Page 12 of Bryson

"That's not good enough," he interrupted tightly. He had not expected her to want to stay right now, but he expected some sort of commitment and was strangely hurt that she was determined to go on her way.

She lifted her tapered brows at him. "What do you expect me to do, Bryson? Give up my life, my career and come and live here? Where would I be staying? At the ranch with your mother who despises me?"

"I don't want to talk about my mother." He sent her a look rife with frustration. "If staying at the ranch is a problem for you, there're alternatives. We have townhouses, cottages--"

"I want to go home," she said succinctly. "I don't belong here."

The pain of her admission sliced through him like a jagged sword. "That's always been the problem, was it not?" he intoned bitterly. "This place is too country for you. You want bright lights and shopping malls as well as high-priced restaurants. It's too quiet here and too tame. You made that perfectly clear when you left."

Her eyes blazed at the unfair statement. She had said that to him in a teasing tone, one night when he asked her if she would ever consider living here.

"That's not fair and you damn well know it. I was prepared to give up my damn life and stay here with you, but your mother made it impossible. Don't you dare try to make me out to be the bad guy. I tried."

"You did not try hard enough! If you loved me--"

Her eyes blazed at him. "Get out."

"No. Damn you. We're going to sort this thing out. I want to be part of my child's life; I deserve that much."

"I came here in good faith. Like I said before, I did not have to tell you a damn thing. I could have decided to raise this baby on my own and I'm here. Which means I want you to be part of its life. It doesn't mean that I should give up mine to stay here. I won't."

"And that's your final say?" he asked ominously.

He had wanted to hear her say that she still loved him. He had wanted her to want to stay here. They had been given a second chance, or so he thought. He loved her. God help him, he thought he had erased her from his heart, but she was lodged in deep. And now she was talking about leaving again. He did not think he could bear another parting, especially not now.

A piece of him was inside her and he wanted to watch his child grow. He wanted to see her waist thickening with his seed. He wanted to be there for every bout of nausea, every dizzy spell and every doctor's appointment. He wanted to be the one to hold her hair when she was sick. He wanted it all and had already lost two months.

She had been pregnant when she left. If he had known that much, he would have forced her to stay. Now she was talkingabout leaving again. It was pissing him off and making him angry.

"Yes," she whispered huskily. She had seen the emotions chasing across his face. She still loved him. After she had left, she had tried dating for a week, and it had turned out a complete disaster. After being with Bryson, the idea of another man touching her had turned her stomach. And then she had discovered that she was carrying his baby inside her.

She had not planned on becoming a mom, not right now, but now that it had happened, she was determined to keep it and was warming up to the idea. But she could not stay here. His mother hated her. She had seen the woman at her worst, heard the things she said and had decided that life was too short to endure the vindictiveness and hostility. She suspected he still loved her, but the fact that he had moved on so quickly made her doubt that he did, or at least, not the way she loved him.

"I'll be in the living room." Before she could answer, he turned on his heels and left the room. Pushing aside the glass, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes briefly. He was going to try to get her to stay, she realized. She had seen the determination stamped on his face. He was going to use arguments, and if that did not work, she shied away from thinking that he would try to force the issue. Brian had warned her to expect a fight.

"Honey, the man is not just super loaded. He makes my fortune look paltry. He's also super powerful and you happen to becarrying the heir to a fortune. Be prepared to be caught up in a hailstorm."

Finishing the water, she took her time making a cup of tea. Setting it to steep, she dug around for some crackers and found the saltines he had broken the seal of last night. He could damn well cool his heels in the living room. She was certainly in no mood for another tug-of-war with him. With a sigh, she calculated she had spent enough time for him to either get his temper under control or for it to reach boiling point.

When she stepped into the living room, he was standing at the window staring out at the encroaching darkness. She had gone for her run at a quarter of seven and spent an hour running and just taking in the view. She had climbed the hill overlooking the town, delighted to just inhale the fresh air and take in the spectacular view, one that had always fascinated her.

He did not turn to acknowledge her presence, even though she knew he could see her reflected in the pane of glass. Setting the tray in front of the single sofa, she sat and dragged the afghan over her legs. She would have the refreshment and then go and take a shower to wash away the sweat. Hopefully he would have left by then.

The silence in the room was fraught with tension, a situation that she did her best to ignore by casually sipping her tea and nibbling on her biscuit. When it stretched out to almost ten minutes, she decided enough was enough.

"You don't have to stay. As a matter of fact, I was thinking of turning in as soon as I finish the meal."

He was silent for so long, she thought he wasn't going to respond.

"Did you throw up again today?"

His quiet tone threw her for a second. "Just once. I had an orange and I guess it was too acidic for my stomach."

He turned around then, eyes wandering over her face. "I'm staying the night."

"Look--"

"I will go and prepare your bath."