A Touch of Temptation. Tara Pammi

you’re carrying...”

      She flinched, the worst of her own fears crystallized by his cutting words. Her earlier dread intensified. That was what she should have immediately thought of. The child’s welfare. “I want nothing but a divorce and an exit from you.”

      His laughter faded and shadowed intent filled his face. He grabbed the papers she had signed not five minutes ago and shredded them with his hands.

      His calm movements twisted her gut. “Then what do you have in mind? We’ll kiss each other and make up? Play happy family—”

      He came closer—until she could see the gold specks in his eyes, smell the dark scent of him that scrambled her wits.

      “I’m not turning my back on my child.”

      Panic unfurling in her stomach, she shot up from her seat. “You’re out of your mind. This is not what I planned for my life—”

      “I’m sure you had a list of requirements that needed to be met in order to produce the perfect offspring,” he said, his words ringing with bitter satisfaction, “but it’s out of your hands now.”

      “It is. But what I can control is what I do about it now. Being a mother is going to be hard enough. Dealing with you on a regular basis will just tip me over into...”

      Perverse anger rose within her—perverse, irrational and completely useless. He could walk away from this. She needed him to walk away from this. But she...she had no such choice. She had a lifelong commitment. She was supposed to love this baby. She was supposed to...

      “You don’t want this baby?”

      “Of course I don’t. I’ll even go so far as to say it’s the worst thing that has ever happened to me!” she shouted, the words falling off her trembling lips.

      Shock flickered in his gaze, but she didn’t have the energy to wish them unsaid.

      “This baby is going to be a walking, talking reminder of the biggest mistake of my life. You’ve achieved what you wanted, Diego. You’ve done your worst. You have changed my life in a way I can’t control. Now, please, leave me to get on with it.”

      * * *

      Diego breathed out through his teeth and hit the punching bag again with renewed force. His right hook was beginning to fall short again. The injury to the muscle in his bicep was making itself known. The same injury that had forced him to withdraw from financially lucrative street-fights. The injury that had forced him to reach out to his father for help when he had been sixteen and unable to pay for his mother’s treatment.

      But he wouldn’t stop now. He breathed through the vicious pain, hating himself for even remembering.

      The clock on the wall behind him chimed, reminding him he’d been at it for more than two hours now.

      Sweat poured down from his forehead and he shook his head to clear it off. His T-shirt was drenched through and the muscles in his arms felt like stones. Adrenaline rushed through him in waves and he was beginning to hear a faint thundering in his ears. Probably his blood whooshing. But he didn’t stop.

      Because even trying to drown himself in physical agony he couldn’t block out Kim’s words.

      Stimulus and response!

      Meu Deus, the woman reduced him to the lowest denominator with her infuriating logic. No one had ever got under his skin like she did. And she was carrying his baby. The resentment that had glittered in her brown eyes pierced even the haze of his pain.

      Punch.

      Of course it’s yours.

      Thump.

      It’s the worst thing that has ever happened to me.

      Punch.

      This baby is going to be a walking, talking reminder of the biggest mistake of my life.

      Thump.

      Nausea whirled at the base of his throat, threatening to choke him with its intensity. He’d had enough rejection from his father to last him several lifetimes. He would be dead before he did the same to his child or became a stranger.

      He took one last punch and pulled his gloves off. He picked up a bottle of water, guzzled half of it down and dumped the rest over his head. The water trickled over his face into his eyes. The biting cold did nothing to pacify the crazy roar in his head.

      Because Kim had been right. He didn’t want to be a father.... He wasn’t fit to be a father...

      He let a curse fly and went at the punching bag again, shame and disgust boiling over in his blood. Pain waves rippled up his knuckles. His skin started peeling at his continued assault.

      He had no good in him. All he had was hatred, jealousy. He didn’t possess a single redeeming quality that said he should even be a part of a child’s life. He had chosen to walk the path he had with full clarity of thought—to take everything from his father that he deserved. He had known exactly what he was doing when he’d reached for that goal.

      And that was what he wanted to do now, too. He wanted to take his child from Kim and walk away. Every nerve in him wanted to ensure he had full custody.

      But he could not sink so low again.

      He had let his hatred for his father lead him to destroy his half brother’s life in the process. If not for Diego’s blind obsession Eduardo would have been...

      He shivered, a chill swamping him.

      He couldn’t risk that happening with his child. If, because of his obsession with Kim, he hurt his child in any way he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. He couldn’t let his anger at her drive him into making a mistake again—not anymore. Not when it could hurt his own child.

      Playing happy family with Kim, seeing her every day, when she was the one weakness he had never conquered—every inch of him revolted at the very thought.

      And yet he couldn’t escape his responsibility. He couldn’t just walk away and become a stranger to his own child.

      He had a chance to change the vicious cycle of neglect and abuse he and Eduardo had gone through.

      He would move mountains to make sure his child had everything he’d never had—two loving parents and a stable upbringing. Even if that meant tying himself to the woman who brought his bitterest fears to the surface.