Just Desserts (Holland Springs #4)

Just Desserts (Holland Springs #4) Page 28

“We’ll get through this.” Tightening his arms around her, he exhaled. “Together.

“Promise?” she sniffed.

“I swear it.”

She relaxed in his arms, his words calming her more than the heat and steam ever could. He only hoped he could live up to her expectations.

Daisy was late.

She placed her hand over her stomach, and then smoothed the material of her long-sleeved shirt down. Then she did it again. And again.

Sebastian hadn’t touched her sexually in days, but she wasn’t so sure that was a bad thing. In the meantime, he’d taken her everywhere, showing her the sights and keeping her going non-stop until she’d pass out his bed when they would finally get home.

She knew, like her, he was waiting for when she could take a pregnancy test. Even though she was as regular as rain, she’d given herself a week to account for stress.

Today was day eight.

“If you don’t want people speculating on why you’re doing that, then you might want to stop,” Sebastian murmured, his head dipping as he smiled.

They stood in the family planning aisle of the drugstore. Condoms, lube, and every other contraceptive device known to man and woman were on the same aisle as pregnancy tests and ovulations kits.

“Don’t you think when we buy—” she jerked her head in the direction of the pregnancy tests, “—people will figure it out on their own?

His lips flattened for a brief moment. “True, but it doesn’t mean we have to help them along.”

Edging closer to him, she chewed on the inside of her cheek. “How long would you want this to be a secret?”

Frosty blue eyes met hers. “For as long as possible.”

Her blood turned to ice and her hand shook as she reached for the first brand she recognized. “I thought…you promised you’d—”

His big hand fit over hers and squeezed lightly. The ice in her veins thawed. Slowly, like a glacier melting in the spring. “Despite our rather public engagement, I value my privacy, and I’d rather you not be stressed by the extra attention you’d received if…you needn’t be.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted.

“That you are…um…?”

Good grief. Neither of them could actually say the word pregnant. Maybe neither of them wanted the situation to be real, or maybe neither of them could handle if it became real.

Nodding, she chewed on the inside of her cheek. “And how I’ll feel if I’m not.”

He grabbed a second test and they began to walk down the aisle. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

After paying for their purchases, they walked next door to the village’s grocery store. Every so often, she’d hear the distinct click of a camera.

“Do you have your list?” Sebastian asked casually. Cheerfully. As if their entire future wasn’t in her purse and possibly her uterus.

Perplexed by his sudden mood swing, she asked, “Why are you so happy now?”

He raised his brows and inclined his head slightly to the right. Another click. The doors to the grocery store opened as a woman, pushing a buggy with a small child in the front, darted through. The little boy babbled about something and the mother, replied with a, “Wait ‘til we get home, Oliver, and then we’ll play.”

Daisy’s heart rate kicked up. That could be her. Shopping. Alone and talking to her child, without actually understanding anything he was saying. She broke out in a cold sweat and her knees went all wobbly.

Somehow, she made it inside without falling flat on her face. The cool air and Sebastian’s breezy attitude were actually calming her down. By the time they were done and headed back outside to his car, she was smiling and joking with him.

“Just because you’re on vacation doesn’t mean I am,” she reminded him, taking the little pot of African Violets from the buggy. “I still have your brother’s wedding to cater, which means more recipes to try out while I’m here.”

He maneuvered the buggy to the cart return. “There is a God.”

“Of course there is. Which reminds me, you made me forget to say my prayers last night, because I was too exhausted to even remember my name.” They’d climbed eleventy-billion steps at the ruins of an old keep built on the edge of a cliff. Sebastian had held her hand or arm the entire time, cautioning her against slipping.

“I’m not helpless,” she had joked.

Sliding his gaze to her stomach, and then back at her face, he had replied, “But I am.”

Don’t think about that. Be in this moment.

He gave her a funny look. “Seriously?”

She placed a hand on her hip. “My best friend is the daughter of a preacher. What do you think?”

“That she need never to meet mine.”

She blinked. “Why?”

The corner of Sebastian’s mouth lifted. “In his spare time, Liam travels the world, challenging theists on their beliefs.”

Isabella’s spare time consisted of mission trips to third world countries, running faith-based food pantries and volunteering at women’s shelters. “Ye-ah, I think you’re right.”

“I think this is a topic best left to professionals,” he said with a wink. “Religion’s not really my thing either.”

“Whatever.” Frowning, she got in the car, watching as he jogged to the other side. “I wasn’t planning on converting you,” she muttered to the interior as he joined her. “Except to putting the steering wheel on the right side.”

He closed the door, fastened his seatbelt and started the engine. “It is on the right side.”

“Not for me.” She gripped the door as he merged into traffic. “I feel all discombobulated.”

“Hold on to your knickers.” Laughing, he raced the car through the streets, making her stomach drop. She glared at him, but it was short-lived.

Sebastian’s house was a short drive from the center of town, or rather the village. It was a beautiful place, all charming shops and sidewalks lines with trees. They even had to drive over a bridge that crossed a river with large rocks and a mill with a water wheel that was still in use. In short, so far, her trip had lived up to every fantasy and Internet image she’d ever seen.

She sighed as they went through the opening in the tall brick wall surrounding his property and pulled onto the semi-circle gravel drive. The newly installed iron gates closed behind them, leaving behind the outside world and prying eyes.

Three stories of brick with ivy creeping up the sides, back and front, greeted them, with lots of big windows. There was a kitchen garden in the backyard, filled with every herb imaginable. Flowers beds were everywhere. Bees, butterflies, and hummingbird flitted and buzzed from flower to flower. Trees ancient and graceful bent toward the house, with shady bases perfect for reading.

It was charming.

Sebastian parked the car beside the old stable turned garage, and then raised her hand to his lips. “You look exhausted. Let me take care of the groceries.”

“Do all earls bring in their own groceries?”

He smiled, devilishly handsome. “This earl does.”

Another sigh.

He was charming.

She was in love, and possibly pregnant.

Oh God. She was in trouble.

Glancing down at the boxes in her purse, she took a depth breath. In about three minutes, she’d find out just how much trouble.

Sebastian finished putting up the groceries in record time. Unfortunately.

He needed to find something else for them to do, because if he didn’t, he’d end up making love to her again.

And he couldn’t do that right now, not until they knew.

“I’m going to, uh…I’m—” Her face turned as red as the roses that bloomed in the garden. “I’ll be back.”

One look at her retreating form and he sagged against the door to his art studio. He was terrified, not only of possibly becoming father but of the lie that still was between them. The lie he still hadn’t fessed up to.

After today, he told himself. Let them get through today and he would reveal all. He would confess, move Heaven and earth, and if he had to, walk five hundred miles on his knees to beg her forgiveness.

He heard the toilet flush, the sound of water running, and the door swinging open. His stomach knotted tight, like a hangman’s noose. He lurched towards the stairs and she met him halfway, her cheeks still bright flags of color.

“Do you mind if we have a movie marathon today, instead of going everywhere?” Daisy asked. “I’d like to finish your grand tour of the house, too.” She’d changed into her signature swingy skirt and form-fitting cardigan. The ring he’d given to her caught his eye. Today, her chopsticks were the exact color of the pink diamond in the middle. He knew this, because he’d had that pair made to match it.

“As long as you don’t mind if I watch whatever you pick through my eyelids,” he said lightly. God, he would need to be at home if the results were positive.

He followed her up the stairs to the third floor. She entered the theater first.

"I think I could live in your kitchen forever,” Daisy said as he sat down beside her on a large sofa big enough for two grown men to stretch out on together. She curled her legs to the side and picked up his iPad.

“You only want me for my bun warmers?” He thumped his chest and let out a mock groan of pain, deciding that humor was the only way he could calm them down. “That hurts, darling.”

“Bless your heart.” She glanced down at his iPad, pressed the home button, and frowned. “Speaking of buns.”

“Sorry?”

Handing him his iPad, she narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t you read this, your royal ogleness?”

“My what?” He glanced at the screen to find a recent image of the two of them, only he’d been captured checking out her ass. The article was filled with questions and quasi-facts. Apparently, the two of them were playing house and a close friend of Sebastian’s told the Internet magazine—in complete anonymity, of course—that Daisy was set on having the new heir of Spenserfield.

He ignored that part and whistled. “Check out the bum on that bird.”

“That bird’s bum is mine, and you’re the perv checking me out!”

“Admit it—you liked it.”

Her lips twitched. Yeah, she’d liked it. “Hmpf. Check out the next page,” she said.

He swiped the screen. An image of her eyeing his arse loaded. As were the comments. After reading a few, he shutdown the machine. One should never read comments.

She turned to him. “Time’s up. I left my phone in your car. Be right back. I want to be able to call Isabella and Haven if I need to, that is… if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” he murmured. Who would he call? His brother? His cousin? Liam?

“I’ll be back in a minute and I’ll get the sticks. We can look at the…results together.” She hurried to the door. “And then make plans. Or not.”

He frowned, listening to her light footsteps as she ran down the two flights of stairs and out the front door. After the first night, they’d taken to using the side entrance to the house, which was a shame because the front door had been what sold the place for him. The heart-shaped knocker something he’d thought Daisy would fanc—he jumped to his feet.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he chanted, running downstairs. Please don’t let me be too late.

He yanked open the door and there Daisy stood, a sort of blank look on her face. “Does every house in England have heart-shaped door knockers?”

Wordlessly, he shook his head.

“When did you buy this house?” she asked, her voice thin.

“Last spring. A very good friend said I needed to have a happy place,” he said slowly. “So I bought this house with her in mind.”

She opened her mouth, and then shut it. Her pretty eyes became shiny with tears.

“Talk to me, darling. Shout at me…I don’t care, but bloody hell, don’t stay quiet,” he said, reaching out to touch her.

She stumbled back, shaking her head. “Why? Of all the people in the world you could have messed with, why me? What did I ever do to you?”

“It’s not like that. I care about you.” He took a step towards her.

“You only care about yourself,” she spat.

He recoiled. Hadn’t he said nearly the same words to his father after learning about Vladimir’s deception? About his plans for a future Sebastian had no say in. Hadn’t he done the very same thing to Daisy?

“You used me, and you lied to me the entire time.” She struck her fist against her thigh. “You made me lie to the people I love, over and over again. I had to lie to strangers, to some poor woman, who for some unknown reason, is still in love with you.”

“No, I take that back. I know why she loves you, because you’re this charming, tortured man who women think they can bring out the best in. You’re the hero in every romance novel I’ve read. A tortured soul who only needs the love of a good woman to save him. Ha! You’re a liar, and the only thing you want is whatever suits you at the time. I refuse to do that anymore and I sure as hell refuse to save you,” she added.

He stood there, unable to defend himself from the truth. Unable to do anything more than agree with her. “You’re right.”

“I know I’m right.”

“And I would do it again, Daisy.”

She fisted her hands on her hips. “Excuse me?”