“What’s wrong?” Her hand instinctively tightened on the towel.
“Do you realize that I may have made you pregnant just now?”
“What?” She stumbled back a few steps, bumping into the edge of the sink.
“Are you going to faint?” He pushed forward and set a hard hand at her hip.
She kept one hand clenched in the towel, the other gripped the sink. “But you said—”
“I know.” He gave a slight shrug that only hinted at sheepish because she didn’t see a lot of embarrassment or remorse in him. “It was the last thing I expected and I could be wrong. The way it felt in the pool, though... I can’t explain it, but it was different. I’m pretty sure I came inside you.”
“But...” Maybe she was going to faint because her gaze couldn’t seem to land on a stationary spot in the room and everything seemed to be spinning. “What should I do?”
“Come here.” He nudged even closer and drew her into his lap.
She kind of collapsed, joints not wanting to support her.
He caught her, of course. She’d watched him do pull-ups while strapped into his workout chair, lifting the combined weight with what looked like effortless ease. His upper body was insanely strong, his arms the most secure place she could ever be.
“I feel so stupid,” she mumbled. “The one thing I didn’t want was for you to think I was naive just because I’ve never done this before. Unprotected sex is such a rookie move.”
“Tell me about it. I know better myself.”
She met his gaze hoping for humor, but the austere lines in his face dug into her heart like a shard of broken glass.
“I guess I take one of those morning-after pills?”
He didn’t answer right away and she didn’t look at him. She didn’t realize she was chewing her thumbnail until he took her hand and eased it into her lap.
“It’s possible nothing will happen. Paraplegic men have all sorts of fertility issues. Low counts...”
“Do you?”
“I have no idea what my count is. I’ve never been tested for it. Having children was always something I shelved in the back of my mental cupboard. I didn’t imagine I could reach it without medical intervention.” His thumb was wearing a restless circle into the back of her hand. “Obviously, it’s your body, your choice, but I would like to wait and see what happens.”
“What?” If he hadn’t been holding her so firmly in his lap, she would have tumbled out and onto the floor in a splat of shock.
“I’m asking you not to take any pills. The chance you’ll conceive is really low, but...” Huskiness crept into his tone. “I’d like to take that chance.”
“Just...wait?” She couldn’t make sense of any of it. That this was a thing that could happen, that he wanted her to let it happen. “But you’re leaving,” she reminded him, as if she needed him around to “wait and see.” His part in such things was over.
“Well, you’ll have to come to Europe with me,” he stated as though that was obvious.
“I can’t go to Europe with you!” Now she did find her legs and stood on both of them.
She realized he was still naked in his chair and entirely too confident and powerful in his natural state. He sent a circumspect look up at her.
“Why not? If it’s a passport issue, I have people who can sort that very quickly.”
“My passport is fine.” She was pathological about keeping both of hers current. “But I have a job. Bills.”
“It’s catering.” He dismissed it with a flick of his fingers. “They’ll give your shifts to the next person on the list.”
“And skip me in future because I’m unreliable. They’ll fire me outright if they find out I’m seeing you. We’re not supposed to fraternize with guests.”
“That’s not even an argument.” He went through to the adjacent closet and found a pair of blue boxers, staying where he could see her as he pulled them on. “Catering is hardly a career you love or planned to do forever.”
“I still need it. I have a flat to pay for.”
“Lease it.”
“Oh, just like that,” she scoffed. “I’m not going to hand my keys to the first stranger who answers an ad. It takes time to find someone suitable.”
“It takes a phone call to my property agent. She’ll have someone with impeccable references in it tomorrow. And before you bring up your blogging or tutoring work, you’ve done both from this apartment. You can do them from anywhere with a Wi-Fi connection.”
“Wow. Must be nice to solve all your problems with your bank account.”
“It is,” he assured her as she came into the closet, where he had pulled on a shirt and was working on his pants.
She found her own underwear in the drawer his housekeeper had allotted her. “Well, excuse me for pointing out the obvious, but my blog and tutoring income won’t cover first-class airfare, let alone support me at your standard of living.” The monthly cost of heating his rooftop pool was probably more than her mortgage payment. “I can’t afford the type of hotels you stay in, either. Don’t say you’ll pay my way,” she warned with a pointed finger.
“I travel by private jet,” he said pithily. “One more body on board is a name on a manifest, no extra expense. Same goes for the hotels. Much of my stay will be in properties I own. I prefer spaces equipped to suit my needs. Feel free to cook if you’re worried about the cost of food. I’m not.”
She stood there feeling impotent, damp hair causing runnels of water to tickle irritatingly down her back. “I can’t just—”
“Why not?” he cut in with a lift of his arrogant brows.
“Frankly?” She gave her wet hair a flick. “After spending most of my life following a man around the world, I’m not that keen to do it again.”
She stepped into a pair of jeans and a light pullover, then looked for her empty suitcase to pack it.
“I’ve reached the part in your book where your father had the stroke,” he said quietly. “It’s difficult to read. Your writing is beautiful. Poignant. But it put a knife in my stomach that is twisted by every word. I had to stop.”
She dropped her hands to her sides. He was the most disarming man!
“Thank you?” she mumbled, eyes burning white-hot.
“I keep thinking about that tour you’re expected to do. I don’t want to see your heartache exploited for book sales. Are you sure you want that?”