Project: Runaway Bride (13 page)

To hell with that, all the way around. A baby, it turned out, was just the justification he needed to turn this situation on its head.

Glass clinked as he set his drink none too gently on the table at his elbow and climbed to his feet.

Juliet had walked out on him twice now, and both times he’d let her go.

She wasn’t going to get a third chance.

* * *

When Reid showed up at the door of Juliet’s loft, he was as sober as a judge and wasn’t about to put up with any bull. He’d had a meeting early that morning that hadn’t gone very well, and now this.

He probably should have put it off another day or two. Or at least another few hours, until he was in a moderately better mood. But he was dressed to impress—charcoal slacks and suit jacket, light blue shirt and dark blue tie, all pressed and polished and professional—and figured putting his best foot forward with Juliet wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

Raising his hand, he rapped his knuckles against the dark gray of the reinforced-metal door. He waited and was about to knock again when it opened.

He’d expected Juliet or one of her sisters to answer, but instead, Reid found himself standing face-to-face with Lily’s fiancé, Nigel Statham. Reid had had a number of interactions with the man because of his involvement in the investigation into the theft of Lily’s designs. The theft had come from inside the California branch of the U.K.-based Ashdown Abbey, which the Statham family owned and Nigel was currently running.

Reid certainly hadn’t anticipated seeing the man here, though. And from the looks of it, Reid was interrupting something.

Nigel’s shirt was untucked and had clearly been rebuttoned with haste and a lack of precision, leaving the tails uneven. The fact that they were untucked at all was telling enough, given what he knew of the straitlaced Brit.

Reid cleared his throat, feeling suddenly awkward and intrusive. The chances of Juliet being at the loft while her sister and her sister’s fiancé were in the middle of...what they were obviously in the middle of was unlikely. But since he was here and had already stepped in it, it would have been even more peculiar not to go ahead and ask.

“Hey,” Reid said. “Sorry to, um... Yeah, sorry.” He let the apology drop with a man-to-man shrug of the shoulder.

“I came to talk to Juliet,” he continued. Then, already knowing the answer, he said, “I don’t suppose she’s here.”

“No,” Nigel responded. “It’s just...”

He trailed off as Lily came to stand at his side. Her hair was mussed, and her buttons were in no better shape than her fiancé’s.

“Just the two of us,” Nigel finished.

Reid nodded in understanding.

“I don’t think Juliet wants to see you right now,” Lily told him quietly.

To his surprise, she didn’t sound defensive or angry. Even her expression was soft, almost sympathetic.

“She’s been through a lot,” Lily added. “She needs some time to herself.”

“I know,” he replied, digging deep for a modicum of calm. After all, Lily wasn’t the Zaccaro he had big, fat issues with. “But I need to talk to her.”

Lily lifted her gaze to her fiancé. They exchanged a glance, Nigel finally lifting a shoulder as if to say
it’s your call.

Reid frowned, his voice harsher than he intended when he said, “She’s carrying my child. Don’t you think that buys me a little consideration?”

Nigel’s arm went around Lily’s waist and he tugged her protectively close, making Reid feel like a first-class heel. Judging by the confusion on the other man’s face, he didn’t know any of the details behind Reid and Juliet’s relationship, but without a doubt he was going to step in and back Lily no matter what.

Reid could respect him for that, but if he had to reach out and shake Juliet’s sister to get the information he needed, then he would do it. Or at least get as far as he could before Nigel put him on his ass. Which was no less than he would do if their situations were reversed.

He tried once more for the calm and reasonable approach. Meeting Lily’s blue eyes, which were just a couple shades lighter than Juliet’s, he let her see his sincerity and quite frankly, his need.

“Please,” he whispered.

A few seconds passed, and then she let out a sigh.

“She’s not here, in New York,” Lily said. “She and Zoe went to Connecticut to visit our parents. And I think Juliet wanted to patch things up with Paul.”

Twelve

R
eid gripped the steering wheel, his speed hovering well above the legal limit. The prospect of getting pulled over wasn’t even a blip on his radar, however.

His blood pressure was too high, his mind cluttered with what Lily had told him back at the loft.

So Juliet wanted to patch things up with Paul, did she?

His teeth gnashed together so hard he expected them to turn to dust.

What had happened to her declaration that she was through with that misogynistic jackass? Or that said jackass wouldn’t want anything to do with her now that she was pregnant with another man’s child?

Then there had been Lily’s parting shot and reminder that she didn’t think Juliet wanted anything to do with him at the moment. That she needed some space, needed some distance, wanted to be alone. Translation: she wanted to stay far away from him.

Well, too damn bad. They’d had an understanding of sorts. In addition to saying she was done with the ex-fiancé, she’d claimed he would have total access to his child and full disclosure on the pregnancy.

Taking off without warning to parts unknown—aka Connecticut—was a breach of that accord, as far as he was concerned.

He hadn’t bothered arguing with Lily or filling her in on his so-called agreement with her sister. It was none of her business, and she was never
not
going to be on her sister’s side about every little thing, anyway.

He’d left Lily and her fiancé to whatever they’d been doing before he knocked on the door and headed back to his car, loosening and stripping off his tie in angry jerks along the way.

Crossing town to his office, he’d avoided stopping to converse with anyone, bypassing employees and cubicles until he could close himself in behind his desk and look up the address for Juliet’s parents’ home in Connecticut. It would have been easier to simply ask Lily for it, but then she would have called Juliet and told her he was on his way, and he didn’t particularly want her to have advance warning of his arrival. He also could have called and asked his personal secretary for the information, but hadn’t particularly wanted anyone in the office knowing what he was up to or asking questions about his absence later.

Jotting the address on a slip of paper, he exited his office again, telling Paula to clear his schedule “for a while” before taking the elevator downstairs and climbing back behind the wheel of his Mercedes. He entered the Zaccaros’ address into his GPS and took off, amazed he didn’t chew through his seat belt and half the dashboard before he managed to make it out of the city.

Now there were only mere tenths of a mile left until he reached the Zaccaro estate, and his internal temperature hadn’t lowered a single digit. He was all but steaming from the ears.

He also had no idea what he was going to say to Juliet when he saw her, he just knew he needed to get his temper under control before that happened. He was
not
her ex, and he was never going to be, no matter how furious or frustrated he might get with her.

Pulling up the long, circular driveway, he came to a stop several yards from the front of the sprawling white house with its black shutters and pristine, brightly blooming flower beds.

He cut the engine and sat there for a while, waiting for some sense of Zen tranquility to wash over him. Which, of course, didn’t happen. The best he could manage was a slow, even inhale and exhale and a small amount of mental clarity.

Go to the door, lay things out for Juliet in straightforward, no-nonsense terms. Let her think it over, and if his point of view didn’t work for her, go to court and fight for his right to see his child.

It wasn’t his first choice by a long shot, but he wasn’t going to sit back and watch the same thing happen with Juliet and the son or daughter she was carrying that had happened with Valerie and the son he hadn’t even known had been born until years later. Not when what he felt for Juliet was a thousand times stronger than anything he’d ever experienced with Val.

He got out of the car and crossed the paved drive to the redbrick front porch with its tall white pillars on either side of the door. His footsteps were the only sound other than a gentle breeze blowing through the nearby trees until he raised a hand and pressed the doorbell. He heard the muted chime from inside the house, and wondered at the intense pounding behind his rib cage as he waited for someone to answer.

Once again, he was prepared to find Juliet on the other side, and once again he was confronted by a different Zaccaro sister instead. This time, it was Zoe. She was smiling when she opened the door, but the minute she saw him, her blue eyes went ice-cold and her mouth turned down in a frown that was only one short trip away from a glare.

He blew out a breath and thought,
Here we go again.

“Hello, Zoe,” he said by way of greeting, making sure to keep his tone low and almost sickeningly polite. The last thing he needed was to give this sister more reason to be wary of or upset with him and go into full gatekeeper mode. He had enough negatives stacked against him already, thank you very much.

She didn’t respond, merely crossed her arms over her chest and tapped the toe of one of her glittery stacked heels. She was a little underdressed for visiting her folks, he thought, taking in her tight dress and the amount of skin left bare both above and below the slinky material.

But of course she hadn’t asked for his opinion, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to give it. Not when he was trying to make nice and extract information from a woman who was quickly taking on some of the less attractive characteristics of an out-of-control pit bull.

“I’m looking for your sister, Juliet,” he said, as though any part of that explanation for his presence was actually necessary.

“I know who you’re looking for,” she snapped, the tapping of her foot growing faster and louder. “I just don’t think she wants to see you.”

Reid’s jaw clenched, molars fusing together as he fought to hold on to his temper. He was getting
really
tired of hearing that.

He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring as he counted to ten. Through his teeth, because he just couldn’t get them to part
that
much, he said, “Would you please tell her I’m here and let her make that decision on her own?”

Zoe’s eyes narrowed. She looked him up and down, freezing him with her snooty-rich-girl stare.

Finally, she seemed to relax the slightest bit. Her arms loosened, her self-designed daZZle heels stopped clicking against the foyer floor and she tipped her head to one side.

“She’s not here right now,” Zoe said softly. “She went out for a while.”

“Do you mind if I ask where she is?” he asked, matching her steady tone.

For the first time, indecision crossed the younger woman’s face. Then she gave a growl of frustration.

“Fine. She went to see Paul. I tried to talk her out of it, at least temporarily, and even offered to go with her. But she insisted and said it was something she had to do alone.”

Reid could feel his ire beginning to rise again. His fingers curled at his sides. He’d hoped to catch her before she “patched things up” with the bastard, though what he’d planned to do or say to keep that from happening, he didn’t know.

He sucked a great gulp of air into his lungs, letting it out slowly at the same time he forced his hands to relax.

In a low voice that almost didn’t sound like his own, he said, “Will you tell me where he lives so I can go talk to her? Hopefully before she makes a monumental mistake.”

Zoe tipped her head in the other direction. After a second, she asked, “Will you promise not to hurt her?”

He leaned back as though he’d been punched, eyes going wide. “I would never lay a hand on her,” he responded. Passionately. Sincerely. With more than a hint of affront.

“There are a lot of ways to hurt someone,” Zoe said quietly. “Not all of them leave bruises.”

If her question caught him off guard, that comment jolted him right down to the soles of his Italian-leather oxfords.

“You’re right. And I promise,” he said softly. “I’ll do my level best not to hurt her.”

It took another couple tense minutes for her to decide, but then she straightened, uncrossed her arms and rattled off the address of Juliet’s ex-fiancé. The man Reid was going to try really hard not to put in traction.

* * *

As Juliet stepped out of the house, tugging the door closed behind her, the only thing she could think was that she had overdressed for the occasion. She’d wanted to look nice, but not too nice. Definitely not suggestive in any way, but not too casual or uncaring, either.

She’d opted for a cute little sundress from her sister’s summer collection and a pair of burnt-orange espadrilles—not Zoe’s creation, she had to admit—that matched the giant poppies on the dress’s skirt. It was something she would have worn to the shop or out to lunch, or even just to work in the loft’s design studio on a day when she was feeling bright and sunny.

But today, it had been a waste of time to try to look even halfway presentable. A total waste of makeup, as Zoe would say.

The click of the latch at her back carried a weight of finality, yet it didn’t bother her. She didn’t particularly care.

And that was good. Better than good. It was a relief. Her ticket to freedom, really.

With a smile slowly spreading across her face, she took the three wide steps in front of her with a bit of a bounce and walked down the brick walk to the tree-lined street of the cozy, upscale neighborhood that had nearly become her home.

Stepping off the curb, she rounded the hood of her car with every intention of climbing in and driving back to her parents’. Maybe stopping at their favorite bakery along the way to pick up a cake or pie or a dozen of the shop’s giant specialty cookies because she suddenly felt like celebrating.

But at the last minute, she raised her head and stumbled to a halt. Across the street, with the nose of his Mercedes pointing in the opposite direction of her own car, Reid stood there, leaning against the driver’s side of the glossy black vehicle.

“Reid,” she breathed in surprise. Maybe the day hadn’t been such a waste of makeup after all. “What are you doing here?”

He pushed away from the car, letting his crossed arms drop, and strode in her direction.

“I came to see for myself,” he said.

His cool tone was the first sign she had that this probably wasn’t going to be a warm and fuzzy meeting. Which was a shame, because she’d actually been in a good mood, verging on almost warm and fuzzy, only a few seconds ago for the first time in a long time.

Her shoulders slumped a bit and her voice was resigned when she asked, “See what for yourself?”

“This.” He tipped his head toward the sprawling colonial behind her. “That you couldn’t wait to get back to your fiancé, even after you promised you wouldn’t. Even knowing you’re pregnant with
my
child.”

Juliet opened her mouth to respond. She was ready to snap at him, to tell him that—pregnant with his child or not—he had no right to track her every move, to confront her at every turn, to accuse her of crimes she hadn’t committed.

Then she paused, a sudden sort of serene realization washing over her.

“You’re never going to trust me, are you?” she asked quietly, making it more of a statement than a question, since she already knew the answer. “After everything that’s passed between us—baby or no baby,
ex-
fiancé or no ex-fiancé—you’re always going to suspect me of something. You’re always going to be waiting to interrogate me because you think I’ve been up to something behind your back.”

She shook her head, gaze flicking toward the ground as a wave of sadness spilled over her. She hadn’t envisioned a happily-ever-after future with Reid any more than she could see herself crawling back to Paul and being happy with him for the next fifty years.

But she and Reid were going to share a child. They were going to be in close, regular contact, probably for the rest of their lives. It would have been nice if those interactions could have been friendly and polite.

It seemed that wasn’t going to be the case, though, and that hurt more than she would have thought.

“For the record,” she told him, “I never promised not to see or speak with Paul again. But I
can
promise you that we’re not getting back together. Even if I were interested—which I so
completely
am not—” she gave a roll of her eyes “—I doubt Paul would be any more. At least judging by the fact that he had another woman naked in his bed when I arrived. And not for the first time. Apparently he’s been seeing other women all along. He took great satisfaction in pointing out that he’d been willing to marry me for appearances’ sake, but he’d certainly never intended to give up his extracurricular activities.”

Reid’s eyes widened a millimeter, and Juliet was inordinately pleased that she’d been able to shock him with that piece of information.

“That’s right,” she continued. “It looks like we’ve both moved on. And it’s for the best, believe me. But I needed to apologize for what I did to him that day at the church. My actions were unacceptable, and even though he didn’t deserve me, he didn’t deserve that, either.”

For long, drawn-out moments, there was nothing but tense silence between them. She didn’t hear crickets, but there were a few birds in the trees whose chirping she could make out clear as a bell.

And then Reid exhaled, the sound drowning out the birds as he lowered his head and drove his fingers through his short, dark hair. After a minute, he lifted his gaze to hers. “You know, I promised your sister I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said carefully. “Looks like I broke that vow right off the bat.”

Juliet’s heart gave a little lurch, but he didn’t give her time to respond.

“I feel awkward having this conversation in front of your ex’s house,” he began, scowling slightly and then shifting from one foot to the other. “Is there someplace else we could go where we’d have a bit more privacy?”

There weren’t a whole lot of options, given that they were both a state away from their respective homes.