Sunny ignored it. ‘I won’t take you for anything. What’s yours will remain yours. You can trust me on that. I’ll just go back to Australia and get on with my life.’
‘Money has nothing to do with it!’ he fiercely claimed.
‘I’m glad you understand that,’ Sunny shot back at him, undeterred by his vehemence. ‘It never did for me,’ she continued flatly. ‘But a child matters, Bryce. If I can’t give you one, it’s best we part now.’
‘No!’ he repeated strongly.
She looked at him with deadly calm washed out eyes. ‘You know it. I know it. That’s how it is.’
He stared back, his black brows beetled down over eyes burning with the need to wipe out all she’d said. But he couldn’t. The equation was irrefutable.
Sunny turned away, forcing her tremulous legs to take one step after another, increasing the distance between them as she made her way up the stairs to the bedroom where their mating had been a delusion. It had not borne fruit. An empty bed…but a soft pillow to bury her misery in.
Bryce watched her walk away from him, too stunned by the bald words she had spoken to make any move. All he could think of was…did he mean so little to her?
He didn’t want a divorce. Not for any reason. They’d been married almost two months and it had been the best two months of his entire life. He’d felt…truly not alone anymore. Not that he had ever really dwelled on loneliness. He’d considered himself self-sufficient.
But Sunny had filled all the empty spaces that he hadn’t even recognised before she came into his life…filled them with warmth and joy, giving him a sheer pleasure in being, in having her with him, in sharing all the things he’d never really shared with anyone.
Divorce!
For the sake of some theoretical child he might have with a Kristen-like replacement?
Could such a child make up for a barren marriage?
Everything within Bryce shouted no!
He’d just paid out a fortune to be rid of Kristen Parrish and her self-righteous claims, a costly mistake for choosing her in the first place. But choosing Sunny was no mistake. Child or no child, he couldn’t bear to even think of living the rest of his life without her.
She was his wife.
His wife in every sense.
He’d won her and nothing was going to stop him from keeping her.
Nothing!
His feet started moving. The adrenaline rush of going into battle carried him up the stairs at a pace that brooked no opposition. He was going to smash any barriers Sunny put up. He would hold her to him, no matter what! His whole body bristled with the ferocity of his feeling. He strode into their bedroom, intent on fighting with everything he could fight with, his heart thundering with the need to win.
One look at Sunny and his intent was instantly blown to pieces. She was scrunched up on the bed, her back turned to him, a back that was heaving with sobs, muffled by the pillow her face was pushed into. She was hugging another pillow for comfort. She’d kicked off her shoes and there was something terribly vulnerable about her stockinged feet, tucked up and rubbing against each other as though they were cold.
It struck him forcefully that this was grief. Heartbreaking grief. Was it possible that she didn’t want their marriage to end any more than he did? Maybe she just couldn’t see over the hump of not having a child. He couldn’t say it didn’t matter because it did to her. She wanted to be a mother. But if she couldn’t be, he was still her husband and she was still his wife and he had to show her that what they had together was still worth having.
Quietly he took off his suitcoat and tie and dropped them on a chair, freeing himself of constriction. He moved over to the bed, resting one knee on the side of it to get his balance right, then slid his arms under Sunny, scooping her up against his chest, then swinging around to sit and cradle her on his lap.
‘Bryce…’ she choked out shakily.
‘Hush now,’ he soothed, pressing her head onto his shoulder and stroking her hair, trying to impart warmth and comfort. ‘I want to hold you. I need to hold you, Sunny.’
She shuddered and sagged limply into the cocoon of his embrace, her strength all spent in trying to play straight with him. He simply held her for a while, stroking away the little tremors that shook her, thinking of all she meant to him.
He loved the rare integrity of her heart and mind—her whole character—the way she threw all of herself into whatever she took on, her openness and her honesty. He loved her innate decency, her caring, her sharing. He loved the feel of her, the scent of her, the wonderful sexuality of her. She was his wife.
‘I want you to listen to me, Sunny,’ he appealed softly. ‘Just hear me out…’
She simply didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. It was easier to let his words float over her because they couldn’t really mean anything. It felt bittersweet being held like this, kindly, protectively, but for a little while she wanted to wallow in the sense of closeness, of Bryce caring for her.
‘I know you want to be a mother,’ he started slowly. ‘I think you should go and have a fertility test next week so you’ll know beyond any doubt if motherhood is on the cards for you. This fear you have…you’re letting it eat you up, Sunny, letting it take over as though you’re not worth anything if you can’t have a baby. And that’s not true.’
He wasn’t getting it right, she thought wearily. It wasn’t the end of the world for her if she had to be childless, but it would be the end of her world with him. Why was he holding off from seeing that?
‘You’re worth a great deal to me,’ he continued gruffly. ‘You’ve given me more than I ever imagined any one person could give another. You’ve shown me…what a woman in a man’s life can mean to him…in so many ways…and on so many levels…’
His voice seemed to throb into her mind, his words like slow, deep heartbeats, pulsing with the very essence of his life. She was stirred out of the apathy she had fallen into. Her ears prickled with the need to listen, to hear every shade of what he was saying.
His chest rose and fell as he gathered more of his thoughts. ‘My father…’
A sick tension gripped Sunny again at the mention of Will Templar.
‘My father…is my father.’
He spoke as if searching for a truth he needed to communicate. She found herself holding her breath, listening with every atom of energy she had.
‘He’s been the only real constant in my life…all my life. And I do feel…an undeniable bond with him. He’s my father…’
And they were very alike, very much father and son…a bond that would never be broken, she thought, and one she couldn’t fight.
‘But you’re my wife, Sunny…and I love you. I love you as I’ve never loved any other person.’
He loved her?
‘I didn’t know what love was…how it could be…’
He swept his mouth over her hair, pressing warm, lingering kisses as though wanting, needing to imprint his feeling on her, and Sunny started tingling with the sweet joy of it, unable to cling to any fearful caution.
‘But I do now with you,’ he went on fervently. ‘And I don’t want to lose it. Ever…’
She didn’t, either.
‘If we can’t have a child…believe me, Sunny…I don’t want a child with any other woman. You are more important to me than any child could ever be. Having you sharing my life…that comes first. I promise you…it will always come first.’
She was swamped