heard the pain, the anguish, the accusation. On one level she understood them. But she remembered pain and anguish of her own.
“Why the hell should I?” she countered, stung by his fury. “You didn’t want a child. You said so! I babbled about marriage and family and you were quite clear. No marriage. No family! Why should I have told you?”
“That was before I knew I had one! How could I say I didn’t want my son when I didn’t even know he existed?”
“You didn’t want him to exist!”
His nostrils flared and his jaw clamped shut. He balled his fingers into fists, as if he were trying to control what he did with them. Like strangle her. “You kept my son from me!”
“I took you at your word!”
“Damn it!” Alex let out a harsh breath. He glared at her, then raked his fingers through his hair and paced the room. At the far end, he whirled around. “You knew how I felt about my brother!”
Yes, she had known. She knew that Vassilios had been the favorite son, the star, the heir. She knew that everyone had loved him. Even Alex. Especially Alex. Vassilios had been bright, funny, caring, social. Everything, Alex had told Daisy five years ago, that he himself was not.
But Vass had been so wonderful that Alex hadn’t envied him. He’d only wanted to be like him. He had loved his brother deeply. Vassilios’s death had irrevocably changed his life.
She had known that losing his brother was the main reason Alex never wanted children. It was the reason Alex had originally never wanted to marry. He didn’t want to love, he’d told her. Love hurt.
Dear God, she could agree with that. She’d hurt more in the aftermath of his leaving and her discovering she was having his child than she could ever have imagined. She’d loved him—and lost him—and for nearly five years now had Charlie to remind her of that loss.
But she couldn’t regret it. She couldn’t even regret marrying Cal. At least they’d had some sort of love. They’d tried.
Alex had refused to even try. Not then. Not now. He still wanted a marriage on his terms, a marriage without love. And children had still been a deal breaker. He’d made that clear.
So now she met his accusation squarely and told him the honest truth. “Yes, I knew,” she agreed. “But mostly I knew you didn’t want children. I did what I had to do. I did the best that I could for my son.”
“Really? And you and dear Cal have such a spectacular marriage.” His tone mocked her, infuriated her.
Daisy had to fight her own inclination to look away. Even so she felt her face heat. “Cal is a great father.”
“And I wouldn’t have been?” His challenge was loud and clear. Mostly loud.
“Not if you didn’t love him! And be quiet. You’ll wake him up.”
Alex’s teeth came together with a snap. She could hear his harsh breathing, but he didn’t claim he would love Charlie. How could he? He’d already hardened his heart.
“Why would I think you’d be a good father to a child you didn’t want?” she said. “Cal was. Cal was there when he was born—”
“Because you damned well didn’t tell me!”
“Cal loves him,” she finished quietly.
“And I’ve never had a chance to!”
“You didn’t want one. You’d already made your choice. And when I found out I was pregnant, I had to make choices, too. I chose to do what I thought was best for Charlie. He needed love. He needed parents. A family. You didn’t want that. You said, ‘No entanglements, no hostages of fortune.’”
He had actually used those terms, and when she repeated them now, she saw him wince. “You said love hurt too much. You wanted nothing to do with it.”
They glared at each other. Daisy wrapped her arms across her chest and stared unblinkingly at him. She knew what he had said, and Alex would be lying if he denied it now.
He didn’t deny it. He didn’t say anything at all. His jaw worked. His eyes reflected his inner turmoil. Seconds passed. Daisy could hear Murphy’s toenails clicking down the hallway as he came out from the kitchen to look at them inquiringly.
Alex didn’t notice. He was cracking his knuckles, then kneading the muscles at the back of his neck. He paced the room like an agitated animal trapped in a cage. Finally he flung himself down on the sofa and rubbed his hair until it stuck up all over his head. He dragged his palms down his face and stared at her bleakly over the top of them. “Hell.”
In a word, yes.
It was a hell she was already familiar with. The confusion, the anguish, the damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t choices she had faced when she’d discovered she was pregnant. She remembered the hollowness she’d felt at Alex’s flat-out rejection of any sort of relationship. In the face of her hopes and dreams and—let’s face it—fantasies, he had been crystal clear.
She hadn’t even wanted to imagine what he would have said if she’d turned up on his doorstep and announced she was expecting his child. The very thought had made her blood run cold. Even now she shivered inside the thick robe she was wearing. Tucking her hands inside the opposite sleeves, she chaffed her arms briskly, trying to warm them.
Alex just sat there. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move, except for the rise and fall of his chest. His expression was grim as he stared across the room. He wasn’t looking at her now.
She wondered what he was seeing in his mind’s eye. His dying brother? His unknown son? The parents who had rejected him and each other? His life, as carefully designed as any building he’d ever planned, going down the drain?
She couldn’t imagine. Didn’t want to.
Murphy stood between them, looking from one to the other as if wondering what they were doing in his living room in the middle of the night. Finally, accepting it as dogs always did, he curled up on his bed in front of the fireplace and put his head between his paws.
Alex looked up and met her gaze. “I want my son.”
“Want your …?” Daisy stared at him, breathless, as if he had punched her in the gut. “What does that mean? You can’t take him!” she blurted, anguished. “You don’t have any right!”
“I didn’t say I was going to take him.” Icy green eyes collided with hers. “But I’m not walking away, either.”
Daisy swallowed, tried to think, to fathom what Alex’s “not walking away” meant. For Charlie. For her. She didn’t have a clue.
She only knew what she must not let happen. “You’re not hurting him,” she said fiercely. “I won’t let you.”
Alex rubbed a hand over his hair. His brows drew down. “Why the hell would I want to hurt him?”
Daisy had started to pace, but she stopped and turned to face him. “I didn’t say you would intend to. But it could happen. He’s only four, Alex. He won’t understand. Besides, he has a father.”
Alex’s jaw tightened. “Cal.” He spat her ex-husband’s name. “Did you marry him because of Charlie?”
Daisy ran her tongue over her lips as she tried to decide how to answer it, how to be honest and fair to both Alex and to Cal.
“Did you?” Alex persisted when she didn’t reply.
She sat down in the armchair across from the sofa where he was leaning toward her, his elbows on his knees, his fingers laced. “Yes,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t as simple as that. I didn’t go find the nearest eligible man and ask him to marry me.”
“No?” He mocked her.
Daisy tried not to bristle.