Realizing she was in love with a man softened a woman. Made her weak.
“Good. Then I’ll talk to Natches tonight. We can get married in the morning after securing the license at the courthouse.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at her coolly. None of his emotions showed; she had no idea, one way or the other, what he even thought about a child.
Janey looked at the cup of coffee, wondering for one insane moment if it had been drugged. Or if Alex had just lost his ever-lovin’ mind.
“No,” she finally said carefully. “We’re not getting married.”
This was happening too fast. Too many emotions were crowding inside her now, racing through her brain, making it impossible to make sense of everything.
For one moment, wild, impossible joy had filled her. Alex wanted to marry her? She could keep him, hold him close to her. For how long? Until he realized the cost of marrying her? A woman everyone in the county wanted to convict as a traitor? How long would it take him to hate her?
“Janey.” He came out of his seat, his finger pressing into the top of the table, so commanding, so dominating. It was equally sexy and irritating. “I won’t allow my baby to be raised without me. Period.
You don’t want to test me on this.”
“Until we know whether or not there’s a child, the point is moot.” She had to force the words past her lips. “Until then . . .”
“Until then, I’ll be f**king the hell out of you daily,” he growled, moving around the table to jerk her into his arms. “And I think I’m addicted to the feel of your pu**y bare, Janey. There won’t be any more condoms. How long do you think it will take you to get pregnant if you’re not already?”
“I think you’re crazy,” she gasped. “Listen to yourself, Alex. This won’t work. You know it won’t work.”
“Why?” He pushed her against the wall, not ungently actually, the move too damned sexy. It made her wet. Made her want to weaken, to surrender to him then and there. “Tell me why it won’t work, Janey.”
“Do you love me, Alex?”
Janey already knew the answer. She knew, but it still tore a hole in her heart to see the answer in his face.
“Don’t believe in fairy tales, sweetheart.” He sighed, touching her cheek with his fingertips. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.”
How young she was? As though age had anything to do with love. Since when?
Janey jerked away from him, barely restraining the urge to throw something at him. Glaring at him instead, raging inside, she faced him, her fists clenching at her side.
“Well then, remember,” she said scathingly. She wasn’t going to bother to even try to hide the anger.
Screw it. She’d been in Somerset six months, and hiding beneath that damned mask of unconcern wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all Alex. “Remember how young I am, Alex,” she told him, mocking anger twisting her lips. “Because I won’t marry a man who doesn’t love me. Screw it. You and this damned
town. I deserve better than a man who thinks loving a woman is a fairy tale or a town that thinks I’m such a tramp I’d sleep with that disgusting excuse for a father that I had. You know what? You can all go to hell.”
His arms went over his chest as he stared back at her silently, coolly. She recognized that posture. Did he really think that flashing those impressive biceps of his was going to change her mind?
From the corner of her eyes she caught a glimpse of that bite on his neck, and the shiver that rushed through her, barely hidden, almost weakened her knees. She had one on her neck as well. Her shoulder, across the tops of her br**sts. Her stomach.
Her breathing became shallow. Okay. They’d snacked on each other like ravening beasts the night before and broken a rubber. She could deal. That didn’t mean she was going to marry a man who didn’t love her.
“You know it’s not going to be that simple.” He finally spoke, and when he did she wished he had just kept his damned mouth shut. His tone was implacable, his expression determined.
“Yes, it is going to be that simple,” she informed him. “Starting today, Alex, my life is going to simplified exponentially. Number one”—she held up one finger—“I’m no longer pretending to be some damned robot that doesn’t mind the little strikes and barbs that come my way. Number two”—she held up the second finger—“I’m not going let you or anyone else dictate to me how I walk, talk, dress, or act. And number three”—before she knew it, she had her finger buried in his chest and her voice had risen—“I will not marry any man who doesn’t love me.” The finger came back to her, to her chest, and determination struck a hard, fierce blow there. “I’m not unworthy of love, no matter my age or who the hell my biological parents are. So stuff that along with your arrogance and go straight to hell.”
She turned on her heel and stomped to her bedroom. She had work to do. She’d wasted too much time in the past months letting people, people she didn’t know and who didn’t matter to her damned life, affect her. She loved Somerset, but she could leave. She could go anywhere she wanted to go now, and there was nothing and no one to stop her.
Except herself.
She slammed the door shut, locked it, then leaned against it and slowly placed her hands over her stomach as her eyes closed.
She could be pregnant. That changed her plans. Until she knew for certain, Alex was right—she couldn’t leave. But if she was pregnant, there was no way she could stay either. She wouldn’t let her child be subjected to the prejudice and cruelty this county was heaping on her. Especially Alex’s baby.
Alex was considered one of Somerset’s favorite sons. A Special Forces soldier who had survived untold wars. He returned home wounded, healed, and went out to fight again. He was a hometown hero, sleeping with a traitor’s daughter.
Funny, how those same people saw Natches as a hero as well. Well, not funny perhaps. They had stood aside all those years that they knew Natches was getting the hell beat out of him at home. When Dayle had disowned him, many had turned their backs on him as well, until Dayle’s arrest. Now he was a hometown hero, too, and they’d found someone new to punish.
She pushed her fingers through her hair and fought back the anger rushing through her. Anger wasn’t going to help her. Pride, determination—screw all of them.