Ariana, he said gently. Sooner or later, your family will have to be told. You cant keep two babies a secret forever.
I know. She pulled in a ragged sigh. I know. In fact, I really meant to all along, but first I wanted to get marriedMamas old-fashioned about that. Id told the entire family about the engagement, but Benjy was always vague about the wedding date, not making a commitment until three days before the courthouse fiasco. Id planned to let them know about the babies once we married. When that never happened and I had to tell them about the breakup, I couldnt bring myself to
reveal the pregnancy at the same time. One shock was enough. But the longer I put off telling them, the harder it became.
Procrastinations hell. He should know. Hadnt he said hed think about that high-profile position with his dads law firm instead of refusing straight off the way hed wanted to?
No kidding. But once the babies come and I have my life under control again, everything will be fine and Ill announce them to the world. Oh, Grant, I love these babies so much. My soul sings every time I think of watching them grow from perfect babies into beautiful, unique individuals. I cant wait to hold them and count their fingers and kiss their noses and One nail-chewed hand flew to her mouth. Im sorry. You didnt ask for all that motherly gushing.
Some odd emotion caught in his chest at Arianas passionate speech. Hed dreamed of seeing that expression on Tiffanys face, of sharing the unbridled joy of pregnancy and childbirth with the woman he loved. But Tiffany had put an end to such foolish fantasies.
Carefully, deliberately, he shifted his attention back to a woman who did want children. As an attorney he empathized to a certain point with all his clients, but Ariana didnt appear to want his sympathy. Though shed made some mistakes, she didnt wallow in self-pity, and, unlike her ex-fiancé, Ariana took full responsibility for her life, embracing the good parts of a difficult situation. He admired that. Yes, that was it. He admired her grit and determination. And hed darn well find a way to see her through this difficult period.
He was still contemplating the particulars of such action, when the rotund waiter approached the table. Sir, would you and the wife care for some dessert?
Not wanting to embarrass the waiter, Grant ignored the mistake and shook his head. None for me. Ariana?
No, thank you. He could see that she was disconcerted by the waiters presumption that they were married. She dipped her head and fiddled with the remaining linguini, a pose he found both lovely and alluring. Long, dark eyelashes curved over the crests of her delicate, pink-tinged cheekbones.
For a moment he let his mind slide into the thought planted by the hapless waiter and the memories of Tiffanys cruelty. What if Ariana were his wife? What if those were his babies she carried beneath her heart? Regardless of Tiffanys taunts, hed yearned to be a father, a good one. To take his children to the Cape and teach them to sail. Or to deep-sea fish and dig clams. Ariana would look beautiful walking barefoot along a sun-kissed beach with her rich, dark hair blowing in the breeze.
Your check, sir. The waiters voice pulled him out of his reverie. Swallowing thickly, he forced his gaze away from Arianas lovely profile and reached for his wallet.
Teeth clenched, he reminded himself that the case against marriage was settled long ago. As much as the truth pained him, there would be no children for Grant Lawson. And certainly no wife. Never, never, never a wife.
Chapter Three
A shadow fell across Arianas desk. A tall shadow that smelled like expensive sandalwood. Peeking from beneath her eyelashes, she glimpsed well-groomed nails, a Rolex watch, and immaculate cuffs. She lifted her head, up, up, up, to find a pair of blue eyes boring into her. The babies reacted, shooting a karate chop to her backbone. What was it about blue eyes that made them behave that way?
Are you ready?
For what?
Grant tilted an eyebrow toward the clock hanging over the water cooler. Its after five. Time to go home.
So it is. One of the other girls in the department hadnt felt well this afternoon, and Ariana had taken over a project for her. She went back to proofreading the copy shed spent the last hour and half writing, expecting Grant to go away.
He didnt.
Laying her yellow pencil aside, she asked, Did you need something?
Go ahead and
finish up. He crossed one arm over his middle and gripped his chin, stroking a thumb over his bottom lip. Ill wait.
For what?
He tilted his thumb toward her. For you to finish so I can drive you to your apartment.
Ariana lay both palms against her desk and rolled backward. Are we going to have this argument again?
It wasnt that she didnt appreciate the ride home. She did. The ride didnt disturb her. Grant did. He smelled too good, looked too perfect, and was far too thoughtful. And right now, her life was too much of a mess to think such things.
No argument required. Since I drive near your neighborhood on my way home, dropping you off makes perfect sense. A crowded and noisy subway cant be healthy for unborn children.