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She glared at him.
“I’m not trying anything.”
She hurried away. But he followed close beside her.
“Answer my question,” he said again.
“Yes, I am pregnant,” she bit out, increasing her pace.
He easily kept up with her.
“You said—”
She stopped and swung around to face him.
“Let’s get one thing clear, Trace. I was in a bad car crash when I was sixteen. I went through the windshield. There was glass everywhere. Due to the scarring, I was told I would never conceive, never have a baby. My fiancé dropped me like a hot potato when he learned of that. For more than twenty years I’ve believed I would never have a child, never be a mother. I can’t explain what happened and neither can my doctor. I’m not exactly risk free with this pregnancy, but to me it’s a miracle of monumental proportions. So I’m sorry if it upsets you, I’m thrilled to death!” She ended up almost yelling at him.
“Now stay away from me. I don’t want anything more to do with you.”
She turned and headed for the street. Surely she could find a cab and get home before she burst. She was furious. How dare he think she’d try to trap him into marriage.
Get real—what century was he living in?
Her anger grew that he suspected she had some angle to play. Hadn’t he gotten to know her at all when they’d been seeing each other? What she’d told him was true, this was a huge miracle and she’d give thanks for her child every day of her life—if she was able to deliver a healthy baby. Her doctor hadn’t been at all certain about that possibility.
Let Trace go his own way. Neither she nor the baby needed him.
Trace spun around, wishing there was something he could put his fist through. Uttering an expletive, he clenched his hands. The sudden anger threatened to explode. He turned back and watched Cath get into a cab.
Blast it all. He did not need this. He’d thought Cath someone he could trust.
He’d even been trying to rationalize their seeing each other from time to time—like the times he needed an escort to some formal event. Or even have them get together for coffee on the weekend and discuss the company business.
He’d been played for a fool like before—with Cynthia.
The first time could be excused. Especially since he’d been a twenty-one-year-old kid at the time. But he’d been around the block more than once since then. How could he have trusted her? They should have taken steps when they discovered the condom had been faulty.
Heshould have taken steps.
He was going to be a father.
He’d avoided any serious entanglement with a woman since his divorce—to protect his heart. He wasn’t sure he could go through something like this again. Not if he lost the baby like he lost Zach. He clenched his teeth against the old familiar ache. He kept his anger white-hot against Cynthia, but it never changed a thing.
Trace didn’t know how long he stood on the busy sidewalk after Cath left. Finally he realized he was growing cold. The day wasn’t one for standing around in shorts. He began running again. He headed for home and the decisions that had to be made.
Once at his apartment, he quickly went to change. He stood beneath the shower for a long time, until the water ran cold. He couldn’t believe it. For a moment the sheer magnitude of the situation was overwhelming. A child. A baby. A boy or girl he didn’t plan on. What was he going to do?
How dare Cath dismiss his legitimate concerns when the condom broke and delay any action until too late! He was furious.
And awed.
A child of his own.
What would he do with an infant?
What did Cath expect of him? She hadn’t told him—he’d had to find out accidentally.
Would she ever have told him?
