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She clutched her hands together, stared down at them. ‘I won’t keep the baby from you,’ she said, and looked up. ‘You can still be a part of its life. I wouldn’t keep your child from you. I know how much it means to you.’
He let her run down before he spoke.
‘Hell, Red. I know that. But the baby’s not what this is about.’
‘Of course it is, Monroe,’ she said reasonably. ‘But the point is, now you know you can have kids, this won’t be the only baby. You can have other kids, they don’t have to be with me.’
Looking at her on the steps of the Waldorf, wringing her hands and trying to be fair to a man that had as good as flayed her alive, Monroe knew he would never want anything again the way he wanted her.
‘We can talk about visitation rights once the baby’s born,’ she continued in a murmur, ‘but until then, I don’t want to—’
‘Jessie, stop being so damn noble for a minute and let me say what I need to say.’
Okay, so that wasn’t exactly diplomatic, he thought as he saw her stiffen. But he was feeling raw at the prospect of what he was going to have to do next. Grovelling, he realised, didn’t even come close.
‘Don’t you dare shout at me,’ she shouted back at him.
He wanted to grab her and carry her into the hotel, but figured that wasn’t going to work either. ‘Jess,’ he sighed. ‘Will you please just come upstairs?’
She stared at him for what seemed like forever. When she spoke her voice was quiet, her eyes wary. ‘I’ll come on one condition.’
‘Sure. What is it?’
‘You promise not to touch me.’
He felt the sharp stab of pain and regret, but nodded.
Silence suited her fine, Jessie thought as Monroe picked up his key card at the reception desk and directed her to one of the dark-panelled lifts in the foyer. He was careful not to put his hand on the small of her back as he had always done before, she noticed, and was grateful. Seeing him again had been enough of a jolt to her system without him touching her. The fact that her hormones had responded as they always did to his hard, leanly muscled frame and that magnificent face just made her feel twice as vulnerable.
Why did he have to look so flipping gorgeous?
She tried hard to recall the cruel things he had said to her, the sneer on his face when he’d told her the baby wasn’t his, but as the lift glided smoothly up to his floor she could see no trace of it on his face. He looked tense and nervous, tapping the key card against his thigh as he studied the elevator’s indicator lights. He hadn’t so much as glanced at her since she’d agreed to come to his room. That cool, confident charm that had always been a part of him was gone.
He led her down to the end of the wide hallway and slipped the key card into ornately carved double doors with a panel on them that read ‘The Ambassador Suite.’
Jessie gaped as she steppe
d into a huge, lushly carpeted sitting area ahead of him. Three long mullioned windows across the room showcased the New York skyline in all its glory.
Monroe dumped the card on a small table next to one of the two large leather sofas that dominated the room. ‘Have a seat.’ He gestured to the sofa. ‘You want a drink?’
‘Water’s fine.’ She sat down stiffly and tried to quell her curiosity. Where had he got the money for this place, and what was that he’d said about a gallery?
None of your business, she thought ruthlessly as he turned from the minibar with a pricey bottle of Scottish mineral water and a glass in his hand.
Passing the drink to her, he sat down on the sofa opposite. He watched as she gulped the water down. She drank in silence, determined not to be the first one to speak. But when she slapped the glass down on the coffee table and he still hadn’t spoken she’d had about enough of the tension snapping in the air. ‘I thought you had something to say. If you don’t, I’ll go.’
She went to get up, but stopped when he shook his head and held up a hand.
‘Don’t go, Jess. I…’ He stood up, paced to the window and back. He didn’t just look nervous, she realised as he sat back down. He looked scared.
‘I have stuff I need to tell you. But it’s stuff I never told anyone before and I don’t know how to say it.’ He sounded like an idiot, Monroe thought grimly. ‘I wanted to explain, about what happened. You know, when you told me about the baby. Why I lost it.’
‘You already explained that, Monroe.’ Her voice was curt, dismissive. Frightening him even more.
‘No, I didn’t, not properly.’
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t reply.
