She’d opened the can of worms; no backing out now. She owed it to her baby.
If he told her he had no interest in being a father, she’d walk away, no strings attached. Hell, if she searched her emotions, she probably expected the worst. With a short mantra of assurance that she could do this, she knocked on the red door. The door came open. He met her with a cautious smile and a narrowed eye. Just as she’d figured, he wasn’t happy to see her. Now what? Would they go through the same rigmarole as they had last night?
He shifted and her gaze slipped over him. His tight black tee fit his upper body, showing off his toned muscles. His worn jeans fit low on his hips and had a rip a few inches above his knee. She had a sudden urge to reach out and touch the exposed skin, betting he was warm and–
Damn, the man was poison–and virile and tempting. He should come with a warning tattooed across his forehead: Danger.
“You look like you’re debating whether you should run or puke, and neither is too appealing,” he said with a smile.
She snapped back to reality and out of his pants–so to speak. “If I’d planned to run, I’d have done it before I knocked. And puking, well, I can’t guarantee your safety on that one.” Honesty was the best policy. Her stomach was a bit woozy.
“At least you came.” He kicked the door open wider with a bare foot. “Let’s get you in here and closer to the toilet in case you get an urge to upchuck.”
“Did you think I’d chicken out?” she muttered, not making a move to enter.
“Possibly, or I thought maybe this was all a joke.”
“I wouldn’t joke about something like this,” she said.
His eyebrow went up. “And I’m supposed to know that? I have no clue what your morals and values are. This wouldn’t be the first time a woman lied to rope a man.”
She straightened her back. “You didn’t question my values while we were naked in bed, did you? A little late now, wouldn’t you say?”
His expression remained blank, she’d give him that, but the slight tensing of his jaw told her he didn’t have a good comeback. “Shall we discuss this issue here on the sidewalk?” he asked.
“I’d rather not.”
Stepping back against the wall, he gave her room to pass. This must be like going into the lion’s den. Only danger lurked in an animal’s lair.
She glanced around the room, expecting a bachelor pad with mood lighting, big screen TV, beer bottles and whatever else Shane liked. Yet, it wasn’t anything like she’d anticipated. The place was clean. Not just clean, but eat-off-the-floor spotless. From brown leather couch, to the glass coffee tables and wooden floor, everything appeared immaculate. The Shane she’d met in Florida had talked freely of his likes–playing video games on the flat screen, beer and dirt bikes. His home lacked any evidence of the toys.
“Something wrong?” he asked from behind her.
Facing him, she started to make an excuse, but decided she had nothing to prove but the truth. “Nice and clean. Surprising.”
With an amused expression, he said. “Yes, it’s clean. And I do have an inside toilet, I eat with utensils and I bathe.” With a shove of his elbow, the door slammed. She was locked inside. No turning back. “I’m not used to being a gentlemanly host either, at least that’s what I’ve heard, but can I get you anything? A drink? Maybe a new, more flattering representation of who I am?”
A smile teased the corner of her lips but she pushed it away. “No, but I’ll take a seat if that’s okay.”
“So, you’re planning on staying a while?”
Ignoring the quip, she took a seat on the sofa.
He remained standing, staring at her. She had to crane her neck at a weird angle to see his face and it made her nauseous. He took a seat, not on the couch but the chair, relaxed into the leather cushions and propped his bare feet up on the coffee table. The man never appeared unnerved, and it bothered her. And he had nice feet, which annoyed her more.
“I’ll be here long enough for the two of us to discuss what needs to happen now.”
His eyes penetrated into her.
She tugged the hem of her skirt lower on her thighs. Irritation clawed at her. She should know him some. After all, they’d slept together and created a baby. Yet, she felt like she’d never met him before yesterday. The difference wasn’t just his personality. His physical features too. Was it the strong set of his angular jaw? Maybe the slight curve of the bridge of his nose where it appeared to have been broken? Or possibly the thin white scar on his cheek marring the otherwise golden olive complexion?
The area between his eyebrows crinkled. “You aren’t going to get sick are you?”
Jasmine pulled herself out of her perplexing thoughts and gave her head a quick shake. “Please stop asking me that. I’m fine. I…let’s just get this over with.” She smoothed her clammy hands down her legs. “I’m not asking for money, or even responsibility or obligation. I just want to make that clear. I want nothing.”
Rubbing his clean-shaven jaw, he kept his eyes in a probing stare on her. He was a cautious man, obviously. That hadn’t been her first impression of him during the interview for the magazine. He’d seemed more free spirited. “When a woman hunts a man down, corners him in the restroom and later breaks the news that she is carrying his child, well, it would seem to most people that she wants something.”
She swept a lock of hair behind her ear. “I guess my approach was a little awkward. It wasn’t any less awkward when you pretended you didn’t know me. You seemed pretty good at indifference.”
“Awkward?” His brow shot up in accusation. “I’d say downright over the top. You caught me off guard and I was preoccupied, not indifferent.”
Feeling her cheeks heat up, she moistened her lips and took a deep breath. “After the way you left me–”
“Left you?”
“In the middle of the night? The note you’d left–it was egotistical and rude.” Laying her palms in her lap, she noticed that she trembled. She threaded her fingers so he wouldn’t see. “Sure, we weren’t expecting it to lead to anything, but things happen…it did. Although you did make a small promise–”
“Promise?”
“Are you going to continue to repeat everything I say? I am speaking English.” She snorted in frustration.
“I’m not a promising sorta guy. Or a marriage type, either.”
Squinting, she wondered if this was his way of testing her. “You told me that you wanted to take me to breakfast the next morning and then we’d part as friends. Not marriage. If you think I’m here with plans for a relationship, you’re mistaken. In fact, I wouldn’t have gone to breakfast with you even if you’d followed through.”
“That’s not a promise,” he said.
“Of course you’d say that,” she snapped.
Dropping his feet to the floor, he planted his elbows on his knees and propped his chin on one fist. She got a whiff of a woodsy scent and shampoo. His gaze held her face, but somehow it seemed to target the area between