The Tender Trap. BEVERLY BARTON
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my baby, too.” He looked directly at Blythe’s flat stomach, his fingers itching to reach out and touch her, to lay a protective hand over his child.
“You want to be involved?” She stared at him, not sure she had heard him correctly.
“Damn right, I do.”
“How is that possible, Adam? I don’t think there’s any way you and I can share a child.”
“Well, we’d better figure out a way, hadn’t we?”
She gasped when he laid his hand across her stomach. The touch was so innocent and yet at the same time so compellingly intimate.
His child. He’d given this woman his baby—and she wanted it. He smiled, thinking about Blythe referring to their baby as her. A daughter. His daughter. He liked the sound of that. His daughter.
“In what... seven months... our child will be a reality? I don’t think we should waste time on a big, fancy affair, do you? Something simple, but elegant. Craig can stand up for me and Joy can be your matron of honor.”
What? Surely she had misunderstood what he’d said. It sounded as if he were planning a wedding. “Do you expect me to marry you?”
“Of course I do. Our child isn’t going to come into this world a bastard, her mother and father unmarried.”
“But—but we can’t get married.”
“Why not?”
“We don’t love each other. We don’t even like each other very much.” Blythe eased away from Adam’s possessive hand, removing her body from his reach. “Until the night we... er...made love, we couldn’t be in the same room together without getting into an argument.”
“We don’t argue when we’re in bed together. All we do is—”
“Don’t say it! I know what happened that night. We both went crazy, but I’m not crazy now, and I know I can’t marry you. It would be wrong.”
“It would be wrong not to marry. Can’t you see? Even if you and I aren’t in love, even if we have our differences, we owe it to our child to get married. And we owe it to ourselves. After all, Decatur is a pretty old-fashioned Southern town, you know, and we both have reputations to uphold. Hell, you coach a girls’ softball team, don’t you? And I’m on the board of education.”
“I don’t like your type of man, Adam. Even if we both lose our reputations, it would be better than trying to live together. We’d wind up killing each other.”
“You didn’t dislike me the night you conceived my child. You gave a good impression of a woman who liked everything about me.” Adam laughed when he heard her gasp.
“That’s typical of your type, reminding me of what a fool I was. I was very emotional that evening. I’d just become a godmother. Joy named her baby after me, and I was all emotional and everything. Then the thunderstorm blew up... and... and I...I—”
“Acted like a woman. A real woman. Soft and vulnerable and loving.”
“I made the mistake of falling right into your big, strong arms. You were...were...irresistible, and for the first time, I gave in to my desires. And just look what happened!” Determined not to cry, Blythe clamped her teeth tightly together.
Adam reached out for her; she backed farther away from him. “You want me to take the blame?” he asked. “You want me to say it was my fault? All right, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have made love to you. I knew how emotional you were, how vulnerable. But dammit, Blythe, I didn’t know you’d never been with a man. I thought you’d had sex with all those idiots you dated.”
“Well, I hadn’t. And why I couldn’t resist you, I’ll never know.”
Adam grinned. “You couldn’t resist me, huh?”
She flung her purse at him. It bounced off his chest and hit the floor. Oh, damn! Why had she just admitted that she hadn’t been able to resist him that night? She was such a fool. “Ooo...hhh!”
“We should have an exciting marriage.” Reaching down, Adam picked up her purse and held it out to her. “We can fight all day and make love all night.”
Blythe grabbed her purse. “I am not going to marry you.”
“If you think I’m suggesting a love match, then stop worrying.” Adam realized he’d have to play things just right or Blythe would walk out of his office and out of his life, taking his child with her.
Blythe held her purse against her chest, her arms crisscrossed at her waist. “What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting that we get married to give our baby legitimacy, to give her two parents, and to maintain our good reputations. We both have a lot to lose as unwed parents.” He watched Blythe as she considered what he’d said. She was weakening just a little. All he had to do was continue persuading her. “When we get married, we can have separate bedrooms, if that’s what you want.”
“What kind of marriage would that be?”
“A marriage in name only. For the sake of the baby. After she... or he...is born, we can get an amicable divorce and share joint custody of our child. That shouldn’t be any problem.”
“No, that shouldn’t be any problem,” she mumbled. “Would everybody know... I mean would we have to tell people that...”
“Nobody needs to know anything about our personal business. If you want to tell Joy, it would be all right with me.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t come here expecting you to propose marriage.” Liar! her conscience screamed at her. Deep down, in your heart of hearts, you came here to Adam hoping he’d find a way to make everything all right. First you break your own cardinal rule about not having sex, then you get yourself pregnant, and now you’re considering marrying the big jerk.
“Think about it. Talk to Joy.” Adam glanced down at his watch. “It’s ten-thirty. Take all day. I’ll pick you up for dinner tonight and we’ll discuss the situation and make plans.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt just to discuss the situation. Okay, pick me up around seven.” After all, what harm would it do just to consider his proposal?
Blythe walked away from him. Adam ran after her, halting her just as she opened the door. “Who’s your doctor?”
“Dr. Meyers. Why do you ask?”
“Thought I’d give him a call and—”
“And see if I’m really pregnant?” She raised her hand against him, wanting nothing more than to slap his face. How dare he think she would humiliate herself this way if she wasn’t really pregnant.
Adam grabbed her arm in midair. “To find out what I can do to make this pregnancy easier for you.”
“Oh.” Blythe jerked her arm away from Adam. “Dr. Meyers, in Decatur. I go back for a checkup in a month.”
Adam clasped her chin in his hand. “I’ll see you tonight. Until then, take care of yourself and my little girl.” He brushed a kiss across her lips.
She stared at him, not returning the kiss, but not fighting the sweet intimacy either. “Tonight,” she murmured.
Adam watched Blythe exit the outer office where his secretary sat, staring back and forth from Blythe to him.
“I’m getting married, Sandra. That little redheaded spitfire is my future wife.”
“Congratulations, sir. I had no idea you were seriously involved with anyone.”
“Oh, I’m as seriously involved with Blythe Elliott as a man can be.”
“He asked you to marry him!” Kneeling on the floor in front of her daughter’s musical swing,