His Brand of Passion

‘I should work tonight,’ he said abruptly, and Zoe’s heart sank. Another night in front of the TV alone.

‘Don’t you get tired of working? It’s practically all you do.’

‘It’s necessary.’

‘Is it?’ She kept her voice teasing. ‘Will the company fall apart if you’re not at the helm every second of the day, fingers twitching on your phone?’

Aaron’s mouth tightened. ‘It might,’ he answered, and Zoe realised he was serious. Good grief, talk about a God complex.

‘What happens when you get sick? Or go on vacation?’

‘I don’t.’

She shook her head. ‘You’re heading for a heart attack by the time you’re forty.’

‘Considering that’s next year, I hope not.’ He gave her the ghost of a smile. ‘But thanks for the concern.’ He took his plate, clearly ready to bury himself in his office. Again. Zoe took a breath and plunged.

‘Aaron…how is a baby going to fit into your life, when it’s like this?’

He stilled, slowly turned around. ‘Surely we don’t need to talk about that now?’

‘Don’t we? I know everything is still uncertain, but we need to think about the future. How it’s going to work.’

‘It will work,’ he said tautly, and she shook her head.

‘A baby isn’t an item on your agenda, Aaron. It’s a life commitment—’

‘A week or so ago you didn’t even want me involved,’ he said shortly. ‘Now you’re talking about life commitments?’

Stung, she drew back. ‘You’re the one who said you wanted to be involved. I’m just trying to figure out how it will work.’

‘It will work,’ he repeated, and Zoe knew that was all he had: sheer determination and bull-headed arrogance.

‘Why did you change your mind?’ she blurted, because now she needed to know. ‘Less than two weeks ago you would have paid me a large amount of money to have an abortion.’

‘Are you ever going to let that go?’

‘It’s kind of a big one.’

‘I know that.’ He raked a hand through his hair and Zoe could see the lines of fatigue drawn from nose to mouth.

‘What made you want this baby?’ she asked quietly.

Aaron didn’t answer for a long moment. Zoe couldn’t tell a thing from his face, his eyes so dark and fathomless, the lines of his cheek and jaw harsh and strong in the dim light.

‘I wouldn’t have chosen this,’ he said slowly. ‘It’s hardly an ideal situation for anyone. But I could see that you were determined to keep this baby, and if a child of mine was going to enter the world…’ He paused, his gaze distant. ‘Then I wanted to be involved.’

Zoe said nothing. She felt an almost crushing sense of disappointment, which was ridiculous. What had she expected? that Aaron had had some miraculous epiphany, realised he actually wanted to be a father, a family? No, of course not. Nothing in his behaviour in the few days had indicated anything but that he was making the best of a difficult situation.

‘So,’ she finally said. ‘You’d still prefer me to have an abortion?’

‘I didn’t say that,’ Aaron said, irritation edging his voice. ‘If I did, I would have offered that instead of having you come live with me.’

‘I don’t understand you,’ Zoe said quietly and Aaron shrugged.

‘I’m not asking you to.’

The rebuff was brutal, even though it shouldn’t even have surprised her. Of course he wasn’t asking for such a thing. This domestic arrangement had nothing to do with their relationship or what little of it there was, Zoe reminded herself. That was clear from how rarely she’d seen Aaron since she’d come here, how much effort she’d had to put in to getting him to so much as sit with her for a meal.

‘Maybe I should just go,’ she said, and felt her throat thicken with humiliating tears. ‘I haven’t had any bleeding since that first time, and I can’t lie around all day.’

‘You’re not lying around all day,’ Aaron pointed out, an edge to his voice. ‘You’re working every afternoon.’

‘You don’t really want me here,’ she forced herself to say. ‘Do you?’

Another long, taut silence, and then Aaron finally spoke, the words dragged from him with obvious reluctance. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I do.’

She tried for flippancy. ‘You have a funny way of showing it.’

‘I know I do.’ He rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Look, Zoe, I’m not good with emotions or feelings or even talking about…anything. I admit that. But I don’t want you to go. I like having you here, knowing you’re safe and cared for.’ He paused and she saw a surprising vulnerability creep across his face, soften those stern features if only for a moment. ‘Maybe the best solution is to make this…more permanent.’

‘More permanent?’ she repeated in disbelief. ‘How?’

He took a breath, let it out. ‘You stay here, with me, for the duration of your pregnancy.’

CHAPTER FIVE

ZOE DIDN’T SPEAK for a few seconds; she was still processing what Aaron had just said. You stay here, with me, for the duration of your pregnancy. Finally she said the first, the only, word she could.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because…’ Her mind grasped at reasons he would understand, that she could admit to. It’s impossible. Dangerous. I might fall in love with you. ‘I just can’t.’

‘Can’t?’ he repeated. ‘Or won’t?’

‘Both.’

‘Why not?’ He sounded so reasonable, so unruffled, and she felt as if she were falling apart. Aaron’s suggestion, so calmly made, had rocked her to the core.

‘Why should I?’ she countered, knowing she sounded childish.

‘It’s not practical for you to live in some walk-up studio alone—climbing all those stairs.’

‘I’ll get a ground-floor apartment,’ Zoe said numbly.

‘Never mind that. What if something happened to you? Who would even know? As far as I can tell, you’ve lived a very independent, isolated existence.’

‘I like being independent,’ she snapped. She’d ignore the ‘isolated’ bit. ‘Anyway, what about you? I think that’s the pot calling the kettle black.’

‘I don’t deny it,’ Aaron answered evenly. ‘But I’m not pregnant.’

‘Being pregnant doesn’t mean being ill,’ Zoe flung at him and his silence was eloquent. ‘You don’t want me here,’ she said, daring him to deny it. I like having you here. She forced the memory of his reluctant confession away. Not helpful now, when she was trying to be strong.

‘I just said I did,’ Aaron answered, his voice taut.

‘Just because you want to manage me.’

‘Do the reasons really matter?’ Yes. She swallowed, said nothing. Aaron sighed impatiently. ‘Why are you so against it? It seems like an obvious and easy solution to me. You’ve already got your stuff here.’ He swept one arm out towards her paintings, the wilting ficus plant. ‘You still have your life. I’ve arranged a car for you to go to your little art sessions.’

‘My little art sessions,’ Zoe repeated numbly and Aaron sighed again.

‘You know what I mean.’

‘I know exactly what you mean. And that’s the problem, Aaron. That’s the prison.’

His mouth turned down and his eyes flashed darkly. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You’re the prison,’ she said hopelessly, because she knew it sounded melodramatic and he wouldn’t understand anyway.

He didn’t. ‘That’s nonsense.’

‘It’s not. You have no idea what it’s like living here with someone who barely wants to talk to you.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Who escapes at the first opportunity.’

‘I do not.’

‘And hides behind work.’

‘I’m not hiding!’ he thundered, the sound of his voice seeming to echo through the room and making Zoe fall silent. He let out an exasperated breath and raked a hand through his hair. ‘Just what do you want from me, Zoe? Because I don’t think it’s something I have to give.’

‘That’s a great way to open a conversation.’

‘I was trying to close it down,’ Aaron snapped and Zoe shook her head.

‘There’s no point, is there?’

‘Point to what?’

He looked so exasperated, so impatient, impervious and blank, and she knew he didn’t get it at all. What was there even to get? What was she trying to prove here—that he didn’t like her, wasn’t interested in her other than as the mother of his unwanted child? Obviously.

‘I don’t know,’ she whispered, all her fight and spunk gone in an instant, leaving only a weary despair. ‘I don’t know anything. I don’t know why you want me here, what the future will look like, how you’ll fit a baby into your life, never mind—’ She stopped suddenly. Never mind me. Except he wasn’t trying to fit her into his life—something else that was obvious.