The Ruthless Caleb Wilde

“No,” she said, “you have to listen.”

“I’m listening,” he said in a husky whisper. “But, luckily for you, ma’am, I’m a multitasker.”

She laughed, but it was a quick laugh, and she pushed him gently away.

“Seriously, Caleb, I’m not going to take a place on Fifth Avenue, or in one of those—what’d you call them? One of those ‘handsome’ towns in Connecticut.”

He sat back. “Because?”

“Because,” she said patiently, “I can’t afford them.”

“That’s just plain silly. I can afford them.”

Hell. There it was. The narrowed eyes. The cool look.

“You’re not going to support me,” she said.

“I’m going to support our child. Did you think I wouldn’t? Did you think I’d walk away from my responsibility?”

She sat up a little straighter.

“Helping support our child is one thing but I don’t intend to be your ‘responsibility.’”

He heard the way she said the word, knew she’d taken it in a way he hadn’t meant it.

“Sage. Honey, maybe I’m saying this wrong—”

“No. It’s me saying it wrong. What I mean is—thank you for wanting to help.”

He drew back. “Do not,” he said coldly, “absolutely do not thank me.”

“I simply meant—”

“Is that what you think this is about? Me, ‘helping’ you?”

“I didn’t meant it that way. It’s just … look, I’ve been on my own for years. I can take care of—”

“If you take care of my child the way you’ve taken care of yourself—”

“For your information, I’ve done just fine taking care of myself.”

“Oh, right.” Sarcasm frosted each word. “One look at this—this palace is proof of that.”

Sage struggled with the duvet, managed to keep it clutched to her like a shield, and rose from the bed.

“You know what? I think it’s time you left.”

“Yeah. I think so, too.” Caleb strode to the door, stopped, spun around and pointed his finger at her. Anger was etched into his face. “I don’t know what kind of sorry SOB you think I am, but get this straight. I never walk away from a responsibility.”

Sage’s eyes glittered with angry tears.

“You already told me that. But this isn’t a ‘responsibility,’ it’s a baby.”

“Goddammit, of course it’s a baby! My baby.”

“This child is mine. It’s part of me. And if you think you’re going to take over where Thomas Caldwell left off—”

Caleb said something ugly. Then he turned on his heel and walked out.