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She was afraid he’d do something that would jeopardise the care of her father, and until that operation happened she couldn’t take that risk. Not when her father was so close to being made well again.
Self-recrimination blasted her. She’d put herself and her baby squarely in the middle of a bitter battle between Zac and his mother. The sheer enormity of the consequences of her actions was almost too huge to bear at that moment, and Rose struggled to regain the sense of control that was fast shattering around her. As if she’d ever had any control over this situation...
‘Trying to scheme your way out of this predicament?’
She tensed at Zac’s deep voice and marvelled that such a big man could move so silently. She didn’t look at him as he came and stood beside her. She was afraid he might see how dangerously vulnerable she felt right now.
‘It would appear as if I don’t have much choice except to stay here for now,’ she said tautly.
The extent and speed with which Zac had set about taking control of her life shouldn’t have shocked her. Rose had a sense that whatever ruthlessness she’d seen in his mother was about to pale into insignificance next to his iron will.
‘No, you don’t have much choice.’
Rose glanced at him briefly, but it was enough to take in that gloriously masculine beauty. He’d changed out of his suit into more casual clothes. Trousers and a long-sleeved polo shirt.
She looked away again and swallowed. Her voice was husky. ‘Apparently not.’
As much as she didn’t want to acknowledge it, because she was sure it was one-sided, she could feel the hum of electricity between them. And a coil of tension, deep in her core, that tightened with every tiny move Zac made.
She could see him now in her peripheral vision, arms folded, leaning nonchalantly against the glass. Exactly like he had that last afternoon. The sense of déjà vu was instant and vivid, bringing her right back to a time when she’d been trembling all over with anticipation.
‘Why did you do it, Rose?’
His words caught her somewhere between the past and the present and she looked at him, confused for a moment. ‘Why did I do what?’
Anger darkened his face. ‘You know very well what.’ He sent an expressive look down to her belly and suddenly the present rushed back. He looked at her face again. ‘Was it something you came up with when you heard other staff at the house gossiping? Did you figure you had a chance to catch my eye? And so you went to your boss with an audacious plan to get pregnant with the next in line to the Lyndon-Holt fortune, scoring yourself a lifetime of idle luxury as a result?’
She felt sick. ‘I’ve told you—it wasn’t like that.’
Zac seemed to consider this for a second and then he nodded his head minutely. ‘Perhaps not...’ Rose’s hopes soared for a second—until he said, ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if it was her idea. An idea you were happy to capitalise on—’
‘Stop,’ Rose said, facing him directly. ‘I’ve already said that I can’t tell you anything.’
She felt too hot under that incisive blue gaze. As if he was mentally stripping her bare, just as he’d done physically that day. Laying her on his bed, telling her to ‘lie down, sweetheart’, before shattering her world to pieces—literally and figuratively.
Anger that he’d been able to seduce her so easily made her lash out now. ‘There were two of us there. I asked you to protect us.’
Zac’s mouth flattened to a thin line and he straightened from his nonchalant stance. ‘Don’t think for a second I’m not taking full responsibility for my actions. I’m well aware that we made love again without protection, and I will deal with the consequences.’
Rose’s hand went to her belly. ‘This baby is not a consequence.’
Zac looked derisory. ‘You’re telling me that this baby is more than just a means to an end for you? Please don’t insult my intelligence.’
Rose’s vision was blurring...with anger, she told herself. Anger was good. Because if she didn’t focus on the anger she was afraid she might go to pieces.
‘This baby is not just a means to an end.’ Suddenly something snapped inside her. Something she’d been suppressing. It rose up—an awful compulsion to know—and before she could stop herself she was blurting out, ‘That night we first met you acted like it meant something...like it wasn’t usual for you.’
Zac’s whole form went still. His face was a smooth mask, telling her nothing. Already Rose was cursing herself for having said anything. But it was too late. He was moving...coming closer with dangerously lithe grace.
He came so close that she had to tilt her head to look up at him, and she could see the flinty chips of ice blue in his eyes, the darker ring around his irises.
Quietly he said, ‘Oh, it meant something, all right.’
Her heart jumped. He lifted a hand and traced the line of her jaw with a finger, so lightly she could barely feel it, but it burned like a brand. She tingled, nerve endings snapping and sizzling. The past was coming dangerously close to the present again...
His gaze moved from her mouth, where it had dropped, back up to her eyes. ‘Do you want to know what it meant?’
Rose nodded, even though she knew she should know better. It wasn’t going to be good.
