Baby for the Billionaire(127)

“Oh, no, I couldn’t live here.” The comforting sense of relief had vanished. There were far too many memories of Suzy and Michael. In every piece of painted wood, every flower. It would kill her to have to live here. “Don’t ask me to do that.”

“I’m not asking you to—I’ll move in. Can’t you see?” He was looking at her as if he expected her to applaud his perspicacity. “You were right, Victoria. And this way I won’t be displacing the baby. He’ll be in familiar surroundings.”

Her own arguments had caused him to come to this conclusion? Her heart started to thud in fear. She was going to lose Dylan after all. “You can’t do this!”

He thrust his hand into his pants pocket and brought out a bunch of keys. “Why not?”

Because Dylan is mine, she thought. But she couldn’t tell him that. She’d promised Suzy she wouldn’t reveal her part in Dylan’s birth.

Oh, dear God.

She tried to get her thoughts straight. Surely Suzy’s death released her from that promise.

Or did it?

She rubbed her fingertips against the sides of her nose. Finally she said thinly, “It’s macabre that you’re thinking of moving into their home when we only buried them today.” Her head started to ache. “Tell me you don’t mean this?”

But Connor was already striding up the path that wound to the wooden front door, keys jangling between his fingers, the handle of the infant seat hooked over his arm.

A splatter of moisture landed on her arm. Victoria glanced up, startled at how dark the sky had grown. She hurried after Connor and grabbed his arm.

He swung around. “Careful, you’ll awaken—”

“I’m not going in there. I’m not.” Barely conscious of the wetness on her cheeks, Victoria tipped her head back and glared at him defiantly.

Connor grew still. His free hand came up and touched her cheek with gentle fingers. “You’re crying.”

She ducked her head sideways, dislodging his touch. “I’m not crying. It’s the rain.” It seemed important to convince him of that. To reveal no weakness. Victoria pointed to the sky. “Look how low the clouds are.”

But his gaze didn’t waver from her face, and his eyes softened to the color of mist. “Okay, it’s the rain.”

“It’s going to get worse.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “We can’t stay out here. Dylan will get drenched.” Hunching her shoulders, she threw a haunted glance toward the cottage.

“I’ll take the two of you home.” Connor put an arm around her shoulder and turned her toward the gate, the infant seat swinging gently from his other hand.

The warmth of his body against hers flooded Victoria with a rush of emotion. She blinked frantically as he held the garden gate open for her, determined not to cry any more. This was Connor, why was he being so darned gentle? It made her want to cry all the more.

The rain began to fall in stinging drops. Connor dropped his arm from her shoulders and hurried to get Dylan into the back of the Maserati.

Victoria stood on the sidewalk, unmindful as the drops turned to sheets of water. She’d won. She could hardly believe it. He wasn’t going to force her—or Dylan—to go into the cottage. Conner was taking them both home.

So why didn’t she feel a thrill of victory? Why did she feel so terribly lost?

“You need to get out of that wet dress.”

Connor jerked his gaze away from the sodden material that clung to Victoria’s skin, blatantly revealing the gentle curves and the tight tips of her breasts as she shivered.

“But Dylan—”

“Is perfectly dry. I got him into the car before the heavens opened.” Connor’s attention fell onto the baby still sleeping in his infant seat.

“He’s exhausted.”

He knew without looking that she’d followed his gaze. Victoria must be exhausted, too. After all, she’d been holding the baby for most of the day. But if he said anything more, she’d only deny it. So Connor settled himself down onto a couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “Why don’t you go have a hot shower. I’ll watch the baby for a while.”

Edging forward, she said, “Why don’t you make yourself at home?”

“Not now, Victoria.” Weariness crept into his voice. He’d had enough of all the sniping between them.

She stared at him for a long moment, then bowed her head. “I’m sorry.”