Is it wrong that I’m hoping for a boy? I want him to be a boy so I can look into his eyes every day and see his father smiling back at me.
What kind of a life can I give him now, though? I have nothing to offer him.
Deep breaths, Gwen, deep breaths.
After half an hour of driving aimlessly, I fill up the tank and head to Sasha’s. As I’m taking the turn towards campus, I notice a large black car following me. It’s definitely him. Christ this is becoming irritating.
“What does he want now?” I say out loud and pull over when he flashes his lights twice.
His body moves with ease and grace as he climbs out of his vehicle and strolls towards me. After a few attempts, I finally manage to stand by the door of my own vehicle. I still have to tip my head back to look at him. Much like I did with… no I won’t go there. I focus on the brisk chill in the air instead.
“Problem?” I ask, trying not to sound as exasperated as I feel.
“You shouldn’t be getting in and out of a car that low,” he remarks and already I want to hit him.
“Well it’s not like I have another option is it?”
He frowns. “Follow me. We need to talk.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.” I try to get back in the car, but his hand closes around my arm and effortlessly tugs me away. “What?”
“Please?” He grits out and I can see just that one little word takes a whole lot of effort for him to say.
“Fine,” I relent. It’s not like my day can get any worse. “What’s this about?”
“Follow me and you’ll find out.” He places his hand on my back and the other under my arm to support me as I sit. I’m not sure whether to be irritated that he touched me, or relieved that my arse didn’t hit the car seat as hard as it usually does.
I wait for him to drive ahead before following directly behind him. He leads me quite a distance; I’m lucky I stopped for petrol.
We finally pull into a swanky hotel set on the edge of town, one I’ve never even been inside before. It’s not my thing. I like simple and basic beauty, not elegance and fine china.
After parking beside him, he climbs out and this time helps me up and out of my vehicle. I didn’t realise how hard it was until he started assisting me. He’s right, the car is low.
“Come,” he orders and leads me inside with his hand gripping my arm. I’m nervous as to what he wants. Does he want to help me or is this some kind of ruse? Is it a way for his family to ensure that they get the child I’ll be birthing soon? The thought makes me nauseous.
I almost want to turn around and run.
When we enter, we go straight to the desk. The woman takes a look at me and my stomach before training her eyes on Nathan. There’s no small amount of admiration and lust there, that’s for sure.
Ewww.
“Send up some tea and something to eat that’s safe for pregnant women.”
Seriously? I give him a look, but he ignores it and propels me towards the elevator.
It’s awkward, quiet and uncomfortable as we ascend. I find myself wanting to rock on my heels or whistle just to disturb the silence.
As soon as the doors open he takes my arm again and leads me through the patterned beige hallway. I huff, sick of being led around in silence. Again he ignores me.
Once inside his fabulous room, he takes my coat and hangs it by the door before leading me to a large and expensive looking couch. It’s black, pure black, with silver scatter cushions. It looks amazing. “Sit.”
I guess I’ll sit then.
He doesn’t. He shrugs off his jacket and hangs it by mine, undoes his buttoned shirt sleeves and rolls them up to his elbows. Is he planning on delivering the baby? This thought almost makes me smile. Not quite but nearly.
“Okay.” He rubs his hands together, drawing my attention to the black leather gloves that cover them, and sits on the coffee table only four feet away from me. He’s wearing gloves again. Was he wearing them earlier? I can’t recall. “You have nowhere to live. I have space.”
“Come again?”
“I think it’s appropriate that at this point in time you stay with me. I live only a few hours away in a very nice and quiet village only an hour’s drive from London. Just until you get back on your feet. I think you’ll find my home to be of good taste,” he says calmly and I can’t help but note that he talks weird.
“W… what?”
He sighs. “You do speak English, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Then listen to what I’m saying.”
“I am listening, I just don’t get it.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m missing work to be here right now. I don’t appreciate your blatant lack of respect.”
Scoff. “I don’t know you well enough to respect you and so far you’ve been nothing but rude to me. Not to mention the fact the last time I saw you with Caleb, your fist was connecting with his cheek. Forgive me for not wanting to be all smiles to such an arsehole at such a difficult period of my life.”
His glare is open and cold. “I understand you’re hormonal, but I never want to hear such language. It’s improper for a female to curse.”
“Fuck you,” I murmur, feeling even more irate.
“You’re carrying my brother’s child.” His hands fist between his open knees, his cold brown eyes staring into mine. “I’ll not have his child or should be wife wandering aimlessly around town. Whatever transpired between my brother and I isn’t your concern. Siblings fight. We would have made up eventually. As it is, I don’t have that chance right now so instead I’m going to assist you and your child until I feel you’re established. Are we agreed?”
“I…”
“Good,” he clips, not giving me a chance to protest, and checks his shiny large watch that probably cost more than my car. Caleb’s car. “Rest here. We’ll leave in the morning. Do you have any perishables in your vehicle?”
“No,” I respond to his question, the rest of his words still sinking in. “What do you mean leave? I’m not leaving. Everything I own is here.”
“Which is apparently very little. I’ve spoken to your previous landlord and I’ve settled your debt with them. Your furnishings that are locked away will be moved for you when you have yourself situated in viable accommodation.” He states, glancing at his watch one more time. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
“Yes!” I gasp and clamber to my feet after he stands to leave. “I can’t and I won’t leave here.”
“You’re being difficult.”
I laugh once. “I don’t know you and your brother hated you. Why should I trust you?”
He doesn’t even blink at my words but for some reason I know I’ve struck the wrong chord. “You will leave with me tomorrow. There’s no doubt about that.” He rubs his eyes with his gloved fingers. “I have somewhere I need to be, as enjoyable as this has been. Good night, Guinevere.”
“It’s Gwen.”
He rolls his eyes. “I have your car keys and the staff have specific instructions to call me if you try to leave. Good night.”