Page 42 of Hidden Heir With His Housekeeper

She went to step around him, and he laid a hand on her waist to hold her in place.

‘I haven’t slept with anyone else since that night,’ he said. ‘And I’ve never taken a woman without protection before now,’ he added, not even sure why he felt compelled to defend himself.

But when her eyes widened at his admission, the look in them doubtful, he knew why.

He’d accused her of using him that night, but the truth was, it had always been the other way around. He’d usedher. Because she’d responded to him with an innocent enthusiasm which had made him feel connected to her in a way he’d never felt connected to any other woman. But he needed to be able to control it or he was in danger of becoming that feral kid again, looking for validation where there was none.

‘Okay,’ she said, sounding wary now.

He blocked her path as she tried to step around him again. ‘Are you okay?’

Her brow furrowed, as if the question puzzled her. He’d bet he was the only bloke she’d ever slept with. He couldn’t imagine her sleeping with other men when she was pregnant with his child, and all he’d shown her so far was hunger, and heat. The urge to show her tenderness, though, only confused him more.

‘I had several orgasms,’ she said, her cheeks flaming but her gaze unflinching. ‘If that’s what you’re asking.’

He cleared his throat, the husky confession doing things to his self-control he didn’t need.

‘Actually, it’s not.’ He cradled her cheek, slid his thumb over the abraded skin he’d kissed too enthusiastically. ‘The baby?’ he managed. ‘Will it be okay? I didn’t mean to be so rough.’

She shifted away from him. And he was forced to release her.

He needed to get a grip and ignore the scent of sex filling the tiny kitchenette—not to mention the remnants of that mind-blowing orgasm still echoing in his groin—which were doing weird things to his libido.

‘The baby’s fine, Mason. You weren’t that rough. I enjoyed it. I guess there was still some pent-up...stuff between us. But I...’ She ran her hand down her face, clearly flustered. Why did he find that arousing too? ‘I definitely don’t think we should do it again,’ she added. ‘Because that will just complicate things.’

Everything inside him rejected the statement.

‘Beatrice, they’re already complicated,’ he said, because there wasn’t much point in avoiding the obvious. ‘You’re going to have a baby, which means you can’t stay here doing this job. You do realise that?’ he added, because he might as well get it out there. He had planned to be subtle, coaxing, persuasive, but he’d already torpedoed that approach.

He’d seen the way she’d beamed with pride when she’d walked into this broken-down trailer. And heard the sense of achievement in her voice when she’d talked about her job at the resort. But she needed to see sense now.

‘Not when it’s my child you’re having,’ he added. ‘I won’t allow it.’

He knew he’d made a major tactical error the minute he’d said it when she sucked in a sharp breath. He blamed it on the fact that all his brain cells had just been incinerated.

‘That’s outrageous, Mason,’ she announced, her expression going from flustered to horrified in a heartbeat. ‘You don’t get to decide what I’m allowed to do just because I’m pregnant.’

When it’s my kid, yes, I damn well do.

It was what he wanted to say, but he managed to hold onto the knee-jerk counter-attack as a few of his brain cells worked their way back out of his boxers.

The truth was, he wasn’t entirely sure where the fierce desire to protect her and his child came from. Perhaps it was wrapped up in the shock of finding her pregnant—after having dreamed about it so often. Maybe it was the far too revealing revelations they’d shared at lunch, or the explosion of endorphins which he was still trying to get a handle on... But understanding his fierce need to stake a claim on this woman and ignoring it were not the same thing.

He couldn’t ignore it, not any more. He’d tried for the last five months and all it had done was leave him on edge—which had to explain why he’d gone off like a powder keg as soon as he’d been alone with her in a confined space.

‘That came out wrong,’ he said, trying for conciliatory now his cognitive function wasn’t a total bombsite.

‘Yes, it flipping well did,’ Beatrice concurred, looking appalled.

‘I just meant... I want you to come back to London. With me. I can buy you a place.’ He let his gaze glide over the home she was so proud of, but which would never be good enough—for her or his baby. ‘Which would be much more suitable than this one. And I want you to have the best healthcare.’ Plus, she would finally be where he needed her to be, for his sanity, if nothing else. ‘I screwed up with the condom, so you and the baby are my responsibility.’

‘That’s ridiculous, Mason. No, we’re not,’ she said, but she sounded more exasperated now than appalled—which felt like progress.

He’d made a total balls-up of this conversation in every possible way. But something about her expression made him glad he’d finally broached the subject of her returning to London. He’d never been a sophisticated guy—especially with her—so subtle would always have been a stretch.

‘I chose to have this baby, not you,’ she continued. ‘I had options when the doctor confirmed I was pregnant, but I didn’t take them.’

He sighed, but the tension in his ribs released as it occurred to him he was glad she hadn’t.

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