Page 37 of The Author

He pulled my hand down and kissed my cheek.

“I can get some make-up to cover it up if you feel self-conscious about it.”

It wasn't that I felt self-conscious I didn't want my mum to blame Kyle for it.

“I have a cover story for us,” he said with a smile.

I searched his eyes, and he had a soft look in them. His hand rested on my belly, and I felt excited about finally having a baby. I hesitated.

“Tell me. Why are you worried?”

I swallowed hard before I spoke.

“You won't—ah. Babies cry a lot when they are born. You won't get angry, will you?” I asked, looking away from him as I fiddled with the soft cotton of his top.

“I've learnt my lesson about acting first and thinking later. Patience is something I have been learning,” he said cryptically.

My mind was racing with so many things. My house would still be okay as I’d had plenty of money in my account to continue paying the bills. My mum wouldn't be happy, but if Kyle had a good cover story, she might buy it.

How would a baby fit into the equation?

Another thought occurred to me.

“You believe that I didn't steal your manuscript?” I asked hesitantly. He had been so furious before, and I didn’t know why he had changed.

His eyes narrowed on me, and his lips tightened.

“It makes no difference to this outcome. You're mine, little lamb, and you're not going anywhere.”

I stared at him. He wasn't telling me everything.

He let out a heavy breath.

“It’s best to get it all out. You know Rathbournes had a fire. Some of their equipment was damaged, and the software that they used to run the plagiarism checks malfunctioned. It was weeks before their lazy asses checked both manuscripts manually to discover the error.”

“But—” I started to say. My mind was reeling. He knew I was innocent?

“But nothing,” he cut me off, gripping my waist. “You're mine. You carry our child, and you can run, scream, or hide, and I will hunt you down, Faye.”

I rubbed my temples. He had known this and kept it from me.

“If you spiral out of control, Faye. I will have little choice but to lock you up again,” he said calmly. “You would only come out for the baby’s health checks.”

Oh my God, he had thought that far ahead?

“This changes nothing,” he gritted out.

I glared at him for a moment and then remembered what started all this.

“Wait. How did my book do?” I asked, cringing at the question, but my head felt too muddled.

He grinned.

“Number two on the bestsellers list in your genre.”

I scrambled up to try and get to a laptop, but he pulled me back down onto his lap.

“It's just a book,” he said, nuzzling his face into my neck.

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