“You’re the one who’s wrong if you think I don’t feel something for you.”
“Not love—” She gasped as he caught her upper arms and pulled her flush against him.
A long silence followed her statement, punctuated only by their ragged breathing. Despite being angry with her, desire sank long talons into him. He could take her to bed and make love to her until she stopped thinking. He’d bring her to the edge of orgasm over and over until she admitted that he was the only man she would ever belong to like that.
But eventually they would have to leave the bed and the arguments would begin all over again. He wouldn’t compromise, and neither would she. Round and round with no hope that either one would bend.
“I guess we’re at an impasse then,” he said. His hands fell away. She’d gotten what she wanted. She had no reason to marry him, which made his deal with her father null and void. He had nothing more to fight for. “I hope you don’t regret this decision.”
Emma turned her back to him, but not before he saw her mouth twist into a grim line. “Why would I?”
“Because with me, for better or worse, you know exactly what you get. Will you be so sure of the next guy?”
When she didn’t answer, Nathan retreated to the bedroom to gather his things. He dressed quickly and came to stand before her. She hadn’t moved while he was packing, but now, her hand lifted toward his sleeve.
Before she touched him, he spoke. “Goodbye, Emma.”
He gave the words a ring of permanence. He wanted her to understand that he was leaving her for good. No turning back.
“Goodbye, Nathan. Be happy.”
Snarling at her parting words, he walked out of the hotel suite and out of her life.
The second half of February was busy for Emma. Unenthusiastic about tackling the major remodeling job it needed, she put her loft up for sale, marketing it as is, and moved her things into a tiny two-bedroom apartment. With her jewelry selling well at Biella’s, she expanded into a couple stores in Dallas and Austin. Losing herself in work might not be a cure for heartbreak, but driving herself to exhaustion was a boon to her jewelry inventory.
Nathan never showed up at her door. She wasn’t surprised. She’d refused to marry him. His deal with her father was done. So he was done with her.
She forced herself to eat even though her stomach protested at the mere thought of food. Every morning as she brushed her teeth, she confronted her ghost in the mirror. If she’d had the energy, she would have laughed at the contrast between the glowing, animated woman she’d been at Nathan’s condo and the shadowy creature she’d become.
But nights were the worst. Questions haunted her. Had refusing Nathan been the right thing to do? Was a lifetime of heartache worth her self-respect? Did he think of her? She wanted to marry for love. By standing up for what she believed in, she’d gained her self-respect and lost her heart.
Only time would tell if she’d made the right choice.
March rolled in, bringing sunshine and warmer temperatures. A day came when Emma dressed in jeans and her favorite purple blouse and went shopping. She needed groceries and one special item.
An hour later, Emma stood in her bathroom and stared at the pr
egnancy test in her hand. The instructions on the box said the test was ninety-nine percent accurate, but Emma wanted to be absolutely positive—scratch that, confident about the results.
What if she was pregnant?
Horrified brown eyes stared back at her from the mirror.
Pregnant with Nathan’s baby.
After the way he’d walked out on her, she knew he never wanted to hear from her again. A pregnancy would bring him back into her life. What would that mean?
She took the test, set the stick on the toilet tank, and left the bathroom in a daze. She needed to talk to someone, and with Addison out of town, she picked up the phone and dialed her sister-in-law, Jaime.
“Hi, stranger,” Jaime said. “Haven’t heard from you lately.”
“I’ve been sort of busy. How are you feeling?”
“I’ll be better in a week when the baby comes. Ouch. He’s active today. Lately he gets restless at night.”
Emma lifted her shirt and fanned her fingers over her still-flat midsection. She stared at her navel.
Was she going to be a mother?