Ruined (Barnes Brothers #4)(61)

Moving closer, she took away that impression of intimacy. There was no denying it now. She was standing all but in his arms. He slid one hand up, gripped the damp weight of her hair and tugged. She arched her neck back, staring at him, breath catching as she waited.

But he didn’t kiss her.

She was desperate to feel his mouth on hers. All day, they’d worked on a handful of scenes, his character barreling in, then all but undressing her. When she resisted him, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. In the car, he’d put her down and touched her cheek. “Stop screaming. I know you’re scared, but you have to listen to me. I’m not here to hurt you. I could never hurt you . . .”

There was a deep intimate connection between their characters and the scenes they’d filmed today had only added to the tension from earlier.

She needed him to kiss her.

But Sebastien just studied her eyes for a minute before letting his gaze slide down to her lips. Then he let go of her hair and stepped back.

Damn.

***

Sebastien thought about taking her to his place.

He wanted the privacy it offered, but at the same time, he didn’t know if it was the right thing to do. They had talking to do and it seemed it would be better to do it on neutral ground, but where in the hell was that?

In the end, he figured her hotel was closer to neutral ground than anything else. She was no more at home there than he was in any old hotel and he already knew he’d done something pretty awful. Otherwise she wouldn’t have shut him down and shut him out so thoroughly. Giving her whatever comfort she felt in her own space was the least he could do.

But they were definitely going to finish this.

Marin was getting more nervous by the second. He could see it in the way she held herself as they rode up the elevator, her shoulders rigid, her stare taking on that aloof quality she presented when dealing with reporters and others she wasn’t really happy about dealing with.

He wasn’t going to take offense, he told himself.

She was on edge and stressed and . . . pregnant.

Pregnant—and it was his baby.

Marin was carrying his baby.

It hit him then in a way it hadn’t all day. He’d deliberately blocked it out of his head, because he hadn’t had much choice. He had to do his job, right? But now . . . the elevator doors slid open on a soft chime just as he staggered, his back slamming into the wall. Marin turned to look at him, her eyes widening a little. “You’re pregnant.”

“Ah . . . yes. You’ve known this.” She placed a hand on the doors as they started to close. “Come on, Sebastien.”

“You’re pregnant. It’s mine. She’s mine—he’s mine. Whatever. You’re pregnant.”

Marin gave him a smile, wobbly at first but it settled into place. “I know.” The elevator made a buzzing sound and she gave him an exasperated look. “I don’t think the elevator likes this much. Can we get off?”

“Fuck the elevator,” he muttered. But he managed to shove himself forward and momentum got him the rest of the way. Once he was off the elevator, he reached up and touched Marin’s cheek. “Are you . . . are you happy about this? The baby, I mean?”

The smile that settled on her face this time was the most beautiful, most amazing smile he’d ever seen. “I don’t think happy touches what I’m feeling, Sebastien.” She covered his hand with hers, then lowered it, closing her fingers around his as she started to walk, all but leading him to her room. “Come on, Seb. The hallway isn’t the place for this.”

Sebastien thought about telling her he didn’t care where they were, but then he decided maybe he did.

Because now that the impact of everything had really hit him, he had . . . questions. Questions that didn’t relate at all to why she hadn’t been there with him in the morning or what had happened or why it had taken so long for her to tell him. He wanted to know more about this . . . the baby. Her. How she felt. Did she feel anything . . .

He realized he was getting to the point of sounding stupid, and he didn’t even care.

Hell, he couldn’t even sound stupid yet because he hadn’t voiced the questions, but that didn’t matter. He’d be stupid for Marin Lassiter. He’d been that way his whole life anyway. Why change now?

Mind racing at a hundred miles an hour, he followed her into her room and stood there as she dropped her purse and turned to look at him. Arms folded across her chest, she stared at him and it hit him that he’d never seen her look vulnerable.

It made him want to pull her against him and protect her from the whole damn world.

It also made any lingering anger he felt drain away.

He’d been stupid drunk. She’d been there for him—again.

And things had . . . happened.

Now they were going to have a baby. Maybe if he was lucky she even felt something for him.

He took a step toward her.

Marin lifted her chin.

It made him smile and that made her narrow her eyes. She had the most stubborn chin. Coming to a stop in front of her, he reached up, fisting his hand around her braid and tugging. When her head went back, he pressed his lips to her chin, then skimmed down lower.

Marin held herself still.

Since she wasn’t arguing, he decided to move lower still.

She’d pulled on an oversized men’s dress shirt over a tank top and he curled an arm around her waist, steadying her as he went lower, his lips tracing the lacy edge of the tank.