Metsy Hingle - The Baby Bonus

Swallowing past the bitter memory, Cole stared at the woman who had been his wife, the woman who once again was pregnant with his child.

His child.

The impact of those words sent a surge of protectiveness through him. Suddenly the logical plan he’d hammered out on the flight from the west coast—the plan for sharing custody, for visitation schedules and arranging financial support—no longer seemed viable. He couldn’t let this child be born illegitimate. How had he even thought for one moment that he could? Honor demanded that he do the responsible thing and marry Regan—if only temporarily. Liz had been right. He did want this child.

And the child’s mother?

Cole skimmed his gaze over Regan again, noting how her thick blond braid fell over one shoulder to graze the curve of her breast. Heat stirred inside him again as he noted how her dress caressed the lines of her body, swirled around her calves. Dragging his attention back to her face, he stared at that sulky pink mouth. Unbidden, memories ambushed him—memories of those soft lips moving over his body, hot and eager. Desire already simmering, flared hot, curled tight and low in his groin, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

At the squeal of the kettle, Cole snapped his eyes open and cursed his own weakness. Despite Regan’s betrayal, despite everything she had done, he still wanted her every bit as much now as he had twelve years ago. Maybe more. The admission angered him, frustrated him—especially since he realized now he’d only been kidding himself. He had allowed himself to fall into Liz’s trap, for the simple reason that he’d never stopped wanting Regan.

And he would have her—her and their baby, he vowed silently. But first…first he had to convince Regan that marriage was their only option. With that thought in mind, Cole strode across the room to where she stood at the kitchen counter, stirring her tea. “Feeling better?”

Regan shrieked. The spoon flew from her fingers, clattered noisily as it hit the china. She spun around. “Cole,” she gasped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“I—I thought you’d left.”

“We need to talk.”

“There isn’t anything for us to talk about,” she informed him and resumed preparation of her tea.

“What about the baby you’re expecting?”

She hesitated a moment. “I assume Aunt Liz told you?”

“Of course, she told me. Did you think she wouldn’t?”

“Well, she shouldn’t have. After all, it certainly doesn’t concern you.”

“Is that so?” he asked, his voice deadly soft. Did she think he would walk away from his child? From his responsibilities?

Regan gave him a puzzled look. “Yes, that’s so. Besides, why should you care if I’m pregnant? This time you had nothing to do with it.”

The sneaking suspicion that had been prickling at the base of Cole’s spine since Regan had refused to see him, suddenly curled around his throat like a hangman’s noose. He scrubbed a hand down his face, feeling like a fool as the door to the trap Liz had set slammed firmly shut on them both. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, princess.”

“W-what do you mean?” she asked, her eyes as wary as her voice.

“I mean that I had quite a lot to do with your being pregnant this time, too, because I’m the baby’s father.”

“No! I don’t believe you. Aunt Liz would never do that to me,” Regan insisted. Frantic, she prayed that was the truth…that her aunt had not put her…put either one of them in such an impossible position.

“Liz did do it to you. She did it to us both.”

Regan shook her head. “No! She would have told me. I know she would.”

Cole swore, jammed his hands through his hair. “I thought she had told you. But whether you like it or not, I am the father of the baby you’re carrying.”

It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Panic racing through her, she blurted out, “You’re lying. You have to be.”

“Why the devil would I lie? What could I possibly hope to gain?”

“Vengeance,” she replied without hesitation. “You hate me. You told me so the day I ended our marriage.” As long as she lived, she would never forget the bitterness in Cole’s voice when he’d thrown those words at her. Or the way she’d felt—as though he’d run a knife through her heart.

“I was angry at the time.”

“You meant it.” And he had. She had seen it in the way he’d looked at her with such utter contempt. Even now just the memory made her shudder.

“Can you blame me?” he snapped. “Can you? You were pregnant with my child. You had married me, sworn that you loved me, would always love me. But the minute your father showed up and threatened to cut your purse strings, all those pretty vows you took weren’t worth spit. You high-tailed it home with daddy and left me.”

“I told you later why I did it. I tried to explain—”

“You made excuses, princess. That’s all they were. Excuses. The truth is that you liked the sex between us and needed to dress it up as love to justify what we did. But you didn’t love me, and you didn’t trust me to take care of you and our baby.”

“Believe what you want.” Defending herself against his accusations would be pointless. If he hadn’t believed her twelve years ago, he certainly wouldn’t believe her now. Besides, even if she did manage to convince him that he’d been wrong, what good would it do now? They couldn’t go back and undo the past. Whatever love he’d felt for her—if it had indeed been love and not simply a mixture of lust and guilt over taking her innocence—those feelings had died the moment she’d told him she’d lost their baby. Even now, a chill went through her as she recalled Cole asking her if she’d lost his child or gotten rid of it. Shoving the crippling memory from her thoughts, Regan met his wintry gaze.

“I believe what your actions told me. The fact that you chose daddy and his money over me said plenty.”

Not up to arguing with him, Regan shrugged. Feigning a calm she was far from feeling, she shifted her gaze away from those laser-sharp eyes and reached for her now-tepid cup of tea. She took a sip. The brew could have been dishwater for all she knew because her mouth tasted like ashes. “Which brings us back to my point. I bruised that monster-sized pride of yours, and you’ve never forgiven me for it. You swore someday I’d regret making a fool of you. Aunt Liz telling you about the baby and how I got pregnant would make it easy for you to pretend you’re the father and certainly give you an opportunity to settle the score.”

“Is that what you believe? That I’m settling a score?”

“Why should I believe otherwise? Even if Aunt Liz had asked you to be my sperm donor, we both know you would never have agreed. You hate me too much.”

“Evidently not nearly as much as you seem to think,” he said, his voice as tight as his expression. “Because you are pregnant, and it’s my baby you’re carrying.”

Another flutter of panic twisted through her. Regan tightened her fingers around the cup she held. She didn’t want to believe him, didn’t dare believe him. “You’re lying—”

“I’m telling you the truth,” Cole countered, cutting off her denial. His expression thunderous, he moved closer, crowding her until her back nudged the kitchen counter.

She started to move away, but Cole’s arm shot out, blocking her escape. Regan slapped her gaze up to his. And she went still at the cold determination in his eyes.

After a long moment, he said, “Liz told me about your problem a few months ago, and she did ask me to be a sperm donor. Foolishly, I agreed and until a few minutes ago I thought you had, too. But then, I guess I should have known better. Because you would never have wanted a man like me to father your baby, would you, princess?”