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The thought hadn’t fully formed in his mind until she’d said the words. He’d sensed she was hiding something, had felt her panic and fear, had heard the baby cry...
And yet it hadn’t all come together for him. But it did now, crystallising with shocking clarity, and without a word for her he turned from the room and bounded up the stairs.
‘Larenzo—’ She hurried after him, one arm flung towards him in desperate supplication. ‘Larenzo, please, don’t—’
He could hear the child crying, the voice pitiful and plaintive. ‘Mama. Mama.’
‘Please,’ she said again, choking on the word, and Larenzo ignored her.
Mama. Mama.
He threw open the door and came to a complete and stunned halt as he saw the baby standing in her crib, chubby fists gripping the rail, cherubic face screwed up and wet with tears.
Emma came into the room behind him, breathing hard, and the baby flung her arms out towards her. ‘Mama.’
And Larenzo knew. He would have known just by looking at the child, with her ink-dark hair and large grey eyes, the cleft in her chin. He turned to Emma, who was gazing at him with undisguised panic.
‘When,’ he asked in a low, deadly voice, ‘were you going to tell me about my child?’
CHAPTER FIVE
EMMA STARED AT Larenzo and saw the fury blazing in his gaze. Why, oh, why had she said that about hiding a baby? She’d meant to be bold, to pour scorn on the presumption, but she’d seen how she’d given him the idea instead. She’d told him about Ava.
Now she sagged against the doorway, completely at a loss as to what to do or say. Larenzo took a step towards her, his hands balled into fists.
‘So this is why you were so desperate for me to leave—’
‘Mama,’ Ava called, her arms still outstretched, and Emma straightened and walked swiftly towards her daughter, scooping her up in her arms, and pressed her cheek against Ava’s downy hair.
‘Please,’ she murmured to Larenzo. ‘Let me settle her and then we’ll talk.’ Although what she could tell him, she had no idea. She’d never imagined this happening, ever. She’d never expected even to see Larenzo again.
Ava continued to snuffle against her chest and Emma soothed her mindlessly, her mind spinning in futile circles. She settled her back in the cot as Larenzo waited in the hall and hoped her daughter might drift off to sleep once more. She’d slept for only twenty minutes, which unfortunately wasn’t that uncommon, but on a good day Emma could count on an hour.
Quietly she slipped out of the room and closed the door. Larenzo stood there, arms folded, eyebrows raised. He opened his mouth to speak but Emma shook her head and pressed a finger to her lips, cocking her head to indicate he should follow her downstairs.
In the kitchen she wiped the counters and tidied up the last of the lunch dishes, needing to keep busy, to keep from thinking how on earth she was going to handle this. Handle him. Larenzo watched her, one powerful shoulder propped against the doorway, everything about him arrogant, assured and definitely intimidating. She couldn’t handle this man at all.
‘You do not deny she’s mine,’ he said finally, and Emma shook her head.
‘How can I? She looks just like you.’
‘Yes.’ He raked a hand through his hair, his gaze shuttered and distant as he shook his head slowly. ‘We didn’t use birth control.’
‘No.’
‘I never even thought...’
‘Nor did I. Obviously.’
‘She must have put a dent in your plans,’ he said after a moment, his voice turning sharp, and Emma narrowed her eyes.
‘What do you mean?’
‘All your travel plans. You told me you liked to move around. Itchy feet, you said.’
She was surprised and weirdly gratified that he’d remembered what she’d said, but also piqued that he was throwing it back in her face now. ‘That changed when I became pregnant.’
‘You never considered a termination?’
Her mouth dropped open. ‘Is that what you would have preferred? Because—’
‘No.’ He shook his head, one swift, violent movement. ‘No. But I could understand if—’
She let out a rush of breath. ‘I thought of it at first, I suppose, but never seriously. I never thought I wanted a husband or children, but I couldn’t...she was a part of me.’ A lump formed in her throat and resolutely she swallowed past it. ‘I loved her even before she was born.’
