The Ruthless Caleb Wilde

She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t pregnant, they were. But she knew that wasn’t true; men talked about being pregnant in TV sit-coms, where they were always thrilled to find out they were on their way to becoming fathers.

This was real life, and she knew, firsthand, how that went.

“I don’t like your hotel room.”

“You haven’t seen it.”

“Of course I saw it. Just yesterday.”

“Caldwell made those arrangements, not me. I’m staying at—”

“I don’t care where you’re staying. I don’t want to go there.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “What is this, a turf war?”

“Of course not,” she said quickly—except … it was.

No way was she going to give him any kind of psychological advantage.

“Fine,” he said grimly. “We’ll go to your place.”

The scene of the crime, she thought, and felt a rush of color flood her face.

“We can talk here. I mean, we don’t have much to talk about. I already told you, I’m not going to ask anything of you or—”

His hands closed on her elbows and he raised her to her toes. New Yorkers, whose day-to-day survival skills made them blind to almost everything, flowed around them like water around a boulder in a stream.

“This isn’t about you or me,” he said, each word clipped. “It’s about this—this situation we created.”

“It’s a baby,” she said, trying to keep her voice from quavering, “not a situation.”

“You know what I mean.”

“What I know,” she said, “is that I’ve already reached a decision.”

“You made that decision without consulting me.”

“You’re not part of this.”

He laughed, although the sound wasn’t pleasant.

“You’re carrying my kid. I intend to do the right thing about him. Her. It.”

Hell, he was getting lost in syntax, and what did syntax matter at a time like this?

“The right thing.” She looked at him. “What, exactly, does that mean?”

“You want an honest answer?” For the first time, he looked less than certain. “I don’t know. And that’s what we have to talk about.”

She nodded.

And, dammit, he thought, were those tears rising in her eyes?

A fist seemed to close around his heart. She looked so young, so lost, so vulnerable.

Without thinking, he bent his head and brushed his lips lightly over hers.

A mistake. He knew it instantly, even as her mouth softened under his.