Postcards From… Collection. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
to her, dominating the very air she breathed and halting her words in mid-flow.
‘And now we have to deal with it.’ His attention was caught by passers-by, happy in the spring sunshine when he now had the weight of guilt pressing down on him, all but rooting him to the spot like one of the large trees of the park.
This was his fault. He should have been more careful, more in control, but if he was honest with himself he should never have given in to the attraction in the first place. Not with the woman who had the power to destroy his and his mother’s happiness. What the hell had he been thinking? What had happened to his usual self-control? Emma had happened. She’d completely disarmed him, which he strongly suspected had been her intention all along.
‘Deal with it?’ He heard the panic in her voice and turned his attention back to her, to see she’d paled even more dramatically. She needed to sit down. He did too, but the restaurant would be busy, far too busy to discuss an unplanned pregnancy and the ramifications of such news.
‘This way,’ he said as he took her arm, ensuring she came with him. He strode towards the edge of the park where he knew the horse-drawn carriages would be waiting for customers. They could talk as they toured the park and, more importantly, she wouldn’t be able to run out on him this time. She would have to face their situation, just as he’d had to as he’d gone over this very moment in his mind during recent weeks. In the carriage she would have no choice but to listen to him and accept that his solution was their only option.
‘Where are we going?’ She pulled back against him as if she was on the verge of bolting again, backing up his reasoning for taking a carriage ride like a tourist.
‘Somewhere we can talk. Somewhere you’ll have no choice but to sit and hear what I have to say, how we are going to deal with this.’ Still she resisted and he turned to face her, sliding his hand down her arm to take her hand in his. As he did so, that fizz of energy filled him once more and he could see her face again, full of desire the night she’d taken his hand in Vladimir. The night they’d conceived a new life. His child. His heir. ‘You are not going to slip away so easily this time, Emma, not now you carry my child.’
* * *
The determination and bravado slipped from Emma and her body became numb. She was too tired to fight any more, too tired to worry and fret over the future, and Nikolai’s suggestion of sitting down seemed the best option. She walked hand in hand with him through the park. To onlookers they would have appeared like any other couple, walking together in the sunshine, but inside dread had begun to fill her, taking over the sizzle of attraction from just being with him again. Exactly how did he intend to deal with it?
‘We’ll take a ride round the park,’ Nikolai said as he stopped beside a horse-drawn carriage and she blinked in shock. Was this just another of his romantic pastimes to distract her? Then the truth of that thought hit her. That was exactly what he’d done in Vladimir. He’d gone out of his way to distract her and had even successfully managed to keep her from meeting his grandmother.
He’d been keeping her from knowing more about his family and, thinking back to the moment they’d met, she could see he’d been evasive about the story of rags to riches she was supposed to cover. Why, then, had he said the things he had that morning after they’d made love, giving her a deeper insight into the childhood which had shaped the man he now was?
She still couldn’t shake off the sensation that he’d wanted to say more but had guarded against it. Had he really believed she would put all those details in the article? She’d just wanted to create a fairy-tale story to go with the amazing photographs she’d taken, but he’d accused her of manipulating everything to get what she wanted.
‘Trying to make me all soft again, are you?’ The words were out before she had time to think of the implications. If she’d been clever she would have never let him know she’d guessed his motives.
‘There is nothing to go soft about. I need to know exactly what you submitted to World in Photographs about my family and then we can discuss what happens next.’ He opened the door of the carriage and, with a flourish of manners she knew he was displaying for the purpose of getting what he wanted, waited for her to climb in.
Emma looked from his eyes to the park around her and beyond that to the tall buildings of New York, a place she’d never been to before. What choice did she have? She was alone in a city she didn’t know and pregnant with this man’s baby.
‘I have my laptop at the hotel, I can show you exactly what will be in it.’ The painful knowledge that he’d rather discuss an article she’d written than talk about their baby cut into her. She sat in the seat, wishing she hadn’t got in the carriage. The idea of playing the tourist with him again brought back heated memories of that first kiss in the sleigh.
‘Did you use anything to do with what we talked about after our night together?’ His voice was deep and firm, quashing those memories instantly as he snapped out the question.
‘No,’ she said and looked directly at him, into the depths of eyes that were shuttered, keeping her out and his thoughts locked away. ‘I never wanted to pry into your family history, more to show an insight into your country. It was what Richard had suggested in the first place.’
‘Who is Richard?’
‘A photographer I met while on my course. He works for World in Photographs and helped me get the contract to write the article about your family.’ She had nothing to hide, so why shouldn’t she tell him about how she’d got the contract in the first place? If he chose to see it in the wrong light, that was his problem.
‘What do you owe this Richard for getting you the contract?’ The sharpness of his voice made her look at him quickly, but the coldness of his eyes was almost as bitter as the wind in Vladimir had been.
‘Nothing. All I wanted was to take the best photographs I could and showcase your country, weaving in some of your family stories, which I have achieved without adding in anything you told me in your hotel room.’
‘Then for now I trust you,’ he said as the carriage pulled away, the sudden movement making her grab the seat to steady herself. Instantly his hands reached out to hold her and from the seat opposite she felt that heated attraction connect them once more. Their eyes met; she looked into the inky blackness and swallowed as she saw the glint of steely hardness had given way to something more dangerous—desire. She couldn’t allow herself to fall for his seductive charms again; she just needed to deal with the consequences of their night together and leave before she fell even further and deeper for him. Irritated by the direction of her thoughts, she pulled away and sat back in the carriage seat, desperate to avoid his scrutiny.
If he didn’t trust her with his secrets then why had he told them to her? Had that also been a way of manipulating her to do what he wanted, make her think what he wanted her to think? It had not occurred to her until now that what he’d said might not have been the complete truth.
‘I wouldn’t lie to you, Nikolai,’ she said defensively, and looked away from the dark eyes, feigning an interest in the tall buildings clearly visible above the newly green trees of the park. Maybe if she took a few shots from the carriage he’d see she was as unaffected by him as he appeared to be by her.
The lens of the camera clicked but she had no idea what she’d taken. Concentration was impossible with his dominating presence opposite her and the looming discussion of their baby. She turned the camera off and looked at him to see he’d been watching every move she’d made.
‘We need to talk about our predicament.’ Still his dark eyes watched her, assessing her reaction to his words.
‘Predicament?’ she snapped, giving him her full attention. ‘Is that what this baby is to you? A predicament? Something else you have to deal with? Just what do you suggest, Nikolai?’
‘It is a predicament,’ he said calmly, far too calmly, and it unnerved her. What was coming next? ‘One I never wanted but one which now means we must get married.’
‘Married?’