A Hard Man to Love

Derrick went back and forth internally about how much to share. Heart-to-heart conversations were not his forte. “You’ll find out soon enough anyway.”

“Find out what?”

“Why I married her.”

“Well, why?”

In a flat voice, he said, “She’s pregnant.”

Roarke digested the news in silence. “That’s the only reason?”

“What other reason would there be? We’re not like you and Celeste.” He waited before adding, “We’re having a girl.”

“Congratulations.” Quiet. The band stopped playing, and the couples meandered off the dance floor. “I was thinking, you didn’t have to marry her. You could have moved her up here to have them close.”

“I could have, but I chose to do it this way. I want my daughter near me at all times.”

They fell silent again. Of course, he should have known Roarke wasn’t finished. He must have been mulling over the situation for a long time, his astute brain in analysis mode to make sense of what had happened—how Derrick had gone from single to married in a matter of weeks, without warning.

“Seems like a pretty drastic step to take just to have your kid. You’re telling me you had no other alternative? I admit I don’t know her well, but from what I’ve seen so far, Eva doesn’t seem like the kind who would have kept you from your child.”

Derrick tossed back the last of the champagne and set the flute on the bar with unwarranted force. He didn’t answer to anyone, and he wasn’t in the mood to explain himself to Roarke. He rose from the stool.

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Roarke cast a speculative look up at him. “No, I guess not. Except . . . I was thinking—”

“Stop thinking.” He’d grown weary of this conversation real fast.

“If you hadn’t married her, you would still be free.”

If he hadn’t married her, so would she.

Free to do whatever she wanted, with whomever she wanted. He could have set them up in a house, but the thought of other men coming there, sleeping there, weaseling their way into his daughter’s life didn’t appeal. If his daughter was going to love any man in her life, it would be him, not some random man Eva picked to be her stepfather. He wanted to be there for every moment, from the time she was born. He couldn’t stomach the thought of her growing attached to another man or calling someone else “Daddy.”

“Freedom is a small price to pay to have my daughter with me at all times.”

Roarke fell silent again, but not for long. “What happened between your mother and our father happened years ago. I hope you’re not going to make Eva pay for what they did. She seems like a nice person.”

“The nice ones are the ones you have to watch.” He took note of Roarke’s frown. “Don’t worry, big brother,” he said, even though only three months separated them. “I’ve learned from the mistakes my parents made so I won’t repeat them.”

He glanced at the Panerai watch on his wrist, wondering about Eva’s present location. She’d excused herself fifteen minutes ago and hadn’t reappeared. As the thought crossed his mind, he saw her in the doorway.

She looked over at him, and he clenched his jaw to constrain the reaction he had to her. Every time he saw her, he had the same uncurbed reflexive response, like one of Pavlov’s dogs. His body hardened, his senses heightened, and he damn near salivated.