Mistresses: The Consequences Of Desire: Beach Bar Baby / Walk on the Wild Side / Claiming His Own

He didn’t have the first clue what he was supposed to do about the bomb she’d just exploded in his nice, easy, island life. Correction: his formerly nice, easy, island life. Fatherhood was something he hadn’t planned for and didn’t know a damn thing about.

And he hated not knowing, because it reminded him too much of his childhood. The dead weight of responsibility, the relentless pressure of being constantly trapped without a way out and that terrifying feeling of insecurity, of never knowing if he would be strong enough, smart enough, man enough to make things right for his mom.

He didn’t want to live through all that again. And he hated that he would have to now.

And because of that he’d panicked yesterday, when Ella had told him her news—and had dropped a pretty big bomb on her in return.

Because however much he might want to blame all this on Ella, he knew now—once he’d taken the time to examine all the facts—that he couldn’t. He also knew he couldn’t just walk away from his own kid and forget about it—the way she’d suggested—because that would make him no better than his old man. And he was pretty sure he couldn’t do that and live with himself afterwards.

All of which left him with only one option. Suck it up, stop whining about what he couldn’t change and try to deal with it.

And the only way he could do that was to deal with Ella first.

Forcing the trademark ‘never-let-them-see-you’re-scared’ smile he’d perfected as a kid onto his lips, he pushed open the door. But as Ella’s gaze locked on his and her eyes went wide with distress his step faltered, his heartbeat stumbled and the thickening in his throat got a hell of a lot worse.

* * *

‘Coop?’ Ella bit into her lip, the tremor of shock and anxiety almost as overwhelming as the wave of relief.

She’d never expected to see him again, had convinced herself that his angry departure was for the best. She’d told herself over and over again during a long night spent on the phone to Ruby, and then lying in bed staring at the crack in her ceiling, that she couldn’t make Coop want to be a father—any more than she could make him forgive her for something she hadn’t done. So it would be pointless and futile to contact him again.

‘We need to talk,’ he said, his deep voice slightly strained but with none of the explosive anger from their last encounter. ‘Can you take a break?’

She nodded, too stunned to speak, then glanced round the shop to locate her business partner. Ruby stood chatting to a young couple to whom she’d just delivered a couple of chai lattes. But then her head came up and she spotted Coop. All traces of the genial hostess disappeared as she marched back across the café.

‘What do you want?’ Ruby stepped behind the counter to stand shoulder to shoulder with Ella. ‘Haven’t you done enough?’

‘I’m here to talk to Ella, honey, not you,’ Coop said, the casual tone in direct contrast to the challenge in his eyes.

‘Well, “honey”...’ Ruby sneered the endearment, squaring up for a fight ‘...you’re going to have to go through me to get to her after the immature way you behaved yesterday.’

‘It’s okay, Ruby.’ Ella touched her friend’s arm, emboldened by her support—even if it was counterproductive right now.

The last thing she wanted was for Coop to find out how much his accusations had hurt her, or how she’d dissolved into a quivering wreck after his departure. Showing that kind of weakness would only put her on the defensive. ‘Coop’s right—we need to talk. Is it okay if I take a few minutes?’

‘Are you sure?’ Ruby asked.

‘We’ll need more than a few minutes to sort this mess out,’ Coop interrupted before she could reassure her friend. ‘I’ve got a car waiting outside to take us back to my hotel, so we can have some privacy.’

This mess.

Ella’s heart shrank. Her baby wasn’t a mess. But if that was the way Coop saw it, then sorting out his involvement—or rather the lack of it—would be fairly clear cut. And she supposed she should be glad that he seemed prepared to do that much.

‘Why do you need privacy?’ Ruby interrupted again. ‘So you can shag her and then have another temper tantrum like a two-year—’

‘Ruby, please, don’t.’ Ella raised her voice, grateful for the spark of indignation. ‘I’ll be fine. All we’re going to do is talk.’ She wasn’t about to make the mistake again of believing the strong physical attraction between them meant an emotional connection too.

She really didn’t know this man. His volatile reaction last night had proved that. This ‘talk’ would be a chance to find out more about him—while also reassuring him that her expectations of him were zero as far as the baby was concerned.

Ruby continued to eyeball Coop for several pregnant seconds, but, instead of rising to the provocation, he grinned.

‘You heard the lady.’ He slung his hands in his pockets, the picture of nonchalance as he raised an eyebrow, the challenge unmistakable. ‘All we’re going to do is talk.’ His gaze landed on Ella and the unwanted hum of awareness seared through her body. ‘This time.’

* * *

‘How are you? Is everything okay with the kid?’

Ella turned, to find Coop watching her from the opposite side of the cab as it crawled down Camden High Road. After persuading Ruby that she was woman enough to handle a private chat with her baby’s father, she’d been careful to seat herself as far away as possible from him. But the tentative enquiry and the flicker of concern knocked her off balance again.

‘Yes, everything’s good.’

‘I just wondered because...’ he paused to clear his throat, looking more uncomfortable than she’d ever seen him ‘...I was kind of rough with you. In your apartment. You know, before you told me.’

She blinked, puzzled. He hadn’t been rough, not until after he’d heard the news and then only verbally. But then it dawned on her what he was referring to. Their frantic lovemaking against the wall. The blush climbed into her cheeks and heat pulsed in her sex at the visceral memory. While a matching, much more dangerous warmth tugged under her breastbone.

‘Oh, no, everything’s fine, really. Sex isn’t a problem in pregnancy—as long as we don’t start breaking furniture it should be okay.’ The blush launched up to her hairline as it occurred to her what she had implied. ‘Not that we’re likely to be...well, you know.’

The sensual smile was even more unsettling. ‘Yeah, I get it.’ He tapped his fingers against his knee. ‘Listen, I owe you another apology.’

She struggled not to be seduced by the smouldering look he appeared to be sending her, which she decided had to be an optical illusion. After their argument yesterday, he wasn’t likely to jump her again. And she definitely did not plan to jump him.

‘What for?’ she said, unable to deny the tiny trickle of hope at his conciliatory tone. The less acrimony between them, the more chance they had of making this talk as painless as possible.

‘For losing my temper. For freaking out when you told me...’ his gaze dipped pointedly to her belly ‘...about your condition. For making out like this was all your fault.’

Relief was sharp and sweet at the heartfelt words. ‘So you don’t believe I got pregnant to set you up any more?’

He had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘Not once I’d examined the facts. I figure opening that first condom packet with my teeth probably wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.’ His gaze fixed on her. ‘And after what happened yesterday, I’m guessing even if you had told me the truth about being on the pill, I would have risked it. Things had got pretty hot by then already.’

The muscles of her thighs melted as the pesky hum of reaction shimmered down to her core.

‘I appreciate your honesty.’ She nodded, accepting his apology with deliberate formality, while crossing her legs in an attempt to ease the ache in her sex.

Not going there. Remember?

‘I owe you an apology, too.’ She heaved a sigh, knowing she was hardly blameless in the misunderstandings that had arisen between them.

‘Yeah?’ He arched a questioning brow.

‘I should have corrected you...’ The blush fired up her neck as his lips quirked, the sensual knowledge in his smile not doing a thing to cool the hot spot between her thighs. ‘But I wasn’t really paying a lot of attention to the conversation at that point.’

‘You and me both.’ The low comment was husky with intimacy.

She cleared her throat. Hormones behave. Now. ‘But to be honest, I really didn’t think it would make any difference because...’ She hesitated. ‘I’ve had some fertility issues. Believe me, the chances of me getting pregnant were extremely slim.’

He frowned. ‘How slim?’

‘Well, if my doctor’s reaction is anything to go by when she confirmed the pregnancy, I think we might be talking lottery-winning odds.’