gaze slipped back down to César, peaceful and unaware of the tension between his parents. She knew that Jean-Pierre was right. They had to find some way to raise their child together even though there would be no wedding. No pretend romance to mask the animosity between them.
Maybe, given some time, she could negotiate a peaceful future for her son in the same way she argued court cases. She would find a way to get on top of her runaway pregnancy hormones and the mixed feelings she still had for Jean-Pierre—hurt, resentment, attraction. A potent mix.
“I’ll need a private room,” she said finally, tilting her chin up and laying the groundwork for this very dicey compromise. “I will go with you, but I can’t perform a charade for the media or our families.”
“Meaning you won’t pretend to like the father of your child?” One heavy eyebrow arched as he watched her.
Her heartbeat quickened for no discernible reason. They were drawing boundaries, weren’t they? That was a good thing.
“Meaning there will be no maneuvering each other by implying an engagement or imminent wedding that we both know will not happen.”
“Deal.” His agreement was quick and easy, catching her off guard. He took her hand in his. “You have my word.”
His touch sparked memories of another time they’d been face-to-face like this—arguing heatedly about her court case. He’d touched her to emphasize a point, perhaps. And somewhere in that moment, the chemistry of the contact had shifted, turning heated. Making it impossible to pull their hands off of each other. She felt the weight of that moment now, along with the possibility that it could happen again if she wasn’t careful. It was there, in her fluttering pulse. In her rapid breathing.
She hovered there, on that razor’s edge between tension and attraction, understanding too late how easy it would be to slide into that dangerous terrain.
“Sleep well then.” He lifted her hand to his lips. Brushed a brief kiss along the backs of her fingers as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’ll pick you up in the morning so we can speak to your father together. And make no mistake, I will be there by your side.”
She nodded, her mouth dry, her skin tingling where he’d kissed her. She watched Jean-Pierre turn to leave and show himself out, her emotions tangled, knotted and taut. She had thought telling him about their child would be the most difficult thing she’d ever have to do. But now, feeling the way her body still responded to him, she knew that resisting the lure of a Reynaud man would be a challenge beyond anything she’d imagined.
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