Falling for the Pregnant Heiress Page 13

“You really look pretty tonight.”

  * * *

  The compliment went straight to Sabrina’s heart. Her face flushed, but before she had to fumble with a reply, Trent reached for her plate and poured a ladleful of goulash onto it.

  It looked a little crazy, a little sloppy, not quite soup, but not quite solid, either, but it smelled delicious.

  He filled his own plate then motioned for her to take a bite.

  Trying not to be too obvious about her slight fear of Spam, she cautiously filled her spoon with pasta, vegetables and Spam and slid it into her mouth.

  Flavor exploded on her tongue. The odd mix of vegetables and pasta and Spam bathed her taste buds. “Wow.”

  “Wow good or wow bad?”

  “Good! It’s delicious. It reminds me a bit of jambalaya.”

  “You’ve been to the South.”

  “My mother was a belle.”

  He thought about that, thought about dignified but generous Maureen, who hosted balls, gave away millions of dollars and loved Seth so fiercely Trent had been envious. “I can see it.”

  “It’s why she fit so well into New York high society. Might have been slightly different rules, but it was the same game.”

  “My mother was a schoolteacher.”

  Her gaze jumped to his. “No kidding!”

  “My dad—stepdad—was a dock worker. They could stretch a nickel better than anyone I’ve ever met.” He smiled at the memories. “I learned to manage money from them.”

  Sabrina studied him. He’d learned how to manage money from his parents, obviously loved them from the look of affection that came to his face. Yet, he’d never clicked with his stepdad.

  “It’s why I know how to cook things like goulash.”

  A million questions assaulted her. She sorted through them before she carefully said, “Your family sounds nice.” Not a question, more like an opening for him to talk.

  “They are very nice. But they are solidly blue collar. Even the notion of expanding beyond their borough is uncomfortable for them. They like their block parties. They’re active in their community. But that’s kind of the point. They know who they are, like who they are.”

  “And you wanted more?”

  “I wanted an education.” He shrugged. “I didn’t necessarily want to leave that life. I could live anywhere. I don’t have a maid, just a cleaning service that comes in. I could keep my fancy cars in storage. No one has to know how much money I have.” He laughed. “I could be the billionaire next door. But the truth is my family didn’t want me around.”

  “That part sounds awful.”

  “It isn’t when you realize that I hadn’t fit for a while. I wasn’t surprised when my stepdad turned down the house I’d bought for him and my mom.” He paused, took a breath, then caught her gaze. “It made it official that I was out of sync with them.”

  “You make it sound so sterile. But I know it had to hurt.”

  “It did. Sometimes it still does. But everybody’s supposed to grow up, to move on. I’m just the guy whose parents don’t want him to come home for holidays.”

  Silence reigned as they ate a bite or two of goulash, took a sip or two of sparkling apple juice, then he laughed. “I’m making it sound horrible and it isn’t. When I woke up the day after my stepdad turned down the house, I realized I could be whoever I wanted, do whatever I wanted.”

  She set down her spoon. “Make your own rules?”

  “Why not? The old ones didn’t work for me.”

  She sniffed. “The old ones don’t really work for me, either.”

  “Then maybe you’d like to join me in the land where I decide what’s good and bad, what’s fun and what’s not, and where I choose what I want to do and with whom.”

  “Not till after I hear some of the rules.”

  “Well, for one, you always have to be yourself...your real self.”

  She snorted. “I’ve been my mother’s perfect daughter for so long I’m not really sure I know my real self.”

  “Maybe this is your real self.”

  She shook her head. “No. When I bought this gown, I tried on a red one I liked more.”

  “Really? Prettier than that?” He chuckled before he took a drink. “Because you look amazing in that one.”

  She took a sip of apple juice, letting his compliment sink into her soul. “The other was more beautiful. Red, with no back.”

  His brow wrinkled. “No back?”

  “It was fantastic. It fit me the way the blue sparkly one your shopper picked out fit. But it had long sleeves and a dramatic dip in the back that stopped at the very top of my butt. It was artistic and passionate and when I put it on...” She glanced down at her plate, then back up at him. “I felt it. That indefinable thing that clicks in your soul.”

  Confusion filled his dark eyes. “So why didn’t you get it?”

  “Because I have blond hair and blue eyes and wearing the color blue makes me into this physically perfect picture.”

  He only stared at her.

  “Blondes wear blue. We look good in blue.”

  “It sounds like you have a snapshot in your head that you keep recreating.”

  Her eyes widened. “That’s it exactly.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “When it comes to people, I know my stuff. I might have missed that my stepfather would eventually nudge me out of my own family, but I hadn’t missed that he’d always been standoffish with me. And being attuned to that made me attuned to people in a different way, and that translated to picking up on things that make me a good investor. I can see when a CEO’s bumpy marriage is going to cause him to lose focus for his company or when a board of directors is getting cocky, taking risks that might devalue their corporation.”

  “Makes sense.” She swirled the liquid in her glass. “When I interview potential clients, I look for rough patches in their personal lives. That doesn’t necessarily count them out. If the client is strong and motivated, I can teach them how to work around personal troubles, so they don’t affect their business.”

  “Another thing we have in common.” He poured more apple juice into both of their glasses. “You should have bought the red dress.”

  She shook her head. “I was very close to it. But I wanted to blend in at Pierre’s showing, not stand out. Trust me, in that red dress I would have stood out.”

  They finished their goulash, polished off the first bottle of sparkling juice and opened a second.

  “We should probably wash these dishes.”

  Trent pushed back his chair. “We’ll get them in the morning. Right now I thought we’d dance.”

  “Dance?”

  He pointed to the great room’s dance floor. “I want the full experience. We can pretend we’re at a ball.”

  He walked to her chair and pulled it out for her.

  “Or we could pretend we’re the lord and lady of the house.”

  “At a ball?”

  “Or alone.” She pictured it. Her laughing Irish couple from the dressing room. The husband and wife who would own a castle like this. “With the kids tucked in bed and the servants in their quarters, they would dance.”

  And probably go upstairs and make love.

  For the first time since Barcelona the idea didn’t scare her. It felt like the perfect ending to a trip that had absolutely changed her.

  * * *

  He studied her as he slid his phone from his jacket pocket. “Why am I getting the feeling that you’ve thought this through?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe I have.”

  He found his playlist, the one filled with slow, romantic songs, then held out his hand to her. He didn’t remind her that she was supposed to be pragmatic, not a dreamer. He liked this side of her, sensed that he was with the real Sabrina, the one who would have bought and worn the happy,
artistic, sexy red dress.

  Music filled the room. He led her to the dance floor and pulled her close. She melted into him and the sense of rightness he’d had at the beginning of the night drifted through him like the simple, easy notes of the song floating around them, creating a little world all their own.

  He let himself soak up the feeling. He had lots of friends and girlfriends and employees who were friends. But he’d never had this closeness, this intimacy, with another person. He’d never wanted it. Never missed it. But holding her now, he knew that when they went back to their separate worlds this dance would haunt him. Make him wish he’d found the courage to let this relationship evolve to its natural conclusion.

  “Do you ever think that some people aren’t meant for forever?”

  He leaned back, looked into her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “My parents soured me on marriage. Pretty soon I’m going to have a child to raise. That’s going to limit everything I do.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

  He thought he did. At least a little. She might be a romantic, but she didn’t think she’d get the happily-ever-after.

  But why mention it now?

  Unless...

  “Are you saying you think we aren’t made for forever?”

  She held his gaze. “You wondered why fate had thrown us together. Well, there’s a part of me that knows. I’ve loved everything about tonight, but more than that, I really like you.”

  “I like you, too.” Her simple declaration sent need rippling through him, and this time he didn’t fight it. He dipped his head, kissed her slowly and thoroughly. “And?”

  Her breath stuttered. “And aren’t you just the tiniest bit curious about how this night should end?”

  “I actually had a plan.”

  “You did?”

  He spun them around once, then kissed her again. He hadn’t taken his plan this far, but now that they were here, on the threshold of something amazing, the plan morphed, taking a wonderful turn. “I’ve decided to seduce you.”

  “Oh.”

  He kissed the lips forming the perfect, “Oh.”

  Drew the kiss out languidly.

  Slowed their dance steps to almost none so he could enjoy her taste, the softening of her body against his, the yearning of his own body for hers.

  When he pulled away she looked sleepy-eyed and happy. “Maybe we should share that room after all.”

  “Maybe we should.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CAUGHT IN THE spell of his dark eyes, Sabrina stood frozen. He broke their dance hold, took her hand and led her to the table where he blew out the candles, then to the door, the stairway and the bedroom. Arousal joined her awareness of how male he was, how lucky she was to have this just one night.

  But everything was so perfect, the strangest feelings flitted through her. Thoughts of forever inched into her conscious, forming the realization that this wasn’t just a man she wanted, this was a man she could trust.

  She shoved those thoughts aside. She didn’t want them intruding on her perfect night when she knew one night might be all they got together.

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him until there was no reality around her but darkness and Trent.

  When they woke together the next morning, he pulled her close and kissed her before he jumped out of bed to go to the room where he’d stored his suitcase to get his toothbrush.

  With morning light streaming in through the open curtains on the big windows, Sabrina knew she must have looked a fright, and while he was gone she ran into the private bath of her room to use her toothbrush and comb out the tangles of her hair.

  But she stopped herself. She didn’t hate her wild hair. She liked it. And, mysteriously, she looked like a woman Trent would date. Except she had a little more meat on her bones.

  She combed her hair enough that it wasn’t a mass of tangles and when he returned to the bedroom, wearing sweatpants but no shirt, she realized that with his now-short hair, he looked like the kind of guy she would date.

  They’d always been these people. Just hidden under tons of misconceptions and a boatload of fears.

  But why pick now to change...unless something about being together brought out the best in them?

  He threw back the covers and patted the bed, indicating she should join him. She did. Willingly. Feeling a billion different things, the most confusing of which was the surety that this...being with him, wild hair, tight dresses, honest conversations...was her future. Her destiny.

  If it hadn’t felt so right, she might have argued with it.

  And maybe she still should be careful, not let the happiness of making love to someone she truly loved cloud the truth. Especially since she’d told him the night before that she believed this was a one-time thing.

  Still naked, she slid into bed and over to him. Something had happened the night before. Something wonderful.

  And she wanted it.

  Maybe she’d even fight for it—something so un-Sabrina-like she should have questioned it. But every time she tried, she would remember the night before and know with certainty she couldn’t go back to being the person she’d been, but more than that she refused to go on without him.

  * * *

  He cuddled her against him and pulled the covers over them. He wasn’t sure what had happened the night before but he wanted it.

  He hadn’t slept with a million women, but he’d slept with enough to know when something was special, perfect. He hoped Sabrina felt that, too, but if she hadn’t, he had to figure out how to get her to see it.

  Of course, he also realized he didn’t have to do that today. Now that they’d found each other, they could date. He couldn’t believe he’d thought that they couldn’t. And he almost couldn’t remember why he’d thought that.

  The music of a mariachi band burst into the room. Leaning across him, Sabrina grabbed her phone from the bedside table and winced. “It’s Jake.”

  “Your brother’s ringtone is a mariachi band?”

  She slid up in bed, dragging the sheet with her. “He likes to dance.” She clicked her phone and said, “Hey, Jake.”

  Her brother’s voice came through the speaker. “Where are you?”

  “I’m in Dublin... Actually, outside Dublin.”

  “Dublin! What are you doing in Ireland? Mom’s worried sick about you and it’s no wonder. You’re not home.”

  Sabrina laughed. “I’ll be home tomorrow. I had something to do.”

  “What?”

  She took a breath, glancing at Trent. He shrugged. Now that Pierre had been told there was no reason for secrecy anymore. He used that shrug to tell her he didn’t see why she couldn’t tell Jake about her baby.

  “I had to tell Pierre that we were pregnant.”

  “What?” Jake’s voice exploded from the phone.

  Trent’s eyebrows rose. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so hasty in encouraging her to tell Jake.

  “Look. It’s all okay. I didn’t want to tell anyone until I’d told Pierre and I told him two nights ago.”

  “That weasel is the father of your child?”

  “He’s the only guy I’ve been dating for the past four years. So, yes. He’s the baby’s father.”

  “Oh, hell.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re not going to do something foolish like get married. I told him that he could have as much or as little involvement with the baby as he wanted. But I also warned him that if he chooses to stay out of our child’s life I’m giving our son or daughter his name when he or she reaches eighteen. What happens after that will be up to him or her.”

  Jake’s voice softened. “You’re really okay?”

  She smiled at Trent. “I’m kind of excited. I’ve always wanted to be a mom. I know I’ll get lots of support from you and Seth and Supe
r Grandma.” She gasped. “Hey, I haven’t told Mom yet so just keep this between us.”

  “You know Avery will sense something and badger it out of me.”

  She laughed. “You can tell Avery. I’ll tell Mom and Seth tomorrow.”

  “I’m glad you told me.”

  “I am, too.” She glanced over at Trent again and she smiled. But he saw more than just her happiness. He’d experienced the closeness of the McCallan kids before, but hearing it firsthand tightened his chest. He couldn’t imagine being this close to his half brother or sister, but he heard the sweetness of it in Sabrina’s voice. He could tell she loved her brothers.

  “So you’re all by yourself in Dublin?”

  “No.” She looked at Trent again and he had the sense that this was something like a moment of truth. Would she tell her brother? And if she did, how would Jake react?

  “Trent’s with me.”

  His heart stuttered with relief.

  “Trent?”

  “I found out I was pregnant a few hours before Seth’s wedding. Trent and I spent so much time together that day that I ended up telling him and he agreed to fly me to Paris, but Pierre wasn’t there. So we went to Spain. Did you know Pierre has a huge working ranch?”

  “The bastard.”

  “I know! He let us think he was a starving artist and all along he was... Well, maybe not rich, but at least solvent.”

  “He’s a piece of work.”

  “Anyway, we found him in Dublin. I told him, and Trent and I headed for the airstrip, but we got caught in a rainstorm.”

  Jake’s voice changed. “Rainstorm?”

  “More like the end of a hurricane.”

  “Let me talk to Trent.”

  Sabrina handed her phone to Trent. “Jake wants to talk to you.”

  He fought an odd emotion that was sort of fear, but not normal fear, more like sheer panic that he’d have to explain his intentions to Sabrina’s brother before he was even sure what Sabrina wanted.

  As casual as possible, he took the phone and said, “Hey, Jake.”

  “If I’m on speaker, take me off.”