Page 13 of Darla's Christmas Knight
The concern on his face morphed back into the soft, compassionate look from earlier. “I get that you’re hurting, but, love, that’s no reason to harm the baby.”
Harm the …baby?
“I know about the baby,” he continued before she could respond.
“What baby, Bobby?” she snapped.
“Yourbaby.”
She gaped at him. It took several beats to form a reply. “Why would you think I’m pregnant?”
“You’re not pregnant?”
“I’m not pregnant.” She canted her head. “But why would youthinkI was?”
Instead of answering her, he tilted the bottle and poured wine into the glass, the soft tinkle of expanding ice the only sound in the room for a long moment. He slid the glass closer to her. “I overheard a conversation about you and a baby between Sullivan and Princess Marielle.”
“And so youassumedI was pregnant.”
He shrugged a shoulder and gave her a sheepish look.
She gulped a mouthful of much-needed wine. “Then you rushed across town and came here to do … what?” She slung one arm across her stomach, crooking her other to peer at him over the rim of the glass, curiosity getting the better of her.
His skin darkened to a deep red, the color staining his neck and face. “In total transparency, Ifirstwent looking for Sullivan to beat the bloody shit out him, but lucky for him I got called back to the stables to deal with a mare in labor.” Bobby lifted the wine and took a large slug straight from the bottle. “AndthenI came here.”
He was going to “beat the bloody shit out of Sullivan” on her behalf?
That was rather sweet. And the way he blushed was adorable.
She inwardly rolled her eyes.Seriously, Darla?
Annoyed at herself for almost falling under his spell again, she took another sip of wine, focusing on the taste of berries and spices as it rolled over her taste buds.
Bobby Bell was a cad.
A breaker of hearts.
Atarnishedknight.
And she needed to remember that.
Bobby cleared his throat. “Whatwastheir conversation about? I clearly heard Princess Marielle accuse him of ‘bumping hips’ with you long enough to give you the baby you so desperately want.”
“None of your business,” she muttered.
“Darla—”
She held her hand out to stop him. “No, Bobby. You made your choice years ago when you broke things off with me.”
This time his flush wasn’t adorable. It was frustrating. She lifted the glass to her lips, drinking deeply.
“It almost killed me to walk away from you, Darla, but I had no bloody choice.”
“No choice?” she sputtered, grateful she’d swallowed most of the wine. She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth.
“I couldn’t continue a relationship built on a lie, but I also couldn’t tell you the truth. I loved you too much to place that burden on your shoulders.”
When the truth of his identity was revealed a while ago, she figured out the reason why he’d ended it.
