Page 87 of Bride Under Contract

‘Don’t compare me to your father, because I shall take care of my child, and you. But not—’

‘I get it.’ She put her hands up. ‘I don’t think I can do this...’

‘Your period is not even late.’ Carter would not let her end things here. ‘And we’re going for dinner,’ he told her.

‘With your lawyer and his wife?’

He didn’t correct her—didn’t tell her that it would only be Jonathon. He just nodded when she gave a bitter smile.

‘I might give it a miss, thanks.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

IN NO MOOD for candles, Grace flicked on the Do Not Disturb light and took off her clothes and curled up in bed.

It was pouring again, the rainwater cascading off the towers and sliding down the glass windows. It looked cold and wintry outside, though she knew it was hot.

The reverse of Carter.

Sitting in that room with Jonathon had hurt, but she’d already pretty much known Carter’s take on fatherhood.

And she didn’t know if she was angry because he didn’t want a baby that might not even exist, or hurting because he could not, would not, did not love her.

It felt back to front to be considering saying no to marriage because she loved the groom—far too much!

Carter didn’t exactly rush dinner, and the towers were in darkness by the time he came back to their bedroom.

He saw Grace close her eyes as he undressed.

‘I know you’re awake,’ Carter said.

She didn’t answer.

He climbed into bed and lay there for ages.

‘Definitely awake...’ he said into the dark silence.

He was going back into the jungle to find hope for them, but he might be losing her in the process. Only he didn’t know how to reach out. How to explain that he didn’t know what he’d find there—or, worse, would come back the same? Closed off and cold. Great for sex and money, just not for the love she silently demanded.

She finally fell asleep. Carter knew because she rolled into him. And he lay there trying to work out the route he’d be taking in the jungle.

Every time he closed his eyes he felt as if he was perched up high, flying over Kuala Lumpur, or high in the jungle, looking for the banyan tree, or some familiar sign...

He snapped his eyes open, felt the relief of her limbs around his and her head on his chest, and he didn’t even attempt to lever her off....

Damn you, Arif.

If the windows here opened he’d take that damn silver teething ring and toss it out now...

He closed his eyes, only he saw his brother again, peering over his mother’s shoulder. Hugo’s fat hand reaching out. And there was a scream building, his body paralysed as his heart beat a tattoo in his chest, and he shot awake, felt the icy drench of sweat as he gulped in air.

Grace could feel his hand on her arm, and she felt as if her body was a cheat—because it disobeyed her strict orders to turn away, or return to its corner and come out fresh for the next round. She didn’t want this fight, if that was what they were having.

‘You’re lying to me,’ Grace said into the dark. ‘I don’t know about what, I just know that you are.’

‘Grace...’

He didn’t deny it, instead he silenced he questions the best way he knew how.

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