The couch rustled and she didn’t have to turn to know he was only steps behind. She padded down the hall into her master bedroom. The evening sun glistened in her high windows, casting a pale glow onto her bed.
By the time she’d removed her mound of silk throw pillows and turned, Bronson stood in the doorway, gloriously naked. Mia extended her hand, inviting him to join her.
He closed the space between them, taking her hand in his. And as they came together, Mia knew in her heart this is where she was meant to be, where they were meant to be.
Bronson kissed her with so much passion, so much hunger, Mia nearly wept with anticipation. There was no way this man could be so giving and caring and only have physical feelings for her. She refused to believe it.
Grasping his broad shoulders, Mia eased down onto the bed, pulling him with her. She sank into the duvet, reveling in the delight of his weight on top of her.
He pulled up as if to move. “The baby?”
“Is fine,” she assured him. “You’re not hurting either one of us. I like you here.”
Gently, he eased back down, trailing kisses over her face, her neck, her collarbone. Mia slid her hands up and down his muscular back as she lifted her knees.
In one smooth, toe-curling move they were one. Mia held tight to this man she was coming to care about more and more. She knew it wasn’t a stretch to say she was falling in love with him.
Perhaps that was just the baby situation talking, but she didn’t think so. He was caring, though cautious. He was loyal to everyone in his life and expected the same in return.
She’d tried to steel herself from falling for Bronson. Good Lord, considering his past, she didn’t blame him for having trust issues. But that vulnerability beneath his alpha exterior had her melting, and she could see, could feel, that he was coming around. If he truly didn’t believe her, he wouldn’t be with her so much. And if she didn’t think he had feelings for her—beyond sexual feelings—she wouldn’t let him sleep with her.
Mia would prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she wasn’t lying about her feelings for him or about the baby.
But as pleasure consumed her, a niggling thought invaded her mind. She was lying, and that lie did involve Anthony.
Bronson took Mia’s hand as he led her into the doctor’s office for the ultrasound. The test was delayed for a week because the ultrasound tech had been ill, which irked Bronson, but here they were and Mia was fifteen weeks pregnant. He’d seen the little stars on her calendar hanging by the fridge. Every Thursday had a star with a number. He knew Mia was excited about the baby. And he hated to be pessimistic, but he had to rein in his own excitement until he knew for sure where he stood.
A part of him screamed that she was not lying, would never lie to him. But another part kept butting in and reminding him of the last woman who claimed to be carrying his child. Why couldn’t he separate the two in his mind?
They took a seat in the private waiting room until it was their turn, which wasn’t very long. As they went into the ultrasound room, Bronson helped Mia step up onto the table.
“Good afternoon,” the tech said, coming in right behind them. “Feeling okay, Mia?”
Mia nodded. “Morning sickness has been gone for about a month, and I’ve never felt better.”
The tech smiled as she laid Mia back and pulled her shirt up to her bra. “You’re into your second trimester. Most women have a huge burst of energy during this time. No cramping or anything?”
“Not anymore.”
Bronson stood beside the table, and when the tech put the scope on Mia’s stomach and pointed to the screen, his heart literally constricted. He grabbed Mia’s hand as he looked at the small, beating heart.
“I’ll take some measurements to be sure of the due date, but it looks like your baby has a nice, strong heartbeat.”
Bronson looked down to Mia, who was staring at the screen with watery eyes. “That’s so amazing,” she whispered.
The tech tapped a few buttons, moved the scope and tapped some more. “You’re exactly fifteen weeks and one day. Looks like your due date is Valentine’s Day.”
Good Lord, that seemed so far away. This was just the start of September.
“A Valentine’s baby?” Mia asked. “How appropriate, since I love her so much already.”
The tech laughed. “We can schedule your next appointment for one month out and at that time we’ll see if we can determine the sex of the baby. Assuming you want to know.”
Mia looked to Bronson. “I’d like to. Would you?”
The sex? That would make this child all the more real to him, but as he glanced up at that little beating heart, he knew he was already sucked in. This baby was real and, he hoped, his.
“I’d like that,” he said.
Mia’s smile spread across her face. Between seeing this child and spending so much time with Mia lately, he was starting to fall into a role he wasn’t sure he was ready for. And he was beginning to see Mia as the honest woman his mother had always claimed she was.
The tech wiped off the gel she’d put on Mia’s slightly rounded belly. “The receptionist will make that appointment on your way out.”
Once they made the appointment and left, Bronson settled Mia in the car.
“Would you like to go out for a late lunch?” he asked.
“I’d love to, but I’ve got so much I need to do. Can you just drop me off at the main house?” she asked.
Disappointment speared through him, not something he expected. “Sure.”
Mia stared down at the glossy black-and-white pictures the tech had given them. “I don’t know that I’ll get much done today. I may just have to look at our baby.”
Our baby. He was getting used to those words.
“If you show those to my mother, I guarantee nobody will be working.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d want me to show them.”
Bronson spared her a glance, hating how he always saw uncertainty in her eyes. “She knows we went.”
He didn’t want to admit that his mother had no doubts about this child’s paternity. How could the woman be so sure? Granted Mia never gave him reason to doubt her. But in his mind the black mark against her was her relationship—whatever it may be—with Anthony Price.
“It’s okay, Bronson. I don’t mind keeping these to myself. I understand that you don’t want her to get attached yet.”
Mia’s words sent an ache through him. He knew she wanted to share her excitement. After all, she really had no one else in her life.
And that right there was all the more reason for her to try to trap him into a family.
Dammit, he wished he weren’t so cynical, but he had to be careful. He hated the thought of more scandal coming to his family.
Déjà vu?
Bronson slammed the paper down onto the dark wood tabletop. He’d come to Saturday brunch at his mother’s and had been greeted with today’s “news”—a picture of him and Mia coming out the back door of the doctor’s office. As if the image of Mia, a hand protectively on her belly, with him at her side weren’t telling enough, the damning article