One-Amazing-Night Baby!. Heidi RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.
been happy?’
Her grin said she was unconvinced. ‘What if we just agree to disagree?’
Not an option. He needed time to work on her. Some leverage. Anything.
A lightbulb went off in his head. ‘I have another idea.’
‘Does it involve food? Because that’s the only one I’ve liked so far.’
‘We’ll have a trial run.’ Until, that was, he convinced her to be sensible.
Her slim nostrils flared. ‘You’re crazy if you think I’d get married simply to see if we should divorce.’
No, no.
Seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, he ran his hands down her arms. ‘I’m talking about living together.’
He read her eyes, the subtle change in body language at his touch. She was considering it.
But eventually she waved her hands and stepped back. ‘Not interested.’
He shoved his hands in his pockets to stop himself from shaking her. ‘Just for one moment can you stop being difficult? Surely you want to give our baby a chance at having a conventional family.’
Her green eyes glistened. ‘People can start out with the best intentions. Doesn’t mean there’s a rainbow on the other side. You know that.’
Right. He’d go for the jugular. ‘Think of it as an experience. Let’s say a three-month experience that could make a difference to the person you love most … your child.’
She stared at him for a long, torn moment.
‘Three months?’
She was cracking. Good. And, if by some miracle she’d forgotten how their sexual chemistry sizzled, now he would fully remind her.
He drew her near, and the desire they’d shared before plumed in the pit of his stomach. His heart began to beat another rhythm as he remembered the way her limbs had felt twined around him, how she’d murmured his name over and over after he’d tipped her over the edge. He needed her to remember too, to convince her to do this his way. The only way.
Pulling her in by her shoulders, he didn’t kiss her, but rather drank in the lines of her face with his gaze—smooth skin, kissable lips, eyes he still wanted to drown in. He couldn’t see that ever changing.
Gradually the tension bracing her body eased. She didn’t return his embrace, but neither did she push him away. ‘Cooper, where on your list is love?’
His blood stopped flowing before he assured her, ‘As of today I have a new list.’
Her mouth twisted to one side. ‘If that’s supposed to make me feel any better, it doesn’t.’
‘Then let’s try this.’
With great purpose he lowered his head and kissed her, with equal measures of tenderness and meaning. A shower of electric impulses zapped over his skin. Down below, his blood began to stir and heat. For a moment he was back in that room with Sophie in his arms and tomorrow a million light years away.
He needn’t worry about luck. If the way her body quivered and pressed against him now was anything to go by, he had more than enough ammunition to succeed.
Because failure was not an option. He wasn’t accustomed to losing, and before long Sophie would learn to accept that.
CHAPTER FIVE
SOPHIE was still reeling when she and Cooper arrived at the restaurant half an hour later.
On one level she took in the rustic brick front, with its green, white and red flag flapping from a mast, the mouthwatering aroma of freshly baked bread and tasty Italian herbs. But on a far deeper plane she was still experiencing that bone-melting kiss, his will wrapping around and attempting to crush hers in the most pleasurable way possible.
She was having this man’s baby. Consequently he was determined to marry her. She couldn’t think of anything more thrilling—or more self-destructive.
At the restaurant’s entrance, a young male maître d’, dressed all in black, moved forward. With a broad smile, he nodded in welcome. ‘Would you prefer a table inside or out today?’
Cooper said, ‘Out’, at the same time she said, ‘In.’
Sophie shot Cooper an incredulous look. ‘That southerly wind is icy.’
Evaluating the sky and the rustling sidewalk trees, he inhaled deeply. ‘It’s refreshing.’
Sophie studied the grey clouds churning overhead. Hunching her shoulders, she clutched each side of her cardigan and wrapped it more securely around her.
Cooper served her one of the persuasive looks she remembered so well. ‘They have the patio heaters going.’ He ran a finger down her arm. ‘If that’s not enough, I could keep you warm.’
Her body screamed at her to say yes, to give in. For so long she’d quietly dreamed of him overwhelming her with his unique brand of passion, as he’d done back in his garden when they’d kissed. But she meant what she’d said.
Cooper was indeed dangerous. If she was to keep her pledge to remain strong and assertive, rather than endlessly compliant, he was precisely the kind of dominant proud male she must avoid. A little late now, granted, but damage control was still available. She would not fall for his smooth talk and smoother ways, then submit to marriage.
In this day and age women had options and opportunities. No one needed to tie themselves to a loveless marriage for security’s sake or anything else. Her baby would do better living alone with her than growing up in a house with two parents who couldn’t agree on what day it was. She simply wouldn’t put her child through the same ordeal she’d endured long ago. She would never forget how she’d tried to shut her ears to the quarrels that had risen up the stairs late at night, when her parents had thought she was asleep.
So why was she even considering Cooper’s suggestion of a three-month trial?
A cold breeze blasted her face. She addressed the maître d’. ‘Inside table, thank you.’
The young man hesitated, but when Cooper nodded, he collected two menus from a lectern and showed them through the wooden beamed archway into an area that exuded an authentic old-world charm.
A casual dark timber bar occupied the far corner of the low-ceilinged cosy room. Fresh flowers adorned settings dressed with green and red chequered tablecloths. But the ochre back wall caught her eye. It was dedicated to family photographs—black and white formal shots that might have dated back to the turn of last century, as well as recent colour snaps.
She knew the advantages of being an only child—no sharing bedrooms or televisions or parents. But at times it could also be lonely. What would it be like to grow up in a large, boisterous family? Like the one celebrating a toddler’s birthday in the photograph that took pride of place in the centre of that wall. They all looked so happy.
Sophie thanked the maître d’ as he retracted her carved wooden chair. Settling in, she set down her bag and, hands on the table, absently played with her bracelet’s three-leaf clover charm.
After Cooper had removed his jacket, he shunted in his chair. The light reflected off one of Sophie’s charms and hit his eyes. He blinked down at her wrist. ‘Who gave you the lucky bracelet? A favourite kooky aunt?’
Sophie bristled at ‘kooky’.
She leant back as the maître d’ laid a napkin on her lap. ‘I bought it myself, just before the wedding.’
With a self-satisfied grin, he reached for the water carafe and filled her glass. ‘And you haven’t taken it off since?’
Oh, yeah. He was confident all right.
She lifted her water. ‘Actually, the clasp