Caroselli's Accidental Heir

“How has your pregnancy been going? You and the baby are both healthy?”

“I feel great, the baby is active and kicking just like he should be.”

His heart skipped a beat. “He?”

She flattened her palms against her belly and the ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Or she. I just have this strong feeling it’s a boy.”

That would be awfully convenient. “Where is your suitcase?”

“I didn’t bring one. I wasn’t planning on staying long. In fact...” She pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and checked the display. “I have to get back to the airport soon. So we don’t have a huge amount of time.”

At first he thought she was joking. Did she honestly believe he was just going to let her leave again? While she was pregnant with his baby? He thought she knew him better than that. Of course, if she did, she wouldn’t have left in the first place.

They may not have planned this, but as long as she was carrying his child, she was his responsibility, so for the time being, she was more or less stuck with him. And if the baby really was a boy, he would make his daddy a very wealthy man. If Lucy would marry him, that is.

It sounded simple enough; the only problem was that Lucy was as relationship-phobic as him. Probably even more so. She had been the one to set the boundaries of their relationship, to insist that they keep it casual. Now he had to figure out a way to convince her that getting married was best for the baby.

“You have your ticket?” he asked, and she nodded. “Can I see it?”

Looking puzzled, she pulled a folded sheet of white paper from her fanny pack, which was almost hidden under the swell of her belly. In all the time he’d known her she’d kept her belongings in either a beat-up backpack that she’d picked up in the lost and found at work, or a fanny pack. He’d never seen her carry a conventional purse. There was very little about Lucy that he would call conventional. She marched to the beat of her own drum.

Lucy handed him the sheet of paper and he promptly ripped it in half.

“Oooookay,” she said. “That was very dramatic and all. But you do realize that I can just print another one.”

He crumpled the paper and tossed it into the backseat. “Call it a symbolic gesture.”

“I got that part. I’m just not sure what it symbolizes.”

“You’re not going back to Florida.”

She blinked in surprise. “I’m not?”

“You’re going to stay here in Chicago.”

“Where? My roommate moved to Ohio. Not to mention that I don’t have a job.”

“You’re going to live with me. And as soon as we have time to arrange it, you’re going to marry me.”

* * *

If that was Tony’s idea of a marriage proposal, no wonder he was still single.

How many times had she fantasized about him asking her to marry him? This particular scenario was not at all what she’d had in mind. Technically, he hadn’t even asked. He’d issued an order.

Could anything be less romantic?

“Why would I do that?” she asked, giving him the perfect opportunity to redeem himself.

“I know how against marriage you are,” he said, “and I understand how you feel, but I really believe this is what’s best for the baby.”

Wrong answer, dude.

Not only did he drop the ball, he smashed it flat. He didn’t even try to sugarcoat it. He would only be marrying her for the baby’s sake. So much for those sentiments of love she’d been hoping for. Why didn’t he just reach into her chest and rip out her still-beating heart?

Her mom would have jumped at the opportunity to have a rich and handsome guy take care of her, which is exactly why Lucy couldn’t allow it. Though she couldn’t deny it would be wildly entertaining to see her mom’s expression when she heard the news.

“That sounds like a really bad idea,” she told him, and the deep furrow between his brows said he disagreed.

“It’s not,” he said, as if he expected her to just take his word for it.

“If I marry you, it will confirm what everyone in that house was already thinking. That I got pregnant on purpose to trap you. That I’m looking for a meal ticket.” Just the way her mom had with Lucy’s father. What he had neglected to mention during their brief affair was that he was already married with a family. He had no interest in being a parent to his illegitimate daughter. He’d sent the obligatory monthly check, but when he died three years later, the gravy train—and any hope that he and Lucy might someday meet—died with him.

Lucy had three siblings she had never even spoken to, and whose lack of contact over the years said they had no interest in meeting their illegitimate half sister. She could only imagine what they must have thought of her. And her mother.

“I’ll make sure everyone knows that isn’t the case,” Tony said.

If only it were that simple. “That never works. People are going to believe what they want to believe, regardless of what you tell them.”

His deepening frown said he was getting frustrated with her. “Why does it even matter what my family thinks?”

It mattered to her. She loved Tony, and she wanted to be his wife, even knowing the rest of his family would probably never accept her. But not like this. Not because it was convenient. Or good for the baby. She wouldn’t be anyone’s consolation prize. “I can’t marry you.”

“Sure you can.”

“No. I really can’t.

“I want to take care of you.” He took her hand and held it tight. “You and the baby.”

She pulled her hand free. “Thanks, but I can take care of myself.”

“If you won’t marry me, would you agree to stay with me? At least until the baby is born?”

“I can’t.”

She could tell by his expression that he thought she was being stubborn, and maybe she was a little. But who could blame her? The dynamic was simple. She loved Tony, and he felt obligated. Living together would be painful enough. Marrying him would be downright torture. She could fool herself into believing that his feelings might change, but the reality was if he hadn’t fallen in love with her by now, odds were good he never would. To marry him, even if it was for the baby’s benefit, seemed sad and pathetic. She refused to play the victim.

Been there, done that, burned the T-shirt.

Maybe when they were alone at his place he would pull her into his arms and hold her tight, and tell her he was miserable and lonely after she left. Of course he would have a very logical, not to mention romantic, reason for not coming after her.

And maybe the Pope would convert.

Tony pulled down his street and found a spot close to his building. She’d been a little shocked the first time he brought her there. Everything about Tony screamed rich and classy. He drove a luxury import, drank the best scotch, owned a closet full of designer brand clothes, yet he lived in a nondescript apartment in an equally nondescript building, in what seemed to her to be one of the most boring streets in the entire city of Chicago. But as he had logically put it, why spend a lot of money on a place when he was hardly ever there?

Normally he would have held her hand as they walked into the building and got in the elevator. Often he even got frisky during the ride up, but this time he didn’t touch her. She was both relieved and disappointed.

After a history of nomadic tendencies, Lucy had learned to never attach deep personal feelings to places, but when Tony unlocked the door and she stepped inside his apartment, she got a lump in her throat. She had so many good memories of the time they’d spent here together. At some point in their relationship his place had begun to feel like a second home to her, and she had fooled herself into thinking he might actually want her there with him.