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“I’m a massive coward,” she said. “Among other things.”
“What other things?”
“An idiot. That’s the other thing I am. I can’t believe I fell for your charm and that boyish curly thing your hair does when it’s wet and your...sparkling blue eyes.”
“Are you preparing to compose a sonnet about me?”
“Shall I compare you to a horse’s ass?”
“Is that your attempt at poetry?”
“Yes. I thought it was good.”
“Brilliant.” He took another sip of wine.
“I have to ask, Alex, because it doesn’t make a lot of sense to me—what does a guy like you want with a baby?”
“I don’t want a baby,” he said. “I want my baby and that’s an entirely different thing.”
“Just a bit-of-sperm different at this point. It’s not like you know the child, not like you could even...feel him or get an idea he was inside of me for...months and months. I would think walking away from it would be really easy for you.”
“Why is that?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Because a lot of men do. It’s not an insult, it’s just that...well, a lot of men do. And since you just picked me up with the idea of getting revenge on Ajax and that’s all done, I would have thought it wouldn’t serve your purpose to be involved with the child. Especially since I won’t marry you and let you take Holt from Ajax.”
“This is a matter of honor.”
“You have honor? Where was your honor when you were stealing my virtue in Corfu?”
“This virtue I stole,” he said, leaning forward, “where was it when we were in Corfu? Virginity I remember. But I sort of remember you flinging it at me. I don’t really remember me stealing it.”
She sniffed. “What. Ever. The thing is that I’m not really sure what’s in this for you and that makes me nervous. I’ve removed a couple of carrots and yet here you are still, like there’s another treat for you to catch—and I’m concerned about exactly what treats you think you’re going to be...getting from me. Because none. The answer is none.”
“I want my child,” he said, setting his wine glass down, his palms flat on the table. “Because I know how the world is. Because I know what it’s like to grow up without a father. I know what it is to look at trees making shadows on your wall, and to not simply wonder what sort of evil things a bogeyman might do to you, but to know, with utter certainty, every horrible thing that could become of you. What it is to know that if the bogeyman ever did come there would be no one to protect you. My child will never know these fears. I will protect him. I will give him shelter with me, security. When I’m there, he will never worry. Not about one thing.”
She looked down at the table and a plate of fish and rice was placed in front of her. It didn’t look appetizing in the least. Her stomach was too full of knots and anxiety for her to take a bite of anything.
And Alex’s speech had only added to the knots. She didn’t want to see the good in him. It was far too dangerous. She wanted to be angry. To look at him and see a mustache-twirling villain bent on tying her to the tracks in an attempt to defeat Ajax, who she was still trying to place in the position of hero.
