Raye Morgan - Twin Ties, Twin Joys - The Boss's Double Trouble Twins / Twins for a Christmas Bride / Baby Twins - Parents Needed

She stopped and stared up at him, mouth open with astonishment. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who stepped out into a crowd in Paris and never looked back. You might as well have stepped off the face of the earth. You certainly disappeared from my life without a second thought. I … I tried for months to find you.”

She paused to steady her voice. She wasn’t going to let emotions take over and the last thing in the world she wanted to do was cry.

“That had to be a very deliberate disappearing act to let you vanish so completely,” she pointed out.

“You knew where I was going.”

“Oh sure. Brazil.” She threw up her hands and started walking again, mostly so she wouldn’t have to look into his eyes. “It’s a big country. But I suppose I could have called up the Brazilian phone company and asked to be connected to that tall, handsome American who went by various names but might have entered the country as Mitch Carver.” She flashed a scathing look over her shoulder. “I’m sure they would have found you right away.”

He sighed, shoving his hands down into his pockets. “Okay, I guess I wasn’t the easiest person to find at the time,” he admitted gruffly, his long stride keeping pace with her quick steps. “But you knew the kind of work I do. You knew I was going to be melting into other cultures. I told you what my life was like.”

“You did. And that’s fine. I can understand that.”

She could understand it on a certain level. But she couldn’t forgive the fact that he hadn’t felt the need to contact her in any way. Had he forgotten her the moment he’d stepped on the plane? Had the time they spent together, time that had changed her life for good, been so meaningless to him? Was she just another woman in a string of affairs? Her heart cracked when she thought that way.

“I understand that you can’t be tied down,” she was saying. “I never really expected that of you. Not while I was sane, at any rate,” she added, letting a note of sarcasm creep into her tone. “And I don’t expect it now.”

He swore softly, shaking his head. “What I don’t get is, what made you so sure …?”

“That they’re yours?” She swung around to face him, her eyes glittering. “I can’t believe you could ask such a thing!”

He stared at her. “Darcy, I didn’t ask it. I can see they’re mine. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“Oh. Well, good.” Her cheeks filled with color and heat, but the relief that also filled her blotted out any embarrassment. She hadn’t really let herself formulate the fear, but now she knew she’d been dreading that he would want explanations and promises. And if he had demanded those things, she was ready to hate him.

As if that were possible.

Well, anyway, she’d been planning to be really, really angry. Only now, she didn’t have to be. That left her with an empty space inside, but it quickly filled up with more yearning. She just couldn’t help it. Even when she was angry with him, she couldn’t turn off the feelings that surged in her when she looked at him.

They reached the edge of the canyon and both stopped, looking down at the sharp drop off into wild brush. Mitch’s mind went back for a moment to when he and Jimmy had spent hours in all that wilderness as boys, losing themselves in adventure fantasies. He hadn’t realized at the time that he would grow up to live some of those playacting scenes out in real life. He kicked at a rock and listened as it skittered down the side of the canyon, until it got lost in the underbrush.

“I guess we weren’t as careful as we should have been, were we?” he mused, remembering that for the short amount of time they’d spent together, there had been an awful lot of chances to forget to be careful. Once they’d begun, they’d both been insatiable—probably because they knew they had so little time. What else could have made them so crazy?

“So what now?” he asked gruffly. “Do we get married, or what?” “Oh!”

She let the small word out with so much outrage, he looked up in surprise. He was only trying to figure out what was expected in situations like this. He’d never been here before. Was he supposed to know everything?

“I wouldn’t marry you if you were …” She clamped her lips shut, cutting off the cliché, but they both knew it by heart. She took a deep breath. “Let me put it this way,” she said more carefully. “There are men who are fathers, and there are men who are biological donors.” She glared at him. “We’ll just put you into the latter category, okay? You’ve made your most important contribution. Now all we need from you is health information and maybe an occasional financial donation. And that, only when absolutely necessary.”

He frowned. He didn’t like the way she was putting things, but right now, he hadn’t thought the situation through well enough to know what he wanted to say in rebuttal. Still, he did know he didn’t want to shirk his duty in any way.

“Listen, Darcy, I agree that a marriage between you and me just wouldn’t work out, but I definitely want to help you in any way I can. We need to figure how much money you’ll need and I’ll set up a monthly fund.”

“No!”

She was cringing inside. How was it that he didn’t understand that his offer was so hurtful she could hardly bear it—that it was even worse than his halfhearted mention of marriage that seemed so easy to brush away? That it was so obvious he just wanted to get the hell out of here. She closed her eyes, but only for a few seconds. She couldn’t let herself weaken.

“I will take some help because I’m going to need it,” she said, her voice rough as she tried to rein in her emotions. “But only enough to make sure the twins are okay.” She drew in a deep breath. “But help is one thing. Taking over my life is another.”

“Who said anything about taking over your life?”

She stared down into the canyon. “Those who give money always end up seeking control. It’s human nature.”

And then she wanted to bite her tongue. Why was she being so testy? This bristling edginess between them seemed so strange. They’d never been this way with each other before. In the old days, when he’d hardly glanced her way, she’d watched from afar, thinking he was the most wonderful thing in the world.

And then there had been Paris. The attraction between them had been immediate and explosive—a match being struck and igniting into instant flame. The joy of being together in that beautiful city, the ecstasy of the love they’d made in that narrow bed in his tiny hotel room, walking together down the wide boulevard and watching the dawn arrive over the spires and treetops of the sleeping city—it had all been a magical fantasy that she would cherish forever.

But that was then. This was reality, where they were giving each other scathing looks and tight-lipped smiles and acting as though they could barely stand to look at each other. What had happened? Was it just because of the babies?

She tried to imagine what it would have been like if there were no children, if he’d come back and found her much the way he’d left her. But no, it wouldn’t be very different. Even without the babies, there was still the fact that he’d walked off and forgotten all about her in a few short moments after that weekend. And she’d been able to think about nothing else—until Jimmy’s accident took center stage in her life. After all, when their eyes had first met in that washroom, there had been no spontaneous burst of joy between them. To the contrary, there had been an instant antagonism, an instant wariness—and it hadn’t been just her.

Face facts, Darcy, she told herself bitterly. He’s a love ‘em and leave ‘em guy who doesn’t particularly care to find the ones he’s left turning up on his doorstep. That much is obvious.