“I’m not the one who made a fertility charm and left it lying around in the bedroom for anyone to pick up.”
“I said I was sorry.”
She really didn’t want to argue right now. In fact, she didn’t want to think about the possibilities Gideon had presented to her. “Why don’t we wait a while and see if there’s really anything to be sorry about?”
Another awkward moment passed, and he said, “If you want to request another partner, I’ll understand.”
Hope almost snorted. “Is that what this is about?” she snapped. “You don’t want a partner, so you go to extreme lengths to make sure—”
“No,” he interrupted, then after a pause that lasted a few seconds too long, he added, “It’s true. I don’t want a partner.”
“Then go to the chief and tell him you don’t want me as a partner. Don’t expect me to quit. I don’t quit, Raintree. Not ever.”
“He’d just assign me another one,” Gideon grumbled.
She would never admit it out loud, but it hurt that Gideon didn’t want to work with her. Not because they’d slept together and she felt there could be so much more, but because she’d worked so hard to get where she was, and she was damned tired of being dismissed by men who thought she couldn’t do her job. She couldn’t tamp her anger down. “It might be difficult to pretend to be devastated because you thought you knocked up Mike or Charlie.”
Gideon didn’t respond, so she glanced in his direction. He was almost smiling.
“I don’t think I’m pregnant,” she said sensibly, her anger fading. “We were careful. A piece of silver and a dream won’t undo that.” Super sperm aside.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said, though he didn’t sound as if he believed there was a chance in hell she was.
“Even if I am…pregnant…” Damn, it was hard to say that word out loud. “That doesn’t mean we have to get married or anything.” The M word was even more difficult than pregnant. “You don’t have to concern yourself with whatever happens to me.” She said the words, but her heart did a little flip. Single and pregnant, raising a child alone, pretending she hadn’t almost said I love you to this man who was terrified of being tied to her by a child.
“Emma’s Raintree,” Gideon said. “I will most definitely be concerned.”
“Actually, Emma is Malory,” she responded. “If there is an Emma,” she added.
“A woman who gives birth to a Raintree becomes Raintree, in many ways,” Gideon said tersely.
“I don’t think so,” she responded, wondering at his statement but afraid to ask….
“You’ve seen what I can do,” Gideon said, his voice lowered, as if someone else out here in the middle of nowhere might hear. “Emma will have her own gifts, and there’s no way I can walk away and not concern myself with what happens to her.”
They hadn’t known one another long enough for Hope to be hurt because none of his concern was for her. “Maybe this time will be differe
nt. Maybe Raintree genes won’t be dominant in this case.” Shoot, she was talking about this kid as if it was a done deal. “If I’m pregnant. Which I’m not.”
“You’re pregnant,” he said sourly.
“If I’m pregnant,” she said again, “is it really such a disaster?” Her heart flipped again. Her stomach, too. Of course it was a disaster! Maybe she did think she was in love with Gideon, but they’d just met, and she had career plans, and she was pretty sure he didn’t love her back.
“Yes!”
Hope turned her gaze to the blurred landscape again, so Gideon wouldn’t see her face. She had no right to be devastated because he didn’t want her to be pregnant. It was such a girlie reaction, to get teary-eyed over a rejection from a man she barely knew.
Maybe growing up different had been so difficult for him that he couldn’t bear to watch a child go through the same struggles. But he’d turned out okay. He had a nice life, and he helped people—the living and the dead—and he had made the most of his abilities. Maybe he did have to hide a lot of himself from the world, but he hadn’t hidden himself from her.
He cut the Mustang sharply onto the grassy shoulder of the road, startling Hope so that she snapped her head around to glare at him. “What are you doing?”
Gideon put the car in Park, and with the engine still running, he reached into her lap and grabbed a file. “Which one is this?” he asked, leafing through the pages and photos. “Doesn’t matter, does it?” He randomly grabbed a photo and held it up. The woman in the picture was lying half-on and half-off a faded sofa, blood soaking the front of her dress and her head all but severed. “There are people in the world who do things like this,” he said in a lowered voice. “If there were just a handful of the bastards, maybe I wouldn’t feel sick at the very idea of exposing an innocent child to a life where this happens every day. Every day, Hope. What if Emma’s like me and she’s faced with the horrors of death every day of her life? What if she’s like Echo and she dreams of disasters she can’t do anything about? What if—” His lips snapped closed. He couldn’t even finish his final thought.
How could she stay angry with him? He wasn’t being petty or selfish. His panic was rooted in a fear and concern for the child he claimed he didn’t want. Hope lifted her hand and touched Gideon’s cheek. Her thumb brushed against his smooth chin. He didn’t pull away from her, as she’d thought he might. “You’ve been doing this too long.”
“What choice do I have? I have an ability that allows me to put the bad guys away. If I don’t, some of them will get away with it. Some of the victims will be stuck here, caught between life and death.” He looked her in the eye. “What do you say when a little girl asks if there are monsters in the world? Yes is terrifying. No is a lie.”
She stroked his cheek. “When was the last time you had a vacation, Raintree?”