‘Comparing the circumstances I’ve just described to you with what you proposed a short while ago, do you think a man in my position, and with my power, having gone through what I went through as child, will be willing to stand idly by while my child is shuffled between minders, planes, movie locations and court-ordered visitation rights?’ he gritted out.
Her mouth trembled for a second before she caught hold of herself. ‘Gael, please be reasonable—’
He broke off mid-pace and planted himself firmly in front of her. He needed her to see the intent emblazoned in his heart and mind.
‘Let me answer for you, Goldie. The scenario you propose will happen over my dead body.’
The words sank in.
Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. ‘So we’re not even going to discuss it?’
‘We just have.’
‘No, we didn’t. You’re just trying to lay down the law.’
‘I have told you what I intend not to happen with my child. We can now go on to discuss what will.’
‘Our child.’
‘What?’
‘Our child. Equal parenting. Equal responsibility.’
‘Yes—agreed. And that most definitely does not involve split homes on either side of the continent.’
‘You can’t just rule things out, Gael. We need to agree a compromise.’
‘Why compromise when I have the solution?’ he asked.
Her smooth forehead clenched in a frown. ‘We confirmed the pregnancy less than ten minutes ago. How can you have a solution already?’
‘Very easily when what’s at stake is this important.’
She gave a slight shake of her head, but her gaze didn’t leave his. She blinked, her expression turning wary with trepidation. ‘I think we need to talk about this some more.’
‘I’m finished with talking, Goldie. The soundest solution to the situation we find ourselves in is for you to marry me.’
* * *
Even though her senses had screamed at her that whatever Gael was about to propose would most likely push all her alarm buttons, the words still hit Goldie square in the chest with shocking and relentless force.
She swayed on her feet.
Gael cursed, caught her by the elbow and tugged her to the sofa. ‘Sit down, Goldie.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘I didn’t say you weren’t. I would still like you to sit. You were up half the night, throwing up, and you’ve been standing for far too long.
’
She rolled her eyes, earning herself a dark frown. ‘Women have been giving birth for thousands of years without turning into wilting flowers for the duration of their pregnancy, Gael.’
‘Sí, but none of them have had the privilege of carrying my child,’ he bit out.
Her mouth quirked in a parody of a smile, which vanished a second later. ‘Do you have any idea how pompous that sounds?’
‘You ask the question as if I care. You’re still standing, Goldie.’