Page 34 of An Heir Made In Hawaii (Hot Winter Escapes)

“That’s who I am.”

She frowned. “Who you are today, yes. But what about your past? Your family?”

He went cold inside. He’d just wrapped his head around accepting that he was going to be a father. He’d shared more about his past and David’s death than he had with any woman he’d ever been with.

Why can’t that be enough?he thought irritably.

“Perhaps later.”

Her face fell a moment before she drew herself up, her eyes flashing. “I see how this is going to go. You get to hear about all my past, all the darkest parts of my life, but when it comes time for you to share, you’re allowed to keep things close to your chest.”

“I did share back in Hawaii. And you didn’t have to share anything with me just now. That was your choice.”

“Doesn’t not sharing defeat the purpose?” she challenged him. “I thought this was about getting to know each other because we’re going to be raising a child together. You’re the one who made the choice to be involved, to push for us to spend time together.”

“Yes, but as you pointed out, we aren’t in a romantic relationship. Getting to know each other as much as we need to in order to be successful parents is one thing. We both have the right to keep other secrets.”

She reared back as if she’d been slapped.

“You’re right,” she said stiffly. “Thanks for lunch. We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

A fierce wind whipped through the parking lot as she climbed in her car and drove away, piercing his clothes with icy fingers that left him cold on the outside. He preferred that to the coldness inside his chest.

CHAPTER TEN

ASHARPPAINradiated up Anika’s arm. She swore, dropping the hammer as she brought her hand up and sucked on her thumb. She’d woken that morning to a sky made all the more blue against the backdrop of a ground covered in a pristine layer of white.

The hope that maybe today would go by without anything bad happening had lasted all of seven minutes. She’d walked out onto the front porch and spied one of the thin pillars leaning precariously. The base had rotted through. If it wasn’t fixed soon, the roof over the porch was in danger of collapsing. She hadn’t budgeted for a repair like this, so she’d pulled out her hammer and tools. Marija had taught her many things, from cooking buckwheat dumplings from scratch to wielding a screwdriver. Skills necessary for running every aspect of a family-owned inn.

She’d waited until the sun had risen a little higher and at least given an illusion of warmth outside before she set to work. She’d managed to get the roof of the porch jacked up and the pillar lowered onto the floor. She’d been working on prying out the rotten base for the past ten minutes. Frustrated with her lack of progress, irritated that her morning was quickly going by, and exhausted from her fight with Nicholas the day before—not to mention growing a baby—she’d made a stupid mistake and brought the hammer down on her finger.

She loved the house itself, loved aspects of her job. But when it came to things like this, balancing all of the to-dos that needed to be completed in order to make the inn successful on top of the administrative duties that awaited her, she didn’t care for it. And that made her feel guilty. Guilty because she loved the house, the memories, the one remaining link to her family.

Guilty because the thought of running this place by herself, of putting dreams like traveling on hold while she clawed her way out of this hole, made her feel frustrated and helpless. It was why she had been so testy with Nicholas the day before. She had struggled to answer his questions about her desire to travel because until she’d gone to Hawaii, she hadn’t realized how restless she had become. Growing up here as a child after losing her mother, she had craved the stability that living with Marija had brought her. Moving across an ocean to live in a new country had brought its own sense of adventure. She’d been happy here. When she’d first started to help with the administrative duties, she had been so focused on getting the inn back to its original state that she hadn’t even been aware of any dissatisfaction.

In the months after Marija’s funeral, she had chalked up her increasing negativity to depression, the natural progression of emotions after such a loss. How could the inn be a burden? It had been a connection to her past, to the incredible people wo had come before her, who had survived in this building for over one hundred years. That legacy, that connection to the past, had made her feel a part of something when she had felt so alone. After everything Marija had done for her, she owed it to her to keep the inn going.

So why now did she look at this building and not feel the excitement, the comfort, the sense of belonging that she used to? Why, when she looked at it as she was growing the next generation inside her, did she feel only defeated and exhausted?

It wasn’t just her growing discontent with the inn or Nicholas’s questions that had put her in a foul mood. It was his complete lack of sharing anything about himself. The man wanted—no, demanded—that she share herself with him. Yet clearly, he was not going to reciprocate.

As the pain in her hand subsided, she rocked back on her heels and glanced in the direction of the Hotel Lassard. Even with the trees bare of leaves, the woods were thick enough she couldn’t see the hotel.

She had been enjoying lunch, even when he’d been questioning her about her feelings on travel. She had enjoyed listening to him when he had shared what little he had. Seeing his eyes focused on her when she spoke, it was yet again easy to see why he was so popular with women when he could look at one and make her feel like she was the focus of his universe.

A dangerous place for her mind to go, given that he had told her multiple times that he had no interest in taking their relationship beyond co-parenting.

Not that she had any interest in anything but co-parenting. She simply had not anticipated that Nicholas would have any interest in parenting on any level. He seemed like the kind of man to offer her a large check, ask for perhaps the occasional photo, and otherwise continue on with his life. That he wanted to be involved had both astonished her and warmed her heart.

However, after yesterday’s argument, seeing the extent of how much he wanted to get to know her but how little he was willing to share of himself, she’d wondered if Nicholas might be experiencing a change of heart. If not now, soon, perhaps.

The sound of gravel crunching made her look up. A red sports car pulled up in the circle drive. Her heart leaped into her throat as Nicholas climbed out of the driver’s seat and circled around the hood, looking like an ad for men’s luxury outerwear in a black peacoat and a scarlet scarf looped around his neck.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Irritation edged out the awareness that had been spreading across her skin.

“Having a tea party.”

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