Working on a Full House (9 page)

Though she'd spent a day trying to ignore it. Not quite twenty-four hours. At the end she'd thrown up, spectacularly — and undeniably.

She'd spent that night cocooned in her bed, thinking about the little life growing inside her. By the time she'd gotten up the next morning she'd almost come to terms with that little life, and all it meant. Single motherhood and personal responsibility, having to tell her parents and colleagues...having to tell Cherise. It was not going to be pleasant, but...not all bad, either. A baby. Valerie had to admit that put a glow in the center of her chest. A
baby
.

She'd spent the next two days trying to convince herself she didn't need to tell Roy. He hadn't planned on this, he wouldn't want a baby, or any connection to Valerie. If he never knew, it would be for the best.

But Valerie had not been able to convince herself. True, half of her had argued she didn't even know how to find Roy. He'd told her he didn't have a permanent address. Was she supposed to troll every poker room in an effort to hunt him down? Besides, he didn't even
want
a baby.

But the other half of Valerie, the Sunday school half, had been unrelenting. She had to make an honest effort to find the man. The child growing in her womb was half his. Valerie knew she could not rest unless she went and did the 'right thing.'

That's why she'd driven to Las Vegas this weekend. So far, she'd walked past every poker table in every casino on the Strip without finding Roy.

A not-so-small part of Valerie was relieved. She knew she
ought
to find him, but she couldn't say she actually
wanted
to. She'd done her best to make Roy a dream, something that had only happened in her fantasies.

She didn't want to see his face, and how differently he'd view her in real life — especially after he heard her news.

With her stomach knotting, Valerie glanced at her watch. "Ten more minutes," she murmured. She'd wait at the bar ten more minutes, in some twisted idea the place they'd met was where she was most likely to find him. She'd already spent two hours here, watching people stream by, none of them Roy.

But now she felt a bubble of relief. Ten more minutes and she'd be done with her duty...

Of course that's when she saw him. Strolling through the crowds with a laptop computer under one arm, he was coming right toward the bar. Grace, strength, and harsh male beauty. God, Valerie had forgotten how much male beauty. Her hand froze on her water glass. For a minute she couldn't move.

I can't do this
. He was so — He would be so — But somehow she managed to set down her water glass. She even started to unbend her legs and slide off the barstool.

He saw her. She knew because his graceful stride faltered. On his face shock was quickly covered by a hard, cold mask.

In that moment she knew: not only had he never expected to see her again, he'd never wanted to.

She swallowed something hard and bitter down her throat. In her deepest heart of hearts, she now knew she'd dreamed it might be otherwise, and that he'd be happy to see her.

Reality was the exact opposite.

Valerie managed to descend the rest of the way from her barstool, and balanced on wooden legs.

Roy didn't take his eyes off her. The ever-present crowd of Las Vegas streamed past him to one side and the other, but he just stood staring at Valerie like she was an apparition from hell.

Oh, boy, did she not want to do this.

Then he started toward her, swiftly, determined. It wasn't easy for Valerie to avoid shrinking back, but she stood firm until he came to a stop at the potted plants ringing the bar platform.

"Valerie." His voice was as unreadable as his face.

"Roy." Valerie's voice was a squeaky whisper.

His head tilted a fraction of an inch. "You're looking for me, I take it."

With a jerky motion, she nodded.

There was a subtle shift in his stance. What did that mean? It was impossible to tell as his face managed to get yet more stony.

Taking a slow step back, he said, "Then you'd better come with me."

CHAPTER SEVEN

He took her up to his suite. Valerie was surprised by the opulence of that. A suite. He must have had an upswing in his fortunes since their one date. In any event, it was a relief not to have a bed, reminder of their downfall, taking a prime position in the room. In fact, she couldn't even see a bed from the elegant sitting room.

He walked past her to set his computer on a desk. "Can I get you anything? Something to drink?"

"Uh, no. No, thanks."

He indicated the sofa with a nod of his head. "Then, please. Have a seat."

"Uh...I think I'd rather stand."

His gaze was bland as he turned. "Whatever you like."

"Yes. Ahem."
So, get on with it, you ninny
. But Valerie was sure he must have guessed. She wished he would say it out loud, so she wouldn't have to. "I suppose you're wondering...what I'm doing here."

His voice was smooth as silk. "Why don't you tell me?"

One of her hands clutched the other. Oh, come on, she didn't have to tell him, he must know. Why else would she be here, for goodness' sake? "Look, I just want to say, first of all, that I'm not here to ask for anything. That's not why I came. And I know this has to be the last thing you wanted in your life, so I
really
don't expect anything from you. But I felt you ought to know. It seemed like the right thing to do, to tell you...if I could find you."

His face was a study in impassivity. Was he, despite her little speech, angry? Or, worse yet, indifferent? God, she wished he would say something.

Finally, quietly, he spoke. "Forgive me, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

Valerie halted. He didn't? Her face grew very, very warm. "Oh. Oh. Well, I'm talking about — I know it'll sound unlikely, if not impossible — "

Now Valerie saw emotion in Roy's face: impatience. She took in a deep breath and made herself say it. "I'm pregnant." Her face went even warmer as she thought to add, "With you — I mean, with your baby."

God. Valerie's face was burning now, while nothing showed on Roy's face. Absolutely nothing.

Absolutely nothing. Roy stood in his Mandalay Bay sitting room staring at Valerie — a person he'd never thought he was going to see again — and hoped to God that absolutely nothing of his inner chaos was showing on his face. His heart had taken a sideways roll when he'd seen her at the bar downstairs, her gaze anxious, looking for
him
.

That had been cause enough for consternation, her mere presence, plus its effect on him. He was supposed to be over her.

Now he was certain he couldn't be hearing correctly. Had she just said 'pregnant?' 'With your baby?' As inconspicuously as possible, Roy swallowed. Impossible. He was very careful. He'd never made a woman pregnant.

And he simply couldn't get his mind around the fact that she was here. Here, here, here. Her hair was silk that begged his fingers to thread through it. Her mouth was a fruit he longed to plunder. Her body — he wanted to crush it close to him.

But I'm supposed to be over her. Over her
.

A baby.

A baby.

A
baby?!

Roy blinked and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. Let me make sure — did you say...you're
pregnant
, with my baby?"

An expression of abject guilt twisted her features. "I know, I know. We used condoms. I honestly don't understand how it happened — "

"Condoms." Out of the chaos in Roy's brain came a crystal clear image. That first time they'd made love, he hadn't caught himself from slipping out of her sweet body until it was nearly too late. Nearly. Or perhaps, not quite. "The package states explicitly a three percent failure rate," he heard himself expound to Valerie, the words coming out of a valley of roiling thoughts. "I suppose I've been lucky. Up until now I've experienced performance far better than that."

She laughed, brief and rather hysterical. "Up until now."

"Three percent is three percent." That much, Roy understood. "It can happen." And if anyone was to blame, it was he. God...a
baby
.

"Yes, well, obviously it can happen," she said, with another nervous laugh. She flicked him a glance. "So you're... You..."

He was thrown back into a sea of confusion. Three percent had turned into one hundred percent. Pregnant. She was pregnant, with his baby. Good God, a baby. Some dim, still-operating part of brain told him this was an utter disaster. And yet...and yet...another part of his brain was singing hallelujahs. As if a baby was exactly what he needed. What he
needed
? Meanwhile he was still so blisteringly aware of her, the lithe body and innocently promising eyes. Though he was supposed to be over her.

Dammit, he needed some time. Given a big enough block of time, he could wrench his thoughts back in order.

Meanwhile, with her hands clasped, Valerie took a step backward. Toward the door.

Going? She was going to leave him?

Again
?

There was no time. Roy felt a lurch of pure emotion. He heard himself croak, "I think we ought to get married."

Valerie stopped. So did Roy. Had he just said that? After thirty-five years of assiduously avoiding such a relationship, had the word
marriage
actually come out of his mouth?

Damn straight it had.

Roy could feel himself trembling. There was a sick sensation in his stomach, but his brain was working again. Like a sleeping Gulliver, it was shaking off the confusion and chaos, rising to stand tall and uncluttered.

A baby; that meant certain consequences, whether one liked it or not.

Valerie's mouth opened. Her eyes went big and alarmed. "
What
?"

Roy said it again. "I think we ought to get married." Now with might and beautiful clarity, his mind was humming along. Advantages and disadvantages, reasons and strategy — they all tumbled over each other in his brain and then clicked into place: chunk-a-chunk-a-chunk. His mind hadn't worked with such delightful precision in three weeks.

She was pregnant with his baby. The fact presented certain determinants, along with a host of fascinating variables.

"Married." Valerie stared at Roy, open-mouthed. "Are you craz — I mean, that's hardly — " She stopped to draw in a breath. "You can't be serious."

Roy felt a wonderful calm settle over him. He was absolutely serious. What's more, he intended to make it happen.

Marriage... In a hundred different ways it made sense. She was carrying his baby. Despite and apart from whatever bizarre, inappropriate longings she still stirred in him, that created obligations on his part. He may have rejected his father's world, but that didn't mean he could toss out the fundamentals. If you got a woman pregnant, you married her. That was simply the way it was. His lashes lowered as he experienced a very strange sense of satisfaction.

"Listen, Roy, I guess you're trying to do the right thing, the honorable thing, and I applaud you for it. Absolutely." Valerie was gazing at him wild-eyed. "But let's be serious — "

"Valerie." His low voice cut off her chatter. Chunk-a-chunk-a-chunk. Reasons and excuses. Tailor-made for the guilt and panic he could read on her face. "You are carrying my baby, correct? It's mine?"

Her face paled as she swallowed. "It's yours."

"Well, then." He smiled. "I guess that's going to make me a father." The idea caused a shimmer in the matrix.
He was going to be a father
. But he shook the matrix back into alignment again. He could handle fatherhood. A challenge, it was true, but that's exactly what he needed in his life. A challenge.

"But you — "

"Intend to do the right thing, just as you intend to do," he said quietly.

That shut her up — for about two seconds. "But you don't want to — You told me you didn't like responsibility."

Roy's lashes lowered yet further. Responsibility. She was right, the very word should have sent a shiver of antipathy through him. Instead he felt a growing surge of desire. Even...yearning.

"While it's true I didn't...seek out this particular responsibility," he told Valerie, "now that it's fallen to me, I intend to make absolutely certain I take care of it."

She looked more panicked than ever. "But — "

"Marriage," Roy said.

She visibly swallowed. "If you wanted time with the child, I wouldn't stop you. Of course not. I'd — I'd support that. Absolutely. But that wouldn't mean we have to get
married
."

Oh, yes it would. Er...why? Chunk-a-chunk-a-chunk. More reasons slid into place. "I want no ambiguity," Roy stated. "I want my rights established, in black and white."

"We could go to a lawyer, have something drawn up." Valerie was starting to sound shrill.

Roy made sure to keep his own voice low, in control. "Whatever a lawyer drew up would be more liable to dispute than a marriage. Valerie, marriage is simple, it's clean and direct." He decided to downshift. "Look, it would just be a formality. A piece of paper legalizing my rights — and yours. It wouldn't have to affect your life any more than that."

Her brows drew down. "You're saying we'd marry solely as a legal thing? Lead separate lives?"

There was another shimmer in the matrix. Was that what he was saying? A scrap of paper and then a handshake goodbye? Roy frowned. The requisite block would not slide into place. "I...just want marriage," he decided to say.

Her brows drew down further. "But — "

"But, listen." He didn't want to give her an opportunity to think up more reasons against the idea. The more Roy thought about it, the more he wanted to marry her. He had another argument, one he'd rather not use, but...

"It wouldn't have to be permanent," he told her. "We can get divorced as soon as the baby is born." Well, yes, they
could
... Divorced, he could still fulfill his responsibilities, but it didn't sit well in the matrix.