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“I bet your tastes run more to the boy meets girl and they both fall heavily in love with each other.”
“I don’t believe in fairytales.”
His brows lifted. “You don’t believe in love?”
“I believe in reality and I have seen too many people divorcing each other to believe that marriage lasts. The ones that do are the people who decide to stay together for the sake of the children.”
His teasing expression fled as he stared at her. “Your mother—”
“Is not a topic I will discuss with you," she told him coolly.
“I am going to say something and then I will not talk about it anymore. I want you to be prepared.”
“For?”
“What the press will dig up.”
She turned her head away to look out the porthole. They were several thousand miles in the sky, enough for her to see the puffy white clouds sliding across the clear blue. She had been thinking about that very thing ever since this happened.
Her past was going to become someone’s favorite topic and she worked in the public and knew that the juicier the story was the more they were going to milk it.
“I know.”
“And?”
She shrugged. “There is nothing to tell.” She turned her head to look at him. “She left me at the group home to chase after the man who donated his sperm.
Or so I heard when I decided to investigate. He did not want children and he made that very clear. When she became pregnant, he told her to get rid of it.” Anika smiled grimly. “Her neighbors were very chatty.
And one of them, a Mrs. Lawrence, was outraged and told me she wanted to adopt me. Appears that she babysat whenever she wanted to go out, which was almost every night. She finally decided to dump me and take off with him.
End of story.” She lifted a shoulder. “At least she did not kill me.”
He started to reach for her hand but knew instinctively that it was not a good idea and she would not allow it.
“It’s a sad story.”
“The press will sensationalize it.”
“We will put a lid on it.”
“I can spin it to my advantage. It’s what I do after all.”
“And you are very good at what you do.”
She gave him a long oblique look. “Are you trying to make me feel better?”
“Did it work?”
“That’s not your job.”
“I beg to differ.” Before she could snatch her hand away, he picked it up and kissed the back of it. “Soft.”
“Let go.” She tugged, but he held firm.
“Strong too.” There was an amused look on his face that successfully hid the churning of desire he was feeling. “There is an excellent gym at the loft, we should take advantage of it.”
He let go when she tugged and she told herself that it was not disappointment she was feeling or that her skin was not tingling from the touch of his lips on her skin.
