A Pregnancy Scandal (4 page)

“Hi,” he greeted her inanely after a long moment of silence.

She'd stolen his ability to think simply by walking into the room. That was not supposed to happen. He'd expressly promised things wouldn't be weird between them once he knew what she looked like under that formfitting T-shirt...and he was making it weird.

“Hi,” she repeated and shifted uncomfortably. “Thanks for seeing me on short notice. I'm sorry to barge in here without calling first.”

“I'm glad.” He smiled, feeling a bit more on even ground. “I'm happy to see you.”

“You might not feel that way in a minute.”

Her eyes shone with unexpected moisture and he lost his place again. This wasn't a social visit, obviously. “Is something wrong?”

“Maybe.” She hesitated, biting her lip in that way that said she didn't know what to say next. “You didn't ever issue that dinner invitation.”

Not here to talk business, then. The uncertainty glinting in her eyes put a cramp in his stomach.

“I'm sorry,” he said sincerely and cursed himself for being such an ass. “I could give you a bunch of excuses, but none of them would be the truth. I didn't think it was fair to you to continue our relationship. So I didn't.”

But he'd dreamed of things happening differently. A lot. If only he could take her in his arms and kiss her hello, like he wanted to.

“Because you got what you were after and now you're done?” she whispered.

The simple question whacked him between the eyes. He'd hurt her feelings with his stupid rules and the loneliness that had caused him to act selfishly.

“That's not it at all.” True, and yet nowhere near the whole truth. He
was
done, but not for the reasons she seemed to think. He sighed. “I like you a lot, Alex, but I'm not sure we're meant to continue our affair. It's complicated. And not your fault. I wish things could be different. And not so complicated.”

She choked out a laugh that sounded a bit like a sob. “Yeah, I wish that, too. Unfortunately, things are far more complicated than you could ever dream.”

“What—”

“I'm pregnant.”

His expression froze into place, a practiced mechanism to keep his audience from guessing his thoughts before he was ready to share them.

Pregnant.

The simple word bled through his mind and fractured into pieces as a thousand simultaneous thoughts vied for attention.
Pregnant.
It echoed, tearing through his heart painfully. The obvious question—whether she thought he was the father—clearly didn't need to be asked. She wouldn't be here otherwise.

Now would be a good time to say something. “That's an unexpected development.”

Because he needed to do something with his hands, he pushed the intercom button. “Linda, can you bring Ms. Meer a bottle of water?”

Then he rounded the three-hundred-year-old desk that had been his grandfather's, gifted to Phillip when his grandfather retired, and hustled Alex to the couch where he sometimes slept when he couldn't face his lonely condo on 2nd Street. “Please. Sit down.”

She complied, sinking to the couch as if her bones couldn't hold her upright any longer. He knew the feeling. Linda hurried in with the water and handed it to Alex with a friendly nod and then disappeared, as a good admin should.

“I'm sorry to blurt it out like that,” Alex said solemnly and drank the water. “I don't phrase things well under the best circumstances and I'm still kind of in shock.”

“I would imagine so.” Blearily, he scrubbed his face with his hands and breathed deeply. For fortitude. It didn't help. “How do you feel? Okay? Do you need a paper bag? I'll get you one as long as you share it with me.”

She flashed a brief smile. “Are you having sympathy morning sickness?”

“No, I was thinking about breathing into it.” Because he felt like he might pass out. “It's my baby, right?”

“Yeah.” Her smile disappeared. “I'm not all that good at luring men into bed. Look how long it took for me to get you there. But we can do a paternity test while I'm here, if you want.”

The sooner, the better. He trusted Alex, but he couldn't afford mistakes.

This could
not
be happening. Phillip had lived his life carefully for nearly two decades. Even as a teenager, he'd been mindful that political aspirations could die easily with the wrong decisions, and he'd never had a reason to conceal his actions. While other politicians paid off former mistresses and employed spin doctors to get them out of hot water with the media, Phillip preferred honesty—after all, if you never did anything questionable, you didn't have to cover it up.

This was all his fault. The condoms must have been older than he'd remembered. And now they'd both pay the price.

Pregnant.
Alex was pregnant.

He couldn't repeat it enough times for it to stick in his brain as a fact, like the way he knew the sky was blue without looking at it. Alex was a great person, a businesswoman he was helping navigate the bureaucracy of the FDA approval process. Thinking of her like that was easy. She was also a sexy woman whose company he'd enjoyed at a party a few weeks ago.

And now she had a third designation: the mother of his child.

It changed everything.

They had to get married. His heart squeezed painfully once, and he shut it down ruthlessly. There was so much more to consider here than how he'd always thought he'd have a baby with Gina. So much more to consider than Alex's lack of credentials as the perfect wife to fit his needs.

If he planned to be honest with his constituents, there was no other solution than to surround Alex, his child and his career with the protection of marriage. No man with Phillip's political platform could ascend to the Oval Office with an illegitimate child any sooner than he could as a single man. The press would eat him alive, gleefully portraying his family values as hypocrisy.

Except all he could think about was Alex spread out on his bed, underneath him, as he made love to her. What would it be like to wake up to her in the morning? He couldn't lie to himself any more than he could to his supporters; marrying her meant they could continue that part of their relationship.

The pregnancy meant he could have Alex and keep his emotional commitment to Gina, because of course Alex wouldn't expect him to be in love with her. He could raise his baby with his child's mother. The rest of the complications were a huge compromise, but one he was willing to make for the benefits.

He had no clue whether Alex would marry him under those conditions, but he had to try to convince her.

She cleared her throat. “We need to talk about next steps.”

“Agreed.” His mind raced through his calendar, rearranging appointments and projects. He could carve out time for the flurry of activity that was about to become both their realities. He had to. “My mother will want to plan a huge splashy ceremony, but I can probably talk her off the ledge if you'd rather have something a bit simpler.”

His parents would be thrilled he'd finally moved on. His mom had bemoaned never having grandkids twice a week for over a year, and at least this development would make her happy.

She stared at him. “Your mother will want to have a ceremony to announce the pregnancy? Don't take this the wrong way, but that's very strange.”

Flubbed that up, moron.

When he'd asked Gina to marry him he'd gone the distance with a surprise trip to Venice, a hired violinist and a ten-carat diamond that had once belonged to a Vanderbilt. But he'd had considerably longer than ten minutes to plan it and a huge gaping hole in his life that only Gina could fill.

Yet he was about to start a family with Alex instead. Yes, he liked her, but the biggest decision he'd thought he had in relation to her was whether he'd break his promise to himself about not calling her. It was numbing how quickly everything had turned on its head.

This woman was going to be his wife if he had anything to say about it. He needed to start acting like it.

“I'm sorry. Let's back up.” He took her hand and held it, though why he thought that small bit of contact would help, he couldn't say. “Alex, we have to get married.”

And that wasn't much better as proposals went.

Her face went white and she snatched her hand away from his as if he'd scalded her. “Married? Why would we get married? That's insane. We don't know each other.”

The note of desperation in her voice didn't sit well. “We don't know each other well enough to be parents either, but facts are facts. As the baby's father, I want to consider what's best for him or her. Unless the paternity-test results might offer another reason for your denial?”

Something broke open inside him as he thought about Alex with another man. Irrational, to be sure, especially since he was the one who hadn't called. He didn't own her.

But he had never stopped thinking about her, or her sweet fire as they'd connected—her skin, her eyes, all of it. He wouldn't apologize for having a strong attraction to a woman who'd just announced she was carrying his child, nor for the fact that marriage meant he was the only one allowed the privilege of sleeping with her. Fidelity was as much a part of his makeup as statesmanship. There was no denying that she still affected him, and if they were living together, it was a natural conclusion that they'd continue their physical relationship. He certainly wanted to.

“No, of course not,” she said. “This is your baby.”

In DC, the first thing you learned was how to tell if someone was lying. She wasn't. Regardless, he needed to make sure. The test could be done relatively quickly and would only confirm what he already knew in his gut.

“Here's what we're going to do.” The plan rolled through his head. “I'll clear my schedule for the day and we'll get the test. Then will you agree to talk about what comes next?”

Hesitating, she blinked and met his gaze, vulnerability and fear in her expression. It prompted him to fix whatever was wrong so she'd smile again. He ached to take her into his arms. For comfort, not to kiss her, though he'd have sworn a minute ago that sparks were the only thing between them.

Even that was too much.

The way Alex affected him clashed with the place inside that belonged to his first wife. That unsettled him nearly as much as the idea of Alex being pregnant. But if he wanted to have a family—and he did—not only would he have to convince Alex marriage was the best option, he would have to convince himself to stay strong against the tide of emotions she elicited.

No second chances in life or love. That meant he would never have feelings for another woman. This compromise might be harder than he'd envisioned.

“Okay,” she said, her voice low. “We can talk. But you'll have to rethink the idea of marriage. I'm not a member of the cult of love and romance.”

She wasn't? He stared at her as his argument for marriage shifted gears and fell into place.

Four

T
he results of the paternity test didn't take long. With Phillip's connections, he had paperwork in his hand before lunch proving the baby Alex carried was 100 percent his.

Like she'd told him. It stung a little to hear him question her, as if Alex might have tried to pass off another man's baby as his. Who
did
something like that?

Okay, it stung a lot. But she tried not to fume about it as Phillip's driver navigated the enormous limousine through Washington, DC, traffic. Her baby's father sat next to her on the long bench seat, still clutching the results from the private physician's office they'd visited to perform the test.

“Are you hungry?” Phillip asked, his tone polite but distant, as it had been since the moment she'd uttered the word
pregnant
.

She secretly called it his Senator Mask, and she'd noted he pulled it on when the circumstances dictated he be tolerant and friendly without inviting too much familiarity. He'd put on the mask in meetings and at the party a couple of times but always toward others. She'd never thought he'd direct it at her.

“I don't think I could eat, no,” she murmured. Her stomach wasn't in any condition to accept food and not just because of the morning sickness that should be renamed
24/7 sickness
. “But if you want to find a quiet restaurant where we can talk, you're welcome to eat. I wouldn't mind a cup of hot tea.”

It was time to make some decisions. Unfortunately, she feared neither of them liked the choices all that well. And she had a feeling the subject of marriage was about to come up again.

Alex and Phillip were not getting married under any circumstances. Marriage was for other people, foolish people who believed love could last forever. Who believed in happily-ever-after. There was nothing he could say to convince her. Besides, marriage didn't make any sense.

“Maybe we should drive around. This car is about as private as it gets.” Flashing her a distracted smile, Phillip hit the intercom to speak to the driver. “Randy, would you mind stopping at the next Starbucks and purchasing Ms. Meer a cup of hot tea?”

Something squished in her chest. The man never missed a trick. Alex found herself returning his smile even though his wasn't the genuine one she preferred. How was it possible that pregnancy could drive such a wedge between them? They were still the same people as the night of the party. They'd shared jokes and laughed, and he'd looked at her like she was the only person in the room he cared about.

Since that type of attention had got her in this situation, maybe it was better that he wasn't flirting with her. She missed it, though.

Phillip's driver whipped into a parking lot, and with the efficiency she'd come to expect from Phillip's staff, he handed her a white to-go cup before she'd barely registered that he'd stopped. She nodded her thanks.

Hot tea in hand, she stared out the window at the bustling city her baby's father called home for much of the year. Might as well jump right into it. “Before you start talking about marriage again, just know that I can't even consider it. Marriage doesn't work under the best of circumstances, let alone the worst.”

He contemplated her as he pulled a water bottle from a hidden compartment on his left side. Did the lavishness at Phillip's disposal ever end? Alex made a healthy salary, but she rarely spent money on more than necessities. Phillip came from old oil money and his wealth far eclipsed hers. The imbalance had never seemed all that important before, but in the face of making decisions about things like custody, lifestyles, nannies and public schools versus private, the gulf between them widened.

“As long as we're sharing philosophies,” Phillip said, “let me tell you something about mine.”

He wasn't looking at the traffic. His focus was solely on her and it tripped her pulse.

“Sure.”

“I can't remember a time when I wasn't aware that my family had something unique about it. Adults in my world discussed important issues at the dinner table. We went to rallies and talked to farmers, industrial workers, bankers and moms during cross-country trips. I was fascinated by the activity. I learned more about the daily life and burdens of the average American before the age of ten than most people are probably ever aware of.”

“You were born into a political dynasty, Phillip,” she interjected in the pause. “I get that.”

He nodded. “You met my father, the congressman. My grandfather was a senator and so was my uncle. It's in our blood to care about making things better for our country.”

Oddly enough, the more Phillip talked about his job, the more quickly his Senator Mask faded. It was a little breathtaking to watch him morph back into the man who had so charmed her from their first meeting and nearly every second since then.

She didn't dare interrupt. This was the Phillip she'd dreamed about. The one she'd gladly donned makeup and a dress to get closer to. Her pregnancy didn't erase his magnetic appeal in the slightest.

“So now I'm going to have a son or daughter,” he continued. “I always envisioned my kids having a similar childhood to the one that solidified my path.”

That implied he planned to have more kids. That sounded nice—for
him
—but she wasn't concerned about children that didn't exist yet. Only the one that did. “I'm sorry, but—”

“Wait.” He shushed her gently. “I'm getting to the important part. I married Gina with my heart and eyes wide-open. We were going to have that life I just described and then she was gone. It was a single-car accident and no one could say for sure what had happened other than a telephone pole in the wrong place. The devastation... I can't go through that again. So I'm not a fan of marriage, either. At least not the kind of marriage I had with her.”

“There's another kind?” Alex blurted out before she thought better of it.

She'd been caught up in watching his face as he talked about his first wife. The emotions were heartbreaking. What would it be like to be married to a man who loved you that much? Up until this moment, she hadn't realized it was possible to love someone so much that even the distance of two years wouldn't fully dull the pain of losing them.

Obviously Phillip was the exception to the rule that love didn't last.

“There are all kinds of marriages,” Phillip said. “That's why you can't say for sure that no marriages work.”

Was that where he was going with this? “Sure I can. I didn't have a fairy-tale childhood like yours. I lived through a really bad divorce and it doesn't matter what kind of marriage my parents had because the ultimate result was that it ended. Just like yours did. That's why marriages don't work, because when they end, people get hurt. That's why a marriage between
us
wouldn't work.”

“Not if we do it differently,” he suggested calmly, despite her rising agitation. “Hear me out.”

Genuine curiosity got the better of her. If he'd spouted romantic poetry or autocratic demands, she'd order him to stop the car. But logic? The man couldn't have picked a better way to get her attention. “Okay. I'll bite. What kind of marriage could we possibly have that would work, Phillip?”

“One based on partnership. We're about to become parents. I'd like to raise our child together, without shuttling him or her between us. I want us to be on the same page about things like discipline. I want to celebrate holidays together. Share milestones. I think that's best accomplished by being a unit.”

His deep voice slid along her skin as he wove a picture with words. A picture that dug into the core of her hurt and disappointment about her parents' divorce and promised that her child wouldn't have to endure what she had.

It was fool's gold, though. All the things he talked about depended on their commitment to each other never dying. It depended on no one changing their mind at some point down the road and ripping out the heart of the family that they'd built.

“But we don't have to be married to make parenting decisions together,” she said. “And if we're not married, we never have to go through a divorce.”

No marriage meant no one got hurt. No child of hers would ever have to be the product of a broken home.

But the line she'd just drawn might also mean her child wouldn't get to know his or her father, not like she'd envisioned. She couldn't have it both ways.

If she and Phillip didn't live in the same house, how would Christmas morning work? They'd have to split custody and explain that Santa came to two houses for some children. But she would always feel that something wasn't quite right. And the arrangements might mean that some years, she wouldn't even have her child with her on Christmas morning. Or a random Tuesday when her child took his or her first steps. The first day of school, learning to ride a bike—the list went on and on.

There were thousands of things she might miss if she and Phillip set up a custody agreement. Things he would miss. The baby was half his, no matter what, and she wanted her baby to have a father. A
present
father, not one that swooped in on weekends.

Panic fluttered her pulse. How in the world had she got here?

“Or...” He reached out then and captured her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “We have a marriage with no expectations other than divorce isn't an option.”

No expectations.

It was an intentional echo of their singular night together, when passion had been the only thing that mattered.

Her gaze flew to his, caught and held. His blue eyes were mesmerizing as he tilted his head slightly and let that smile she loved spill over his face. Breath tangled in her lungs as he brushed her thumb with his.

“Tell me what a marriage with no expectations looks like,” she murmured because her throat had gone completely dry.

“It means we take love out of the equation. That's what causes all the hurt. The loss of it is what drives people to end things. If we start out as friends and partners with no expectations of anything more, we can have the kind of marriage that lasts. Then divorce doesn't even come up.”

The logic flowed over Alex like a balm. She'd never understood the hoopla over moonlight and candles, but Phillip had figured out how to romance her with reason. It was extremely affecting.

“I like you,” Phillip continued, his smile deepening. “And I think you like me. We're obviously a match in the bedroom, which not even couples in love can always say. If we establish some ground rules from the beginning, no one gets hurt. We're just two people raising a child and living our lives together.”

Rules for marriage. How...safe. And clear. She did like rules.

Never in a million years had she imagined he'd find a way to get her to consider this insane idea. But here she was...thinking about matrimony. His point made a brilliant sort of sense. Her baby would have a father. She'd never have to miss a thing.

Somehow, she'd found a man who didn't have one single emotional demand. She'd have someone by her side to help raise the baby, and they'd have a deal up front to stay together. No one was making any promises they couldn't keep.

“So no expectations.” She rolled it around in her head. “You don't care if we never fall in love? Because I don't even know if I have that capacity. Nor the desire.”

Since she'd never even come close to feeling giggly and romantic about a man, she'd always assumed she didn't have the right temperament for it.

He was quiet for a moment. “It's not that I don't care. It's that I don't want to be in love with anyone other than Gina. Most women wouldn't put up with that in a marriage. Fortunately for me, you're not most women.”

It should have been the final argument that won her over. She'd never have to question whether love would become a factor in their relationship because his heart wasn't available. But something wasn't adding up here.

“Just out of curiosity, why marriage, then? Why don't we just live together?”

“Simple.” He shrugged. “I don't want to. It serves many purposes to marry you. I'm a senator. Marriage is something my constituents would expect. I believe in family values, which will be a central part of my platform when I run for president.”

“President? Of the United States?” Her voice might have gone up a full octave but she couldn't tell for sure around the sudden rush of blood from her head. “When were you going to tell me that part?”

She couldn't be the First Lady. She didn't have the flair for it. Or the ability to talk to the press. She'd rather eat bugs than have that kind of attention dogging her for the rest of her life.

“I'm telling you now,” he said calmly and squeezed her hand. “Because that's an important part of this discussion. I'm running for president within the next few years and it would greatly benefit my campaign if I was married. My child is going to be in the spotlight no matter what. My child's mother is going to be a subject of interest. If you'd like to weather that on your own, I can't decide that for you. But marriage affords you a measure of protection, especially as I'm campaigning and definitely if I win.”

More logic. And it made a certain sort of sense. Enough to deepen her panic. “I can't be a politician's wife! I can barely talk to you, let alone the press.”

There would be no hiding behind a statue for the rest of her life if she married Phillip. Her stomach turned over as the limo made another loop around the Washington Monument.

“I have people who can help with that, Alex. Stylists. Speech writers.” He cupped her chin, and his fingers on her face soothed her as she stared at his earnest expression. “I like you the way you are, but if it would make you more comfortable to have more polish as you stand by my side at a press conference, okay. I'll help you with that.”