Page 64 of Hayes

He shook his head. "My mind is made up,” he told her firmly. "I am going to ring down for something to eat. I am assuming you are hungry?"

"Not yet. I need to talk to you about something else."

"I am listening."

"I want us to get married."

"You heard what the doctor said. I want us to get married too, but we can wait."

"We could get married here. In the Great Hall. Just us, your mother and my aunt. I want to be your wife more than anything else in the world.

We could stick to the New Year wedding date and get married. I swear to you that I am not going to lift a finger except to order my dress. And speaking of getting married, I am unofficially engaged to you because I am not wearing a ring." She looked pointedly at her bare left hand.

"Something I am about to remedy," he told her softly. "And yes, I think we should get married. I wanted a lavish ceremony to put the wagging tongues at rest."

"We could take pictures as proof and give Celeste the first scoop; she would be over the moon about that."

"You know I would love nothing more than to marry you,” he stated, still hesitant. He had been scared when he received the call which had pulled him out of a meeting to rush to the doctor.

He was supposed to be traveling, but he was afraid that as soon as he left, something would happen and secretly, he did not want to leave for fear that she was going to leave again. The awful insecurity was not him, and it was driving him crazy.

"Then say yes."

"I adore you."

She gave him a puzzled look, feeling the tension in his fingers.

"I know. Hayes–"

"Marrying you means that you would think twice about leaving me." He knew it was a mistake as soon as the words were uttered. It was confirmed when she drew her hand away and shifted. "I meant–"

"I know what you meant." Her tone was cool, and he watched with a sinking heart as she drew further away and propped herself up on the pillows.

"I am getting tired of the insecurities. I am not going to spend the rest of my damn life apologizing for leaving. I am here now, and I have told you countless times that I am not going anywhere. I am carrying your baby! What more do you want?"

"You shouldn't get upset. The doctor–"

"I will get upset if I damn well feel like it," she told him, dark brown eyes flashing. "What is it going to take to make you forgive me and allow us to move on?"

Sliding off the bed, he strode over to the wall, nestled next to the large fireplace, and jabbed at a button. When the cabinet whooshed out silently, he carefully selected a bottle of scotch, pouring some into a glass before turning to look at her. "I would offer you some, but it's not allowed." Lifting the glass to his lips, he took a sip.

"When you left, you destroyed something inside me. I felt my heart breaking into tiny pieces, and when I went looking for you, I was maddened to the point where I could barely function." Shrugging one broad shoulder, he took another sip.

"I was not used to that kind of thing. I guess you could say that I was a player. I had fun with girls, and I loved sex—the physical aspect of it fascinated me. Women fascinated me, and I could not get enough. It made it much easier because I did not have to do the chasing.

Then I met you." he smiled grimly. "You weren't my type. I had been with black girls before, but they were all of a certain weight. But there was something about you that I could not forget, could not ignore, and I found myself getting more and more intrigued and drawn."

Finishing the drink, he turned to pour some more and took it with him to the sofa across from the bed. Green eyes wandered over her face, and he felt the familiar pull of intense desire that happened every time he looked at her or even when she was near.

"When I first touched you, I knew without a doubt that I would never be the same again. And I was right.

The more time I spent with you, the more I realized the potent effect you have on me." Leaning back in the chair, he stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles. "When I made love to you, it sealed it for me. I bought a ring." His voice dropped hoarsely. "An exquisite square-cut diamond that took up all of my allowances.

I wanted to marry you so badly that I dreamed about it. I had plans–" Tossing back the drink, he slammed the glass down. "So, forgive me if I am having a hard time trying to let go of what happened. That I question your every move. That I wonder if you are going to leave–"

"Stop it!" she cried. The tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she felt as if her heart was burning a hole inside her chest. Every word he said to her had felt as if a knife was stabbing into her skin. "Please, I cannot bear it."

Shaking his head, he stumbled to his feet, staring at the woman in his bed. "I am sorry," he whispered hoarsely.

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