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‘We don’t have to do anything,’ Hannah spat. ‘You needed to know. I came here to tell you and I’ve done that. You need to decide what you want to do because I’m perfectly happy raising him on my own.’
* * *
Beneath the calm exterior, Matt’s head felt as if it was going to explode. He couldn’t be a father! He had no road map for this. No example of how to be a good one. He closed his eyes. He needed a moment, but his mind kept flashing the word ‘pregnant’ in neon lights.
How could he have let this happen? He was always so careful. But he knew. On their last night he hadn’t been careful. He’d just been desperate. Desperate to have Hannah. To carve out a memory so ingrained in him that even on his death bed it would be the one thing he would remember.
And now he was facing the consequences of losing control. His heart was galloping. He was furious at himself for allowing Hannah to play him like this, like the others who’d tried. He was disappointed because he’d thought she was different. And so, so frustrated because even now his body responded to her.
Matt knew he had to marshal some sort of control over what he was feeling. There was no way he could show any weakness, which was exactly what this fear was. It was a vulnerability. Something in no way acceptable to him. Calm control was the only way to find a solution. That was how he had lived his whole life—whenever he was presented with a problem, a bit of calm was exactly what he used to solve it. What his father had trained him to do. So have a moment of calm was what he did.
He pulled off his glasses and placed them on the table, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘That came out wrong, Hannah. I apologise. But you’re sorely mistaken if you think you can come in here and attempt to trap me with this scheme.’
‘Scheme?’
‘What else would you call telling me you can’t have children and sitting here, clearly pregnant?’ He fought to keep his voice even. He wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of knowing they’d got under his skin. Not even Hannah.
‘Screw you, Matt!’ she snapped.
He admired the fire still burning brightly within her, hiding under the exhaustion he could clearly see on her face, and in the way she held her body.
He didn’t know why he should care, but he pushed to his feet and walked across the office, where he opened a cabinet filled with drinks. Fetching a bottle of water, he screwed off the lid and handed it to her. She reluctantly accepted it and he watched as she drank steadily, assuming she must have really needed it if she would accept his help despite her anger towards him.
She had no right to be angry. Not when she had so clearly lied.
‘Then how would you explain it?’ he demanded.
‘I never lied to you, Matt. It wasn’t meant to happen. This baby is a miracle,’ she said, her tone harsh. ‘Now, he can be my baby, or he can be ours. That’s up to you.’
‘You expect me to just take your word for it?’ Obviously she was still lying. And what a gifted liar she was. Which made him wonder what else she was capable of lying about. ‘Not likely. I want a paternity test.’
‘What? The baby is yours! You are the only person I have ever been with without protection and I haven’t been with anyone else at all for some time!’
If he’d thought she was angry before, it was nothing to her fury now. She was incandescent in her rage.
It didn’t faze him.
‘Words, Hannah. It’s all just words.’ He leaned against his desk once more, crossing his arms over his broad chest. ‘I will arrange the paternity test—and I’m warning you now, you won’t like it if you’ve lied to me again.’
‘I haven’t lied to you at all,’ she said, looking into his eyes defiantly.
‘That’s yet to be seen.’ He couldn’t allow himself to trust her. He’d done that once already. Now he wondered how far the betrayal went. ‘Who’s come to London with you?’ Perhaps Emma; maybe Alex was here too. His friend, closer than a brother, who might have known about this and not told him. Might have hidden it from him just like Hannah had done, as if he had no right to know about what was potentially his child.
Oh, he would be calling his friend. He’d never felt anger like this before—not towards Alex, at least. After everything they’d been through, he would have thought his ‘mate’ would care enough about him to tell him the truth.
Matt watched Hannah’s brows pull together as she answered. ‘No one.’
‘Where are you staying?’
Hannah told him the name of the hotel and he ran his fingers through his tousled blond hair, heaving a sigh.
‘We have a lot to talk about. This isn’t the place. I’ll come by the hotel tonight.’
* * *
He was dismissing her. Hannah couldn’t blame him. She’d dropped a bomb in his lap without even a ‘how do you do?’, but his reaction made her blood boil. It made her question the connection she’d felt to him seven months ago and wonder if that warm man was just a fiction.
Him wanting a paternity test made sense but, right now, she didn’t want to be understanding. All she felt was anger towards this person she really didn’t know.
