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Xavier nods, apparently completely unimpressed by this fact.
“Oh God, did he invest with my dad?” I put a hand to my forehead.
“No, but your father was already on my radar,” Xavier watches me gravely.
I stumble back from him. He denied it in the beginning but what if he was lying? “Oh God, please tell me—” Dad said he’d borrowed from bad, powerful men. “Were you out for my Dad all along?”
Xavier shakes his head, vehemently. “No.” He takes a step forward, closing the gap between us. “But I know who is and, yes, it’s someone else in my father’s world. Years ago when they lent your father money and went into business with him, I knew about it because Dad and I talked about everything back then. We had a brief period of getting along.” His mouth tightens. Obviously that didn’t last too long. “He was trying to groom me to walk in his footsteps and he didn’t want me heading into the family business naïve or blind to how things actually work in Washington. When I saw in the news about your father’s indictment, I knew you were both in danger. I figured you and I could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. Help each other out.”
I lean over and put my hands on my knees. “Your dad said something about a bargain, I don’t get it. What was he talking about?”
Xavier rubs my back and I’m not sure if I want to pull away from his touch or lean into it.
“My grandfather was a very rich man.” Xavier’s voice is short and to the point. “There’s an inheritance. I live on a yearly stipend until then. But the inheritance is enough to let me continue and even expand the rescue comfortably for the rest of my life. I could have accessed the money earlier, when I was twenty-five, as long as I sought public office. Continued the family tradition.”
His voice drops off and when I turn my head, though his hand still moves methodically over my back, he’s staring off into the distance.
“That didn’t work out,” he finally says. It’s obvious there’s more to the story he’s glossing over, but he moves on. “I got back from the army and opened this place up. I thought I got the money when I turned thirty. But no, it turns out there’s a provision that I have to have a natural-born child by the time of my next birthday in order to inherit the money.”
“So me and the baby.” I take a sharp breath in. I guess when I thought about it I assumed family was just something that was very important to Xavier. I never guessed it was about… that it was all part of some… “You just need us to get the money?” I can’t help the accusation in my voice.
“Don’t twist my words.” He grabs both of my hands when I try to turn away from him. “You.” He pulls me close and drops a hand to my stomach between us, his blue eyes burning into mine. “This child.” His head starts to shake back and forth. “You’re nothing I ever thought I would—” He swallows and looks down. It’s unlike him to be at a loss for words and I can’t help pressing.
“What?” He can’t close up on me now. After learning what I just did, I can’t deal with vague half-truths.
His eyes come back to me. “You’re a dream, all right? Something I’m afraid I’ll wake up from and you’ll be gone. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.” It’s the second time he’s said that in the space of half an hour. What the hell is that all about? But he keeps talking so there’s no more time to unpack it. “I thought with the inheritance that maybe I could do something good. I could live out my life in peace without hurting anyone, maybe help some old horses. Then I found out about the heir clause.” His nostrils flare. “And then there was you.”
The intensity of his gaze is making my stomach curl, with warmth and love and the lingering embers of the orgasms he gave me not fifteen minutes ago. But there are still so many questions.
“So what does all this have to do with your father? Does he get the money if you don’t?”
Xavier’s mouth tightens. A sure sign I’m hitting a nerve.
“If I don’t have a child, my father can direct the money toward the political super PACs and political charities of his choosing. So while he doesn’t get the money per se, he’s still invested in the outcome of where it goes.”
“But I guess,” he kicks at the grass, another very out of place gesture for my usually so in control man, “he still thinks he might be able to spend that money on my candidacy.”
My eyes pop open at that. Xavier’s… what?
“My father was never happy with the career path I’ve chosen. He was very invested in me joining the family business. And I was a rank and file soldier who went along,” he tilts his head back and forth, “if a bit grudgingly at times. He’s still got it in his head that all of this is a phase.” He nods out at the land then back at the stable. “Not to mention this is not the face of a politician. You can’t exactly kiss babies when one look at you makes them scream.”
Now I’m the one scoffing. “It’s not that at all. It’s just that I can’t even imagine you in a suit.” I try to circle one of his muscular biceps using both of my hands and they still don’t touch. “Do they even make suits in your size?” I shake my head. “God, I just can’t picture you anywhere but out here in the open air. You have such a sense with the horses. You’re so natural with them.” I can’t stop shaking my head, it’s too strange an image to even try to compute.
“I’ve told him enough times that this is my future. My only future. When I had my lawyer look into the inheritance issue right after I turned twenty-nine last year, I was shocked to find out about the stipulation that I had to have a child for the inheritance to pass to me.”
His voice takes on a lower, growling quality. “Dad knew the whole time. He kept it from me because he was trying to force me back into politics. So I’d effectively have to depend on him for my livelihood through his influence and financing of my campaigns. He said we could play off my deformity for votes because in Afghanistan I was an American hero.” He spits the last words like they’re filthy curse words.
His hand is fisted and when I look closer, I see that his whole arm is shaking.
What the hell happened to him over there?
“Xavier—” I reach out to him but he turns his broad back to me.
“No.”
I can’t help flinching. It hurts. God, it hurts that he won’t open up to me.
“I just can’t, Precious.” His voice sounds ragged. Raw. “Please don’t ask me.”
