One Night to Risk It All(16)

“And how it affects your family is what really matters to you?”

“It matters. My mother was the most lovely, gracious woman around. No one ever found fault with her. My father is so...decent and my sister gets hell from the press for no reason other than they wanted a punching bag and they picked her. I can’t make things worse for them.”

“What about you?”

“Fine. Me, too. I don’t want cameras in my face, and lots of questions asked. And...Alex, you’re the father of this baby, whether I like you or not. And I feel like you deserve a chance. Not marriage, mind you, but a chance.”

“So what is it you want?” he asked.

“To know you, would be a good start.”

“I take it you don’t mean in the biblical sense.”

“I already do, and it got me nowhere but pregnant and out of a wedding, so let’s just hope that the other kind of getting to know you goes better.”

“If you expect me to sit around and talk about my feelings, you’re out of luck. If, however you would like to get to know me more closely in the biblical sense...”

“I’m thinking of two words here, Alex, and they are brought to you by the letters F and U.”

“I had the impression you were a docile little thing, based on media reports. And also that you weren’t very smart.”


Heat streaked across her cheekbones. “I suppose you did, but then that’s the way the media likes to show me, I guess.” Partly by her design. “Simple and accommodating.”

“And you aren’t.”

“Not on the inside,” she muttered.

But she’d learned to be. After all the parties had started catching up with her. After Colin and his sleazy seduction that had concluded with her agreeing to some drunken, pornographic photos and a brief video.

One she’d had to confess the existence of to her father. If there was anything more horrifying on the face of the planet she couldn’t think of it. Hard evidence of just how stupid she was being. And as her father had pointed out, she was lucky that the worst of it was the photos. Going off alone, drunk with a man who was essentially a stranger could have ended much worse.

Then there had been the partying, the drugs she’d been experimenting with. The fact that she’d been driving herself home under the influence...

She’d deserved the dressing down her father had given her. The threats of being cut off. And as she’d looked at the pictures of herself with Colin...it had been a full-color exhibit of her bad choices.

The wake-up call she’d badly needed. And after the photos and video had been managed, after Colin had been paid off, her mother had gotten sick. Rachel had thrown herself into caring for her mother, driving her to appointments, keeping her company, helping her plan her parties. Helping host them.

And then on the other side of that, after her mother’s death, had been Ajax.

Her father had expected her to marry him. Of course, her father also hoped she would love Ajax. Either way, she’d known what she was supposed to do.

Ajax treated her like she was fine china he was afraid to break. Unlike Alex, who seemed to think she could withstand all manner of rough treatment. Brute.

She sniffed. Loudly.

“What?” he asked.

“You aren’t very nice to me,” she said, walking ahead of him, following the cart that held their luggage. “Interesting you claim Ajax is such a villain but he treated me like a—”

“Nun.”

“—a princess.”

“You aren’t a damn princess. You’re just a regular woman.”

“Ajax thinks I’m a princess.”

“In about four hours Ajax will think of you as that traitor who left him at the altar.”

She clenched her teeth together tightly. She couldn’t argue with that. And she couldn’t blame all of this on him, not when she absolutely had a stake in the guilt. But she really, really wanted to.

The conversation stopped when they approached a sleek jet parked on the runway. The door opened—a carpeted staircase waited to ease their entrance.

“Swank,” she said, going up the stairs and into the plane, where her tart descriptor was proven to be an understatement.

Everything was beautiful beyond belief, polished and plush, from the cream-colored floor to the soft leather couches.

“There’s champagne chilling,” Alex said, coming in behind her. “Of course, you can’t have any. Bad for the baby.”

“Are you always this insufferable?”

“Are you?”

“No, I never am. I’m actually extremely pleasant, all the time. It’s just that you make me... There really isn’t a word strong enough to express the anger-slash-anxiety I feel when you’re around.”

“Attraction?”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not the word.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am so sure.”

“Then why did you kiss me earlier?”

She sat down on the couch, suddenly feeling taxed. “You also make me crazy. I do stupid things when you’re around.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t. Can you at least get me an orange juice?”