,” Talia said ruefully.

“What happened?”

“My grandmother and I got into it.”

His eyebrows lifted toward his hairline. “You and Maybeth?”

She nodded. He couldn’t believe it anymore than she could. No one “got into it” with Maybeth Livingstone, but she’d never felt so free. As if finally unshackled from a heavy weight that had bogged her down for years.

“I’m leaving. She sent a car to pick me up tonight, so I’m going to call a taxi and go home. I can’t do this with her anymore.”

“Do what?”

“Everything. I want to be me and not someone else for a change.”

“Wait a minute, you’re not making sense.”

“You were right. I should have stood up to her a long time ago. This was long overdue.”

“If you have to leave, let me take you home. Besides, I’m dying to get the full story.” His eyes filled with warmth. “Come on. The valet probably hasn’t moved my car yet.”

He took her by the elbow and escorted her to the far corner of the house. As suspected, the black Mercedes still sat near the front in a line of other vehicles. He retrieved his key from the young man nearby.

“Thanks for the ride,” Talia said once they settled in. “You’re going to miss the party, though.”

“I’m sure I’m not missing much,” Carter said, starting the car. “Anyway, I have to admit I can’t wait to find out what happened between you and Maybeth.”

“So you’re not concerned about my well-being?” Talia teased.

“Oh, I am. But I—”

He never completed the sentence because the passenger door was yanked open with such force she couldn’t believe it hadn’t been torn off the hinges. Tomas glowered down at her. Big and powerful in pressed slacks, a black jacket, and striped tie. For a moment she could only gape at him. He looked like an avenging angel with his hair loose around his shoulders and his wheat-colored skin flushed an angry red to match his obvious mood. His eyes were shrouded with the shadows cast by the outdoor lights, but she could clearly see the curved lines of his mouth and the hard set of his jaw.

“Get out of the car.”

“Tomas, what are you—”

“Get out of the car, Talia!” He didn’t wait for her to move. One minute she was staring up at him, the next he had unbuckled her seatbelt. She only managed to sputter an indignant protest as he hauled her out of the plush interior.

The hand on her arm seared her skin and against her will, her heart started an erratic charge beneath her ribs.

“Hey!” Carter hopped out on his side and started around the vehicle. “Who do you think you are?”

Tomas pointed at him, keeping his fingers curled around Talia’s upper arm. “Stay out of this.” He hadn’t raised his voice, but his eyes dared Carter to challenge him.

“Carter, it’s okay.”

“Talia, say the word and I’ll get help. Or call the police.” Carter pointedly held up his phone.

Tomas’s expression became murderous, hostility rolling off him in waves. “¡
Cállate cabrón
!”

Talia didn’t know what he’d said but knew with absolute certainty he hadn’t invited Carter for tea. She tried to pull away, but Tomas’s grip only tightened.

“Let me go,” she muttered beneath her breath.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

She could see his eyes now. They didn’t hold a smidgeon of warmth, but swam with cool anger, further chilling her on this fall night.

“What do you care? You walked out on me…” Her breath caught, and she clamped her mouth shut so he wouldn’t hear the tremor in her voice.

“You know why I walked out,” he shot back. Because she’d hurt him. Because he thought her a fake.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because we’re not done and you damn well know it. I don’t care how many ultimatums you toss out. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” His eyes challenged hers.

“Talia, what’s going on? Do you need me?” Carter’s face and voice expressed confusion. He wanted to help but couldn’t follow the conversation.

“She doesn’t need you,” Tomas said in a biting voice, his tense body wound so tight he could pounce at any moment.

His arm slipped around her waist and he held her tight as if he thought Carter might try to steal her away from him. Despite the anger, being so close to him again was nothing short of heaven. The warmth from his body seeped into her bones and she softened like putty into the hard planes of his frame. But the muscles in his neck were drawn tight in anger and she almost reached up to smooth away the tension in his skin.

“How about you let her tell me she doesn’t need me?” Carter said.

Tomas looked down at her. “Tell him.”

“I’m fine, Carter.”

“I don’t like the way he’s holding onto you. Are you sure you’re okay with this guy?”

“He won’t hurt me.” Not physically. Emotionally was another matter altogether.

“Satisfied now?” Tomas asked.

“If you need me, you know how to reach me,” Carter said to her.

She nodded, setting Tomas off. “She won’t need you. She has me. Let’s go,” he said to her, seething with barely contained anger.

He weaved their fingers together and escorted her to his Dodge Charger parked far from the front of the house. They didn’t speak the entire time, and he held onto her as if he thought she would bolt at any minute. She took two steps for every one of his, but he paid no attention to her struggle to keep up.

He let her into the car and she watched him round the front to the driver’s side. The weariness in her bones signaled the past few days catching up on her, and she blinked rapidly to fight back the tears threatening to fall.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

The car cruised to the end of the driveway and Tomas pulled into traffic. “To your house, so we can talk.” A muscle in his jaw tightened. “Are you pregnant?”

Talia gasped. “How did you find out?”

“I went by your place to see if I could catch you before the party because I wanted to talk some sense into you. I saw the ultrasound lying on your nightstand.” She could barely see his face in the dark car when he turned his head to her. “Are you pregnant, and am I the father, or is it your ex-husband?”

“Yes, I am pregnant, but how could you think Carter—”

“What I saw tonight makes me wonder. I didn’t know you two were so cozy.” A healthy dose of bitterness and anger dripped from his voice, and he gripped the steering wheel so hard she saw the whites of his knuckles. “Have you been seeing him all along? Did you take him to the party instead of me?”

“No! Absolutely not, to both questions. My grandmother invited him, and I was about to leave when he offered me a ride home. I have not been seeing him—at least not in the way you mean. We’ve had lunch a few times, but that’s it. You have to believe me.” She touched his arm and the bicep flexed. She withdrew, unsure what such a reaction meant. “You’re the father. I swear, and I planned to tell you, but we argued and I didn’t get a chance to.”

He remained silent, and for a few miles, she only heard the sound of the motor and the swish of vehicles going by. He seemed to be turning everything over in his head. “Are you keeping our baby?”

Our baby. Hearing him say the words out loud created a surge of emotion. She loved him so much. She couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than having his baby. “Yes, I am.”

His shoulders relaxed and he let out a long breath.

Talia hadn’t known what to expect and certainly hadn’t intended for him to find out this way. She’d pretty much decided if he didn’t want to have anything to do with her and the baby, she’d be fine and handle the situation on her own. But Tomas obviously wanted this child, and his response surpassed her expectations. Despite her independence, despite the strong front she portrayed to him, knowing she didn’t have to do this alone filled her with an overwhelming sense of relief.

He turned in her direction with an indecipherable expression on his face. “We have decisions to make. Together.”

Chapter Twenty-three

Tomas pulled into a parking space outside of Talia’s condo. She opened the door on the ground floor and without waiting to see if he followed, started up the stairs. Her ebony hair was gathered at the nape in a thick ball held in place with a diamond-studded clip. With the two-carat diamonds in her ears, she epitomized class in her figure-hugging dress. He watched the sway of her hips and round ass as he climbed behind her, angry at the way she made his body ache in unfettered desire even when she upset him.

He’d spent the past couple of days trying to figure out whether or not being with Talia was worth the headache, and he kept coming to the same conclusion. She was worth it. Worth getting dressed up to see if he could impress her surly grandmother. Worth sharing his life and the good and bad disruptions that came with having her in it. Worth fighting to hold onto her, even if she didn’t think he fit into her world.

“Would you like anything to drink?” she asked.

“What do you have?”

He followed her across the thick white carpet. In the kitchen she held up a bottled water and a Corona. Careful not to touch her and lose what little control he possessed not to yank her into his arms and kiss her senseless, he took the beer—his favorite, which she’d gotten into the habit of keeping in the refrigerator for him.

“How far along are you?”

“Seven weeks.”

She took a swig of the water and he gulped the beer.

“You should have told me right away.”

She stared down into the bottle. “I know. But we had that argument and…” She shrugged.

Unspoken pain suspended in the air between them, but he didn’t want to relive their last argument. He’d spent enough time brooding over what he should have said and should have done.

“We need to make some decisions,” he said.

She walked over to the white sofa and slipped off one of his favorite pairs of her heels—a pair of black Alexander McQueen pointy-toed pumps with gold tips. He loved to see her dainty feet in those shoes, prancing around butt naked until he couldn’t take any more torment and grabbed her.

She curled her bare feet under her.

“Did you hear me?” he asked.

“Yes.” She averted her face.

He followed her to the sofa and sat beside her. “Look at me.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she said in a soft voice.

“So how did it happen?”

“I messed up with my shots.”

She hung her head and it took a moment for him to realize she was crying. Her small shoulders shook, and the trembling was even more painful to watch because of the quietness of her weeping.

He muttered an expletive and pulled her to him, her petite frame fitting perfectly into the crook of his arm. Always had fit since the first time he held her. She buried her face in his shoulder and drew a long quivering breath, fresh sobs rocking her.

Much as she drove him crazy, he couldn’t imagine life without her. He rested his cheek against her thick hair and inhaled the rosemary and mint scent, reminding him of all the times he’d rolled over in bed and pulled her curvy body closer. At times he’d delayed changing the pillowcases so he wouldn’t lose the scent of her in his bed.