The Tender Trap

“I want you to know that I don’t hold you responsible.” Blythe lowered her eyes, not able to continue looking directly at Adam. “It was my fault. I should have known better.” She stood up. Her purse fell to the floor. “I did know better, but I’d never felt anything so powerful before. I just didn’t know how to handle wanting someone so much.”

Adam shoved back his chair and stood. “Why should we rehash that night now, after two months, when you’ve refused to see me or speak to me before today?”

Bending over, she picked up her bag and flung it in the chair she’d just vacated, then turned to face him. He seemed so distant, so in control, so much the Adam Wyatt she’d known and avoided for two years. “I’m not here to discuss what happened a couple of months ago. Well, in a way, I am. That is to say, the reason I’m here is to tell you that, well, after we... after we—”

“Made love,” Adam said.

“Yes, after we made love, I knew you would regret it as much as I did, and I realized that you’d feel responsible, even guilty because I’d been a... well, I’d been—”

“The word is virgin, babe. You were a virgin.”

“Yes, well, I felt there was no point in our blaming ourselves for something that wasn’t your fault or mine. It just happened.”

“It happened three times.” The statement was out of his mouth before he could stop himself from speaking. Damn! What was the point of reminding her? Of reminding himself?

Blythe covered her face with her hands. Blowing out a loud breath, she closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. “This isn’t easy for me. Okay? It’s taken all the courage I could muster to come here today to tell you.”

“To tell me what?” he asked. “That you don’t blame me for our night of passion two months ago?”

“No, I don’t blame you. I blame myself.” Blythe balled her hands into fists at her sides. “I don’t expect you to do anything. And I’m not asking for anything. I just thought you had a right to know.”

Adam glared at her, not quite sure what the hell she was talking about, but getting a sinking feeling in his stomach. “You thought I had a right to know what?”

“I’m pregnant!” There, she’d said it. The worst was over. Or so she thought.

“You’re what?”

Adam rounded his desk so quickly that Blythe didn’t have a chance to get away from him before he grabbed her by the shoulders, his fierce grip jerking her forward. He stared at her. Her eyes opened wide as she bit down on her bottom lip.

“You’re what?” he repeated.

“I’m pregnant.”

She was pregnant! No, it wasn’t possible. Who was he kidding? Of course it was possible.

He ran his hands down her arms, clasping her wrists with his fingers. “I’m sorry, Blythe. I never meant for this to happen.”

She shrugged, tilting her head to one side, a tentative smile quivering on her lips. “I know. I told you that I don’t blame you.”

“You should!” Releasing his hold on her, he turned away, slamming his big fists down on top of his desk. “In all the years since my divorce, I’ve never made love to a woman without using protection. Not once. Not until that night. With you. The first time.”

“I didn’t use anything, either,” Blythe said, wanting to touch Adam’s back, waiting to reach out and place her hand on his massive shoulders. “I mean, I wasn’t on the Pill or anything.”

Lifting his clenched fists, he turned and braced his hip on the edge of the desk. “Well, we can’t go back and change what happened. God knows I would if I could. We’ve got to deal with the consequences, to make decisions about how we’re going to handle this situation.”

Blythe didn’t know what she had expected him to say when she told him. Deny that he was the father? Tell her it was her problem? Or had she secretly hoped he’d be happy, that he’d lift her in his arms, kiss her and tell her he loved her and wanted their child?

But Adam didn’t love her any more than she loved him. If he could go back and change what had happened, he would. He’d just said so himself. And if she could go back to that night, what would she do? Unconsciously, she slid her hand down the front of her skirt, her open palm crovering her stomach.

“I suppose you’ve considered all the options,” Adam said. Dear God, what would he do if she said she planned to have an abortion? He’d tell her she couldn’t, that he didn’t want her to destroy the child they had created together.

“Yes, I discussed options with my doctor and with Joy.”

“You told Joy? She and Craig know?”

“I told Joy yesterday. She’s the one who convinced me to come here today and tell you. She promised not to say anything to Craig until after I’d talked to you.”

“Have you made a decision?” He knew he had already made a decision about the baby. It didn’t require any lengthy soul-searching. He’d gotten Blythe pregnant. She was carrying his child. He’d marry her. That was the only honorable thing to do.

“I decided against having an abortion.”

Relief spread through Adam. His tight muscles relaxed. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to do that.”

Closing her eyes, Blythe said a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn’t expected her to dispose of their mistake.

“My doctor and I discussed the possibility of giving the baby up for adoption.” Dr. Meyers had tried to discuss adoption with her, but she’d adamantly refused. She had no intention of giving away her child.

Would she give his child to perfect strangers? Dammit, he wouldn’t let her! If Adam had to, he’d do as his father had done and raise the child by himself. “Adoption? Don’t even consider giving away my child.”

“I didn’t consider it. Not really. I’m going to have my baby and I’m going to keep her.” Blythe had decided that the baby was a girl. She couldn’t imagine herself raising a boy—some rough and rowdy little black-eyed boy who’d grow up to look just like Adam.

Adam let out the breath he’d been holding. “You’re going to keep the baby?”

“I came here to tell you because Joy pointed out the fact that, as the father, you did have a right to know.” Glancing away from Adam, Blythe reached into the chair and picked up her purse. “I don’t expect you to get involved. I’m not here asking for any kind of support.”

“Just what are you trying to say?” Standing, he grabbed her by the arm as she turned from him. “You waltz in here and tell me that you’re going to have my child, but you don’t expect me to get involved. Well, babe, you’d better think again. That’s my baby, too.” He looked directly at Blythe’s flat stomach, his fingers itching to reach out and touch her, to lay a protective hand over his child.

“You want to be involved?” She stared at him, not sure she had heard him correctly.

“Damn right, I do.”

“How is that possible, Adam? I don’t think there’s any way you and I can share a child.”

“Well, we’d better figure out a way, hadn’t we?”

She gasped when he laid his hand across her stomach. The touch was so innocent and yet at the same time so compellingly intimate.

His child. He’d given this woman his baby—and she wanted it. He smiled, thinking about Blythe referring to their baby as her. A daughter. His daughter. He liked the sound of that. His daughter.

“In what... seven months... our child will be a reality? I don’t think we should waste time on a big, fancy affair, do you? Something simple, but elegant. Craig can stand up for me and Joy can be your matron of honor.”

What? Surely she had misunderstood what he’d said. It sounded as if he were planning a wedding. “Do you expect me to marry you?”

“Of course I do. Our child isn’t going to come into this world a bastard, her mother and father unmarried.”

“But—but we can’t get married.”

“Why not?”