The Baby Bonus

“Liz did do it to you. She did it to us both.”

Regan shook her head. “No! She would have told me. I know she would.”

Cole swore, jammed his hands through his hair. “I thought she had told you. But whether you like it or not, I am the father of the baby you’re carrying.”

It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Panic racing through her, she blurted out, “You’re lying. You have to be.”

“Why the devil would I lie? What could I possibly hope to gain?”

“Vengeance,” she replied without hesitation. “You hate me. You told me so the day I ended our marriage.” As long as she lived, she would never forget the bitterness in Cole’s voice when he’d thrown those words at her. Or the way she’d felt—as though he’d run a knife through her heart.

“I was angry at the time.”

“You meant it.” And he had. She had seen it in the way he’d looked at her with such utter contempt. Even now just the memory made her shudder.

“Can you blame me?” he snapped. “Can you? You were pregnant with my child. You had married me, sworn that you loved me, would always love me. But the minute your father showed up and threatened to cut your purse strings, all those pretty vows you took weren’t worth spit. You high-tailed it home with daddy and left me.”

“I told you later why I did it. I tried to explain—”

“You made excuses, princess. That’s all they were. Excuses. The truth is that you liked the sex between us and needed to dress it up as love to justify what we did. But you didn’t love me, and you didn’t trust me to take care of you and our baby.”

“Believe what you want.” Defending herself against his accusations would be pointless. If he hadn’t believed her twelve years ago, he certainly wouldn’t believe her now. Besides, even if she did manage to convince him that he’d been wrong, what good would it do now? They couldn’t go back and undo the past. Whatever love he’d felt for her—if it had indeed been love and not simply a mixture of lust and guilt over taking her innocence—those feelings had died the moment she’d told him she’d lost their baby. Even now, a chill went through her as she recalled Cole asking her if she’d lost his child or gotten rid of it. Shoving the crippling memory from her thoughts, Regan met his wintry gaze.

“I believe what your actions told me. The fact that you chose daddy and his money over me said plenty.”

Not up to arguing with him, Regan shrugged. Feigning a calm she was far from feeling, she shifted her gaze away from those laser-sharp eyes and reached for her now-tepid cup of tea. She took a sip. The brew could have been dishwater for all she knew because her mouth tasted like ashes. “Which brings us back to my point. I bruised that monster-sized pride of yours, and you’ve never forgiven me for it. You swore someday I’d regret making a fool of you. Aunt Liz telling you about the baby and how I got pregnant would make it easy for you to pretend you’re the father and certainly give you an opportunity to settle the score.”

“Is that what you believe? That I’m settling a score?”

“Why should I believe otherwise? Even if Aunt Liz had asked you to be my sperm donor, we both know you would never have agreed. You hate me too much.”

“Evidently not nearly as much as you seem to think,” he said, his voice as tight as his expression. “Because you are pregnant, and it’s my baby you’re carrying.”

Another flutter of panic twisted through her. Regan tightened her fingers around the cup she held. She didn’t want to believe him, didn’t dare believe him. “You’re lying—”

“I’m telling you the truth,” Cole countered, cutting off her denial. His expression thunderous, he moved closer, crowding her until her back nudged the kitchen counter.

She started to move away, but Cole’s arm shot out, blocking her escape. Regan slapped her gaze up to his. And she went still at the cold determination in his eyes.

After a long moment, he said, “Liz told me about your problem a few months ago, and she did ask me to be a sperm donor. Foolishly, I agreed and until a few minutes ago I thought you had, too. But then, I guess I should have known better. Because you would never have wanted a man like me to father your baby, would you, princess?”

She didn’t even bother dignifying his taunt with an answer.

“But the fact is it was my sperm Liz used. Mine. Unfortunately, you’re just going to have to accept the fact that the baby you’re carrying is mine.”

He was telling her the truth. Even if the conviction in his voice hadn’t told her, she could read the truth in his cold, hard eyes.

She was carrying Cole’s baby. Just like the last time. No, not like the last time. This time there was no love, no tenderness.

As the full measure of her predicament hit her, Regan’s hands started to tremble. So did her legs. Suddenly the cheery lemon-and-white kitchen began to spin, and her body began to slide to the floor.

Cole swore. “Regan!”

On some level, Regan was aware of Cole snatching the wobbling cup from her fingers, of his strong arms wrapping around her, of him muttering something about crazy women. The colors in the room collided, turning into a sickly shade of gray. Then, as though in a dream, she felt herself being lifted, her head falling against his sturdy chest where a heart beat strong and fast beneath her fingertips.

And as she sank into the sea of gray that rushed up to swallow her, the last thing Regan remembered was the sound of Cole’s voice whispering, “Come on. Open your eyes for me, princess.”

At the sound of Cole’s voice calling her princess, Regan fought her way back through the gray fog that had engulfed her.

“Come on. That’s a girl. Open your eyes for me.”

Slowly she lifted her heavy eyelids, her lashes fluttered once, twice, and finally Cole’s face came into focus. His expression was grim, Regan noted and she caught a glimmer of alarm in his eyes. When the grip on her fingers tightened painfully, she realized that he was holding her hand.

“That’s it,” Cole murmured. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, and he placed a cool, damp cloth on her forehead. “That’s it. That’s a good girl. Come on back now,” he coaxed.

“W-what happened?”

“You fainted,” he told her, his voice taut, his skin the color of paste.

“Sorry.”

“Dammit, Regan, I don’t want an apology. I…” He whooshed out a breath. “Are you all right?”

Regan blinked, taken aback by the concern in Cole’s tone. Lord, if she didn’t know better, she would actually think Cole cared about her. Just as quick as the thought came, she nipped it. That was one bridge she had no intention of buying. “I’m okay. I just got a little dizzy for a minute.” She started to sit up.

“Stay put,” he ordered, pressing a restraining hand against her shoulders. “There’s an ambulance on the way and Liz is going to meet us at the hospital.”

“What?” Regan slapped his hand away and sat up. Still slightly woozy, it took a moment before she realized that she was on the couch in her office. “You can just cancel that ambulance and tell my aunt not to bother going anywhere. Because I’m not going to the hospital.”

“You’re going.”

“Think again, Thornton. No one tells me what to do—least of all you.” She scooched herself up into a semi-sitting position and dragged in a calming breath. “Listen, I appreciate your concern. But there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m fine.”

“The hell you are!” Hands bunched into fists at his sides, Cole glared down at her. “You call tossing up your cookies and fainting fine?”

“No. I call it being pregnant,” she informed him.

He eyed her warily as though she were some alien creature that he wasn’t quite sure how to handle. Lord, but the man was a mess, Regan realized. He fit every cliché about expectant fathers that she’d ever heard of, from the off-color skin tone and panic-stricken eyes right down to the dark hair that looked as though he’d combed it with a rake. The last time she’d been pregnant, she couldn’t remember him being so shaken. Not that she would have noticed. She’d been far too busy—first trying to convince Cole they should elope and then later trying to placate her father. But the poor guy was definitely shook up now, she thought, an amused smile curving her lips.

“I’m glad you think this is funny,” the object of her musings snapped and rammed a fist through his already mussed hair. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry,” she murmured, but she couldn’t quite make herself feel remorse—not when her heart was still doing extra blips over the fact that Cole was actually worried about her. “I mean it. I really am sorry if I scared you. But please, no ambulance. Honestly, I feel fine now.”

Cole shoved his hands into his pockets and huffed out a deep breath. “For Pete’s sake. You’re pregnant, princess. What if something…is wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” she assured him.

“What about the baby?”