Part of her ached to run to Elliot and trust in the friendship they’d once shared, a friendship built here, in the wooded farmland outside Columbia, South Carolina. But another part of her—the part that saw his two friends lurking and the handcuffs on her old pal—told her all she needed to know. Elliot hadn’t suddenly seen the light and come running to apologize for being a first-class jerk. He’d been dragged kicking and screaming.
Well, screw him. She had her pride, too.
Only the baby in her arms kept her from bolting altogether into her aunt’s cabin up the hill. Lucy Ann eased Eli from her breast and adjusted her clothes in place. Shifting her son to her shoulder, she patted his back, her eyes staying locked on Elliot, trying to gauge his mood.
The way his eyes narrowed told her loud and clear that she couldn’t delay her explanation any longer. She should have told him about Eli sooner. In the early days of her pregnancy, she’d tried and chickened out. Then she’d gotten angry over his speedy rebound engagement to the goddess Gianna, and that made it easier to keep her distance a while longer. She wouldn’t be the cause of breaking up his engagement—rat bastard. She would tell him once he was married and wouldn’t feel obligated to offer her anything. Even though the thought of him marrying that too-perfect bombshell heiress made her vaguely nauseous.
Now, Elliot was here, so damn tall and muscular, his sandy brown hair closely shorn. His shoulders filled out the black button-down shirt, his jeans slung low on his hips. His five o’clock shadow and narrowed green eyes gave him a bad-boy air he’d worked his whole life to live up to.
She knew every inch of him, down to a scar on his elbow he’d told everyone he got from falling off his bike but he’d really gotten from the buckle on his father’s belt during a beating. They shared so much history, and now they shared a child.
Standing, she pulled her gaze from him and focused on his old boarding school friends behind him, brooding Conrad Hughes and charmer Malcolm Douglas. Of course they’d dragged him here. These days both of them had sunk so deep into a pool of marital bliss, they seemed to think everyone else wanted to plunge in headfirst. No doubt they’d brought Elliot here with just that in mind.
Not a freakin’ chance.
She wasn’t even interested in dipping her toes into those waters and certainly not with Elliot, the biggest playboy in the free world.
“Gentlemen, do you think you could uncuff him, then leave so he and I can talk civilly?”
Conrad—a casino owner—fished out a key from his pocket and held it up. “Can do.” He looked at Elliot. “I trust you’re not going to do anything stupid like try to start a fight over our little prank here.”
Prank? This was her life and they were playing with it. Anger sparked in her veins.
Elliot pulled a tight smile. “Of course not. I’m outnumbered. Now just undo the handcuffs. My arms are too numb to hit either of you anyway.”
Malcolm plucked the keys from Conrad and opened the cuffs. Elliot massaged his wrists for a moment, still silent, then stretched his arms over his head.
Did he have to keep getting hotter every year? Especially not fair when she hadn’t even had time to shower since yesterday thanks to her son’s erratic sleeping schedule.
Moistening her dry mouth, Lucy Ann searched for a way to dispel the awkward air. “Malcolm, Conrad, I realize you meant well with this, but perhaps it’s time for you both to leave. Elliot and I clearly have some things to discuss.”
Eli burped. Lucy Ann rolled her eyes and cradled her son in the crook of her arm, too aware of the weight of Elliot’s stare.
Malcolm thumped Elliot on the back. “You can thank us later.”
Conrad leveled a somber steady look her way. “Call if you need anything. I mean that.”
Without another word, both men disappeared back into the wooded perimeter as quickly as they’d arrived. For the first time in eleven months, she was alone with Elliot.
Well, not totally alone. She clutched Eli closer until he squirmed.
Elliot stuffed his hands in his pockets, still keeping his distance. “How long have you been staying with your aunt?”
“Since I left Monte Carlo.” She’d been here the whole time, if he’d only bothered to look. Where else would she go? She had money saved up, but staying here made the most sense economically.
“How are you supporting yourself?”
“That’s not your business.” She lifted her chin. He had the ability to find out anything he wanted to know about her if he’d just looked, thanks to his Interpol connections.
Apparently, he hadn’t even bothered to try. And that’s what hurt the most. All these months, she’d thought he would check up on her. He would have seen she was pregnant. He would have wondered.
He would have come.
“Not my business?” He stalked a step closer, only a hint of anger showing in his carefully guarded eyes. “Really? I think we both know why it is so very much my business.”
“I have plenty saved up from my years working for you.” He’d insisted on paying her an outlandish salary to be his personal assistant. “And I’m doing virtual work to subsidize my income. I build and maintain websites. I make enough to get by.” Her patience ran out with this small talk, the avoidance of discussing the baby sleeping in her arms. “You’ve had months to ask these questions and chose to remain silent. If anyone has a right to be angry, it’s me.”
“You didn’t call either, and you have a much more compelling reason to communicate.” He nodded toward Eli. “He is mine.”
“You sound sure.”
“I know you. I see the truth in your eyes,” he said simply.
She couldn’t argue with that. She swallowed once, twice, to clear her throat and gather her nerve. “His name is Eli. And yes, he’s your son, two months old.”
Elliot pulled his hands from his pockets. “I want to hold him.”
Her stomach leaped into her throat. She’d envisioned this moment so many times, but living in it? She never could have imagined how deeply the emotions would rattle her. She passed over Eli to his father, watching Elliot’s face. For once, she couldn’t read him at all. So strange, considering how they’d once been so in sync they could finish each other’s sentences, read a thought from a glance across a room.
Now, he was like a stranger.
Face a blank slate, Elliot held their son in broad, capable hands, palmed the baby’s bottom and head as he studied the tiny cherub features. Eli still wore his blue footed sleeper from bedtime, his blond hair glistening as the sun sent dappled rays through the branches. The moment looked like a fairy tale, but felt so far from that her heart broke over how this should have, could have been.
Finally, Elliot looked up at her, his blasé mask sliding away to reveal eyes filled with ragged pain. His throat moved in a slow gulp of emotion. “Why did you keep this—Eli—from me?”
Guilt and frustration gnawed at her. She’d tried to contact him but knew she hadn’t tried hard enough. Her pride... Damn it all. Her excuses all sounded weak now, even to her own ears.
“You were engaged to someone else. I didn’t want to interfere in that.”
“You never intended to tell me at all?” His voice went hoarse with disbelief, his eyes shooting back down to his son sleeping against his chest so contentedly as if he’d been there all along.
“Of course I planned to explain—after you were married.” She dried her damp palms on her sundress. “I refused to be responsible for breaking up your great love match.”
Okay, she couldn’t keep the cynicism out of that last part,