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A statement which she damn well knew would virtually guarantee to make him do the opposite.
“Damn.” Walking over to the couch, he allowed himself to drop down and sit. Covering his face w
ith both hands, he thought furiously, trying to figure out how he should react. “You know I’d never abandon her. But why wouldn’t she come to me first?” he asked, his voice breaking. “She knows how I feel about her.”
“And how is that?” Micheline’s tone sounded cool and disinterested, even though he knew damn well she wasn’t.
Hell, he didn’t know how Fiona did this. He already felt queasy, and now he was actually going to bare his soul to one of the most narcissistic women on the planet. “I’m falling in love with her.”
“You are?” Yep, that was pure glee. She didn’t even bother to keep that particular emotion in check. “Then I know you’ll want to do the right thing for her.”
Slowly, he raised his head. “Which is?” Was she going to insist he marry Fiona?
“Help her find the baby the best home.”
Though he should have known better, disappointment flooded him. For all of three seconds. “Oh? You don’t want me to marry Fiona and promise to support our baby?”
The incredulous look she gave him let him know how far off base she believed he’d gone. “Of course not. Your child could have all the luxuries in life that you missed out on.”
Though warning bells—hell, sirens—were blaring inside his head, he kept his face expressionless. “Do go on.”
“He or she should be brought up among the wealthy, the cultured. People of his own blood.”
He stared at her, hard. Hoping at least a hint of his revulsion leaked through in his glare. “You want to give my child to the Coltons.” A statement rather than a question.
She laughed. Micheline actually laughed, causing him to grind his teeth and clench his jaw as well as his fists. “Not give,” she said, shaking her head. “More like sell.”
Sell. What the actual... He could only imagine what Leigh and Fiona were now discussing. A fake pregnancy, along with a completely illegal and unethical and just plain despicable act: selling a baby that didn’t even exist to his family!
Worse, he knew Fiona would want him to pretend to go along with it. But he suspected Micheline would know something was up if he did. She understood him at least that well.
“Why would you do that?” he asked, hoping he sounded reasonable. “The Coltons are my actual family. Any child born from my blood is already theirs. Why would you think they’d be willing to pay you anything?”
If she noticed the emphasis he put on the word you, she didn’t react. “Because if they don’t pay, I’ll make sure the child will disappear.”
Horrified, he didn’t even try to hide it. “You’d kill my baby?” he demanded.
She held up both hands. “I didn’t say that. The decision will ultimately be up to Fiona. She might decide to give the baby up for adoption.”
Fictional, he reminded himself. There actually wasn’t a baby. Yet. Maybe never.
“Or keep it,” he growled. “Fiona would make a damn good mother. Jeez, Micheline. You never change.”
His disparaging comment didn’t appear to faze her. “I am consistent,” she agreed proudly. “Plus, you need to understand where Fiona is in her life. She’s only been here less than a month. We picked her up homeless, living in the streets. She has become part of our family here at AAG.”
About to storm out, he remembered—just barely—that he had a role to play, so he restrained himself. “I want to talk to Fiona first,” he said. “Since this is our child, the decision really should be between the two of us first.”
Her smug smile told him she believed she had Fiona in her back pocket. “Of course. Take your time. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
As soon as he left her office, he went in search of Fiona. He saw her in the lobby, helping one of the elderly AAG members get settled with a book.
“Do you have a moment?” he asked, keeping his tone polite. “To take a short walk outside?”
Gaze searching his face, she nodded. “Are you comfortable?” she asked the old woman, pulling up the light blanket and tucking it in around her waist.
“Fine, dear. You go for a walk with your nice young man.”
Fiona blushed but she didn’t correct her. “Let’s go,” she told Jake. “I can’t stay long. I’ve got a few more tasks I need to handle here at the center.”
