Page 113 of The Billionaire's Demand

Fortunately, Raul had no doubt Libby would love their child enough for the both of them, and he would provide everything else that was needed in spades.

‘I was trying to help,’ he said gruffly, rather than admitting the truth to Libby about the deadened state of his heart.

‘I know that, and I appreciate it. But this is what I want to do for our baby. It’s important to me, and I enjoy it.’

His gaze moved from Libby to the walls of the room, seeing it with renewed interest. On one side she’d painted a circus theme—a big, bright tent with a waving flag on top, an elephant and a happy clown with a rainbow bursting out of the palm of his hand across another wall, then, on the other, it was a sky theme, with clouds and a gloriously bright sun. Not only was it cheery and warm, it was well executed, so Raul’s eyes shone with approval when they met Libby’s.

‘You’re very talented.’

She laughed softly. ‘You sound surprised.’

He lifted one hand in the air in apology, and found his lips lifting in an unexpected grin. ‘I shouldn’t be. You’re clearly a woman of many talents.’

She scrutinised the artwork on one wall. ‘I drew the outline with pencil first, until I was happy.’

He tried not to think about how many times she’d been up and down the ladder in the week he’d been away.

‘I know what I want to do in here, Raul. I was just waiting until you got back in case...’

Her voice trailed off into nothing and his gut tightened in anticipation of what she was going to say. ‘I thought you might want to be involved in selecting the furniture,’ she said with a shrug. ‘But you don’t have to. I can do it myself.’

Good. That was the wise choice. She should do it herself.

Raul had to forcibly remind himself of the importance of keeping those lines clear, their boundaries delineated. The less time they spent doing happy family-type activities, the better.

He nodded once. ‘I look forward to seeing what you pick out. I presume you can order the necessary items online?’

He ignored the look of hurt in her eyes with difficulty.

She bit into her lip as she nodded. ‘I’ll get it delivered next week.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

SOME OF THE pieces Libby had selected for the nursery were coming from Europe, and so it took almost a month for everything to arrive. She left each item in its box until the last piece was in the apartment, and by the time that had happened her stomach had become so round it was difficult to get up and down off the floor to do anything, let alone assemble furniture. She and Raul had developed an excellent routine for living in the same space whilst more or less ignoring one another—or at least appearing to.

For Libby, it had become a form of torture. How could she ignore someone who was so intrinsic to the air she breathed? His presence was so overpowering, so overwhelming, he was simply everywhere. Not just in the apartment, but in her mind, her thoughts, her dreams. It was truly frustrating because they both treated one another like polite strangers.

Even when he accompanied her to medical appointments, he was more like a chaperone than an expectant father, and misgivings had begun to form in the back of Libby’s mind. Doubts. Worries.

What if he was regretting his hasty decision to marry her? What if he was regretting his insistence on being in the baby’s life?

It had all happened so fast there hadn’t been time for regrets, but now that the dust had settled and he was faced with the reality of living with Libby—and the impending arrival of their baby—he might very well be wishing things were different.

She’d caught him staring at her several times, frowning, his expression unreadable except for the fact he was obviously thinking something—and something that didn’t bring him much pleasure. His eyes often fell to her belly—too big to ignore now. Libby had been forced to buy some maternity clothes, and even those were feeling a little tight already.

Twisting the wrench, her hand slipped and the tool fell to the ground, hitting her hard on the ankle.

‘Damn it,’ she cursed loudly, rubbing the flesh, instinctive tears filling her eyes. She’d been louder than she’d intended, and it brought Raul to the door of the nursery.

When he saw the destruction in there, she realised he hadn’t been in the place for weeks. Not since the day of the designer, when she’d apologised to him for overreacting. Almost as if he’d been ignoring the nursery?

‘What the hell happened in here?’

She stared at him. ‘What does it look like?’ She rubbed her ankle. His eyes dropped to the gesture, then he crossed the room, crouching in front of her so his jeans pulled against his haunches, and something powerful ignited in her bloodstream. A desire she’d been trying to ignore, to fight, because he’d made it clear he didn’t feel that way about her any more. He hadn’t even been close enough to touch her in over a month. So much for being friends. At this stage, she’d have settled for a conversation that didn’t feel so stilted it hurt.

‘It looks like a bomb went off,’ he admitted. ‘May I?’ His hand hovered close to her ankle but without touching. Libby was terrified that if his fingers pressed to her skin she might actually explode.

‘I’m fine,’ she demurred, moving away from him a little, standing with a total lack of elegance and rubbing her belly, then her neck, surveying the room and seeing it as he must have. In one corner, she’d stacked a heap of cardboard packaging. She’d managed to assemble the changing table and was halfway through the crib.

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