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Zac savoured the look of growing panic on her face.
‘I’m talking about the fact that I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure this baby is not subjected to the Lyndon-Holt legacy.’
He noticed that she blanched, clearly seeing her payday in jeopardy.
‘But...but you can’t do that. I’m the baby’s mother. I have the right to decide what happens to my baby.’
Her words impacted on him forcibly.
My baby.
His baby.
He was going to be a father. It was finally sinking in on a very real level.
A surge of something completely alien rose up and surprised him with its force. He realised it was a sense of possessiveness. Protectiveness. And this feeling merely solidified his resolve.
‘It’s also my baby—or have you forgotten that pertinent detail?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘This baby will be a Valenti, mark my words. And I will do whatever it takes to make that happen.’
He read the very definite flare of panic in those expressive green eyes, and saw her hand tighten so much around the glass that her knuckles turned white. In an instant he was beside her, without even realising he’d taken the decision to move. He took the glass out of her hand and put it down, angry at his impulsive reaction.
When he saw how pale she was he had to fight back the strangest instinct to reassure her. Coming on the heels of that sense of protectiveness for his unborn child, it was almost a mockery. He had to remember who she was, and that she was mercenary enough to get pregnant in order to feather her nest.
CHAPTER SIX
THIS BABY WILL be a Valenti, mark my words.
Rose was reeling. This wasn’t what she’d expected at all. She’d expected Zac’s anger and hostility, yes, but then she’d expected him to kick her out of his office, telling her he never wanted to see her again or hear about the baby.
Yet now he was saying...he wanted this baby? Her initial reaction to that was panic. If Mrs Lyndon-Holt believed for a second that she was reneging on the contract then surely she would yank her father out of that medical clinic so fast their heads would be spinning...
But along with the panic was something else...something far more disturbing... A sense of relief that Zac wasn’t rejecting his child out of hand. And that rocked Rose to the core, because she realised she hadn’t truly allowed herself to imagine that he would want to acknowledge his child.
Zac was suddenly too close. His scent was winding around Rose, eclipsing what he was saying. Almost eclipsing the turmoil she was desperately trying to hide from him. She couldn’t seem to think straight and she took a step back, as if some space between them might help.
Zac, oblivious to the real reaso
ns for her inner tumult, said mockingly, ‘No need to look so worried. Thanks to the cargo you carry, your future is guaranteed to be comfortable no matter what happens. But I will be controlling this situation from now on.’
Rose felt uncomfortably as if she’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire. ‘What do you mean?’
His gaze narrowed on her again, making her skin prickle. ‘This is already all over the press, and until I know what I’m dealing with I’m keeping you where I can see you. You’re not leaving my sight. You’ll be moving into my apartment today.’
She sputtered ineffectually. ‘But that’s ridiculous! You can’t just keep me there. I have jobs. I live in Queens.’
Zac shook his head. ‘Not any more. Where I go, you go.’
Rose felt all her blood drain south. The walls of the office seemed to be drawing closer, even though they were made of glass. ‘We’re not living in the medieval ages. You can’t force me to do this—it’ll be kidnap.’
He just looked at her with ice in his eyes. ‘It won’t be kidnap, sweetheart—far from it. You’re moving up in life...just like you planned when you walked into that function room with every intention of seducing me into your virginal bed.’
* * *
A few hours later Rose was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in Zac’s apartment, looking out over the view. She dimly registered that she’d seen it at all times of the day now: morning, afternoon, dusk and night.
Before, it had felt like a privileged view on the world. Now... The windows might as well have had bars on them. Because she was in a veritable prison.
The only thing that had stopped her running from Zac’s office earlier, as fast as she could, was the unwelcome realisation that if she did he would just find her and bring her back. And also, as much as he obviously didn’t trust her and wanted to keep an eye on her, she needed to keep an eye on him.
