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‘The way I see it,’ she continued, ‘I’ve made the decision to have this baby, so it’s my responsibility to bring it up, both financially and emotionally. There’s absolutely no need for you to feel any responsibility towards it. I think that’s fair.’
The reluctant smile disappeared. ‘I don’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘A child needs a father.’
The simple, stoic words surprised her. And she had no idea how to respond to the statement, because she had firsthand knowledge of how right he was. How desperately had she needed her own father, after her mother’s death? How much had she yearned for his approval and affection? She’d planned to protect her child by shielding it from a man who didn’t want it, and couldn’t love it. But did she really have the right to make that decision?
‘In an ideal world that’s certainly true,’ she said carefully. ‘But children grow up without fathers all the time. And isn’t that what you intended to do with Marlena’s child?’
‘That was the plan at the time.’ He ran his hand through his hair, the gesture weary. ‘But plans change. I couldn’t do that to my child. Not now.’
‘Why not?’ she asked, wanting desperately to know. Was it possible he wasn’t as indifferent to the prospect of fatherhood as he’d seemed? That he felt the same connection to this child that she did?
But instead of giving her a straight answer, all he said was, ‘It’s complicated.’
The fine hairs on the back of Tess’s neck prickled at the deliberately evasive answer, but she swallowed down her irritation. ‘That’s not very help—’
‘Have you got an ob-gyn yet?’ he cut in.
‘Yes, of course,’ she answered instinctively, her fine hairs prickling even more at the intrusive tone—and the deliberate change of subject.
‘Who?’
‘Dr Hillier in Pacific Heights. She handled my friend Eva’s pregnancy.’
He pulled a smart phone out of his back pocket and keyed in something. ‘Right, I’ll have her checked out and get her to bill me.’
‘No, you won’t,’ she said, adding a hint of steel to her voice as her fine hairs went haywire. ‘I can pay for my own medical care, thank you very much.’
He looked up from his mobile, apparently oblivious to the steel. ‘Uh-huh, how?’
‘Look, Nate,’ she replied, the hint of steel now replaced with a whole foundry. ‘This is not your responsibility.’
One dark brow lifted in a sceptical arch. ‘The kid’s mine, Tess,’ he said patiently, as if he were talking to an imbecile. ‘And I’ll lay odds that in your line of work you don’t have proper healthcare coverage,’ he added, with such implacable logic she wanted to scream. ‘So your healthcare costs are the least of my responsibilities.’
‘I have savings,’ she said, desperately trying to avert the conversation she had a bad feeling was heading her way.
Who knew Nate Graystone would turn out to have the most overdeveloped sense of responsibility of any man on the planet? He might not want to be a father, but he was obviously determined to do the right thing. And while on some levels that was admirable, on others it was terrifying. She didn’t want to become the responsibility of any man, least of all a man like Nate.
‘That’s beside the point,’ he said, tucking the phone back into his pocket.
‘No, it’s not,’ she blurted out, the thin note of panic making her voice rise.
He tucked his forefinger under her chin, nudged her gaze back to his. ‘Why are you so determined to do this on your own, when there’s no need?’
The penetrating stare made her insides feel as if they were shrinking. ‘Because I like my independence. It’s important to me.’ She didn’t want to become dependent on him, in any way. She’d survived on her own since she was fifteen, becoming emotionally and eventually financially self-sufficient. And she couldn’t afford to lose that. Especially not to a man who could make her body yearn for things it shouldn’t need. How did she know she could trust him not to use that against her?
The flush crawled up her neck as Nate leaned back in his chair studying her.
He gave a rough chuckle. ‘Tess, you’re having a child in seven months’ time. In case you haven’t figured it out already, your independence is history.’
She suppressed the silly little clutch in her chest at the easy affection in his tone. And realised that trusting Nate wasn’t her biggest problem.
How did she know she could trust herself?
* * *
