“There’s nothing you can do now.”
“Just give me the chance. Midnight craving food runs. Foot rubs. Doctor’s appointments—”
“You don’t get it, do you?” her voice wavered. She couldn’t look at me. “It’s over, Nick. The Bennetts have caused me nothing but pain. You don’t deserve the chance to be a part of my life, and I’ll be damned if you’re part of the baby’s.”
The rage flared, quick and hot. “That’s my child too, Sarah.”
She said nothing. Maybe I didn’t deserve anything more than her silence, but my child did.
“You aren’t leaving me.”
“I won’t let this baby grow up in this madness. He deserves better than what happened to me.”
“I agree. That’s why I won’t let anything harm you or him.”
“It’s too late for that,” she said. “I’ve already been harmed. Many times. Too many times. You did nothing. You still can’t protect me, not while Darius is alive and looking for me.”
“Don’t waste a single thought on him. I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ve lost myself in fear of your father for too long,” she whispered. “But not anymore. You and I will end him, and then I’m gone.”
“And you plan to…what?” I asked. “Have a baby alone?”
“What alone?” she shrugged. “I am Sarah Atwood. I am a goddamned billionaire. I have farms, ranches, land, and control over two companies. My farm is one of the wealthiest top ten private companies in the fucking world.”
“So?”
She scoffed. “So? My child will have the best of everything. The best home. The best clothing and toys and opportunities. The best education. The best tutors in languages and business and art and any topic he’d ever want to learn. He will want for nothing.”
“What about a father?”
She didn’t hesitate. “I had a father, and the only thing he did was make me feel unwanted and unappreciated.”
“You don’t think I’d be as cruel as Mark Atwood.”
“No, you’re a Bennett. You’d be worse.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve made my decision.”
“And you didn’t consult me.”
“You don’t have a say in it, Nicholas.”
“I have every right! You are carrying my child!”
I didn’t let her move away. The guilt lacerated me with every backwards step she took to flee from me. Her back pressed against the wall, and I’d forever hate myself for pinning her there, my arms on either side of her body.
“Do you think I’d let you leave me? Do you think I wouldn’t spend every dollar to my name, call in every favor my family is owed, and slit any throat to track you to the ends of the earth?”
“You sound just like Darius.”
The accusation was meant to hurt, and it did. I clenched my teeth. “I was taught family was worth more than any stock, land, or company.”
“We aren’t a family.”
“We could be. You and me and the baby.”
“It will never work.”
I leaned down to feel the warmth of her body. God, I missed this woman. “How do you know?”
She squirmed against the wall. “Please, let me go.”
“No.”
“Damn it, Nick. You didn’t kidnap me because you wanted to start a family. You raped me to get an heir to my family’s farm.”
“I never raped—” The memory struck both of us. I buried the truth. “I never intended to hurt you. It’s not the same now as when we first took you. We’re meant for each other.”
“We’re not.”
“We’re both broken. The only time I feel remotely human is when I’m with you. My heart stops when I’m near you, but it’s because of you I even have this empathy. You saved me from becoming a monster like…”
I couldn’t say it. Neither could she.
I continued, dragging a breath just to smell her sweet scent. “I could spend every day for the rest of my life trying to earn your forgiveness, and you’d have the right to hate me. I only ask that you let me try. Let me be part of this. Let me…”
I reached for her, gently brushing the back of my hand along her stomach, pressing just enough to feel her warmth through the shirt. Somewhere, deep inside her, the greatest miracle and the most dangerous complication to our lives snuggled safe and warm.
I couldn’t live without her.
I wouldn’t live without the child.
She let me touch her only because she had no other escape, but I wasn’t losing the chance to feel her once more.
I leaned in. Her breathing hitched. She stilled as I pressed my lips to hers. That was honest. That was genuine. The swelling hardness and her wavering sigh wasn’t a reaction we could deny.
Her kiss answered with the same ragged desperation—two months of loss and struggle and exhaustion shattered in the shared heat that drew us together. The nibbled pleasure strengthened me. Her touch, her shiver, every supple quiver of her body belonged to me and me alone.
I lost her to fear, but she wouldn’t push from my arms. Not when she promised more in the reluctant brush of her lips than any words she had spoken since she returned to us.
I might have pressed hard against her. Held her against the wall and cupped her thighs, her ass, her breasts. In another time, without the hesitance and uncertainty, I wouldn’t have waited. Sarah would’ve landed on the bed, spread beneath me in a murmur of protests and the relentless heat of a vixen waiting to be taken.
But my hand rested on the vulnerable, quiet part of her. I wouldn’t jeopardize her or him, not when they were both so fragile. I savored the kiss but pulled away, holding her pale, widened eyed gaze.
She hid secrets and fears and pain from me. It tore me apart.
“Let me love you,” I whispered. “Let me show you that I can protect you and pleasure you and be a father to my—”
The touch was too much. Or maybe it was the promise.
Sarah cried out, batting my arms and rushing to the center of the room.
Away from the bed.
She fought the harsh coughing that stole her breath and shoved me away when I wanted nothing more than to help her.
“Don’t. No.” She closed her eyes and murmured the words once more to herself. “I can’t.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to go.”
“Ask me anything else.”
“There is nothing else, Nick. You know what we have to do to free ourselves from this nightmare.”
“It’s not a nightmare with you. Not for me.”
“That’s the difference then, isn’t it?” she hadn’t cried yet, but the tears slipped now. “I’m living in the hell you caused. The only thing you can do for me is to help punish the one responsible and then let me go…” Her words broke. “If you cared for me at all, you won’t have me say it again.”
“It’s because I care for you so much that I’d make you say it, again and again, every minute of the day, until you realize the mistake you’re making.”
“It will only hurt you.”
“I’m in love with you, Sarah Atwood. And nothing you say or do will hurt me more than my own guilt. I want you to be mine. I’m asking you to be mine.”
“You can’t give me a choice now. Not after everything that’s happened. Not now that you’ve gained everything you and your father wanted from me.”
“I have an heir,” I said. “And my name will live on, but Sarah, my life is meaningless without you.”
Her words echoed with heartache. “Why do I wish we’d never met?”
I encroached again, tipping her chin, taking a kiss salty with tears from lips numb with sorrow.
“I wish I hadn’t either,” I said. “If only so I could start again, right here, right now, and love you the way I should have loved you from the beginning.”
I released her, giving her the space she needed. She should have been held, warmed, caressed. Instead, she cradled herself. Alone.
“I’ll take care of my father. Trust me. You’ll never have to think of him again.”
Her hand covered her stomach. “I won’t let you take this revenge from me.”
Taking a life while nurturing a life. She thought it was her right. I would never let it happen, never let the blood stain her hands or that final innocence be lost.