didn’t take Evan long to find her master bedroom, the cottagelike home had airy open rooms. He carried her in and set her carefully onto a king-size bed. “Laney,” he said, tapping her cheek. “Laney, wake up.”
Her eyes fluttered opened. She stared at him. “What h-happened?”
“You fainted,” he said. “You’ll be fine in a second.”
“I’m okay,” she said, her eyes growing wide as she tried to lift up from the bed. “You don’t have to stay.”
He grabbed her shoulders and gently set her back down. “Stay put. You’re in no shape to get up yet. I’ll be right back.”
Evan entered her master bath and grabbed a face towel off the towel rack. He rinsed it under the faucet with cold water and squeezed out the excess. As he turned off the faucet and exited the bathroom, something he’d glimpsed struck him as odd. Quickly, he retraced his steps and glanced down into the wastebasket beside the marble sink.
The box lay at the bottom of the trash, its initials angled up toward him, leaving no room for doubt.
e.p.t.
A home pregnancy test.
Evan stared at the box a good long moment.
And then it all made sense.
Laney was pregnant.
The last few times he’d seen her, she’d appeared pale, sort of washed out, so unlike the healthy tanned Laney he’d known in Hawaii. He’d known her body intimately and noticed she’d lost some weight, as well. Hadn’t he heard the account of his own mother’s pregnancy enough times to recognize it when the symptoms stared him right smack in the face?
How could he have missed those signs?
Laney passed it off as stress. He’d known it was something more. But he wouldn’t have guessed it was that much more. A child. Evan could hardly believe it. If she hadn’t fainted, he might not have found out. Damn it. He had a right to know. When the hell did she plan on telling him?
Anger boiled just below the surface.
Laney’s eyes were closed when he entered her bedroom again and sat on the bed. He set the cool moistened towel across her forehead.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “That feels good.”
Evan noted the serene look on her face, then he glanced around the room filled with girlie things, lace and frills and walls tinted with deep rose-colored shades. On those rose-colored walls, were framed photographs, black and whites, color prints and sepias. She’d surrounded herself with what she loved. Her photographs told her story better than anything else. Her father hadn’t recognized her talent. He hadn’t known the true Elena Royal.
He stared at the one photo he recognized, a view of the Pacific from atop the Haleakala Crater and memories flooded in, banking his rising fury. “When were you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
He sucked in a breath. “About the baby.”
Her eyes popped open. Reflexively, her hand braced her abdomen. That gesture spelled it out better than a dozen pregnancy tests.
With a panicked look on her face, she tried getting up again, but he blocked her and shook his head. “You are pregnant, aren’t you, Laney?”
Fear, regret and defeat all registered on her face. She laid her head on the pillow, then nodded.
“How…pregnant?” he asked tersely.
Laney had to know what he was asking. Was he the father? After all, she’d been engaged and ready to be married right before he’d met her.
“Seven weeks.”
He did the math. She’d been with him exactly seven weeks ago on that island.
“Are you sure?”
“The doctor confirmed it.”
“When? How long have you known?”
“I saw him yesterday morning.”
Evan’s jaw clenched. He ran his hands through his hair and sucked in oxygen, then bolted from the bed and paced back and forth to release excess energy. Adrenaline pumped through his veins like raging wildfire. “You’ve seen me twice since then and didn’t tell me?”
Laney sat upright on the bed and rubbed her head. “I was trying to adjust to the idea.”
“Damn it. It’s not an idea. It’s a baby.”
She remained seated, probably fearful of rising and fainting again. That was just fine with him. He needed to hash this out with her. Fainting wasn’t an option.
“I meant you, Evan. I needed to adjust to you being the father.”
Evan let go a string of curses.
Laney stood. He watched her legs wobble a little, but she held her ground. He was red-hot and ticked off. Yet, at the same time concerned for the baby.
His baby.
“Sit down, Laney. Let’s talk about this.”
“I’m not ready to talk about it.”
“Sit.” He pointed to the bed. “I’ll do all the talking.”
“Imagine that,” she muttered, but she sat anyway.
“I’m marrying you. As soon as I can make the arrangements, we’ll have a small ceremony and—”
“Whoa!” Laney put up a stopping hand. “Are you crazy? I will not marry you.”
Evan scoffed at her refusal. “It’s not negotiable.”
“It’s not negotiable?” A hot gleam of anger crossed her features. “Okay, I lied. It’s not your baby. It’s Joe the bartender’s. Remember him?”
Evan braced his hands on his hips. “Sure do. Good old married Joe. His wife, Tessie, waited tables at the Wind Breeze and never let him out of her sight. Nice try.”
Laney rolled her eyes.
“Don’t deny it, Laney. The baby is mine.” Evan was sure of it now. If it weren’t she wouldn’t have had such a panicked look on her face when he discovered the truth. At least, she’d been honest about the time frame. They’d spent a lot of time in and out of bed those days. Evan would bank his last dollar that she hadn’t been with another man while on the island. She wouldn’t have admitted to him that he was the father otherwise. After all, he knew she thought of him as the enemy, the man responsible for all of her current problems. “And you will marry me.”
Laney frowned, her eyes narrowing. “You’d do anything to get your hands on The Royals, wouldn’t you?”
“If you remember, your hands were on me—all over me, babe, at least half a dozen times. So don’t go pointing fingers. We’re both responsible for this.”
“I’m willing to take full responsibility.” She cast him a dry look. “You’re off the hook.”
“Hell would have to freeze over first. And you know damn well this isn’t about the hotels, Laney. You’re carrying my child. My flesh and blood. I’m giving that child a name. And making damn sure you take care of yourself while you carry him to term.”
“Don’t even suggest I’m not taking care of this child!”
“Prove it. Marry me.”
“My answer is no.” She folded her arms across her middle, shook her head and stared at him.
He stared back. If she wanted a contest of wills, she’d get one. “Let me put it this way. My child will have my name and my protection. If you don’t accept this proposal, I can guarantee your hotels will fail and it won’t