Carlos’s hold on her tightened just in time to keep her from slipping off the counter. “Lilah?”
“What?” she answered simply, unable to scrounge more than the single syllable.
His fingers dug deeper into her hips, giving only a second’s forewarning of his increased intensity before he demanded, “Marry me.”
Eight
The force of his release still pounding through his veins, Carlos wondered how he’d let amazing sex steal his ability to think rationally. He hadn’t meant to blurt out his proposal quite that way. As he’d prepared breakfast, he’d planned for something more…eloquent maybe, after they shared crepes in front of the soaring mountain view.
Feeling Lilah frozen in his arms relayed her shock, but not much else. He searched her face for some hint as to how she felt, but she quickly averted her eyes.
Silently, Lilah inched to the side and back to the floor. She snatched his T-shirt from the butcher block and yanked the white cotton over her head in a swift move. With defiant eyes, she all but dared him to comment on the fact she wore his shirt.
Her bravado waning fast, her hands shook as she pulled free her sex-tousled hair. “Um, we’ve already had sex, more than once I might add. So a proposal for ‘compromising’ me isn’t in order.”
“You didn’t answer.” He zipped and buttoned his jeans, wincing.
Fisting her hands by her side, she finally faced him full-on. “My answer is no.”
Her refusal stung him more than he would have expected. He didn’t want to get married, damn it. “I thought you would be happy. You didn’t even think about my proposal.”
“And you did?” she retorted.
He might be confused about a number of things when it came to this woman, but he could answer this question honestly. “It’s all I thought about.”
“Why did you ask me? And why now of all times?” She padded closer across the tile until she stood toe-to-toe with him. “Is it because I shed a few tears last night? Am I suddenly one of your needy cases to save?”
“I want the child to be mine.” He gripped her shoulders, working to keep the fierceness inside him from escaping. “I want to protect you both. Is that so wrong?”
She shook her head fiercely. “That’s not the same as believing me.”
Why did she have to keep pushing this? He was doing what she must have wanted from the start. What he had to do now. “I’ll take care of you and the baby, claim it as mine, regardless of what the test shows. You and I are alike. We make a logical match.”
“A logical match,” she repeated cynically. “Your single life suited you fine up to now. You’ve said so yourself on more occasions than I can count. In the four years we’ve known each other, you haven’t even hinted—”
Frustration tore at his gut as he tried to find the right words to offer her. “What the hell do you think that night we spent together was about?”
“I don’t know, Carlos.” Her jaw went tight, but she didn’t shed even one of the tears sheening in her eyes. “I do know that the months that followed were about you moving on as if I didn’t exist. Maybe I’m not as logical or practical as you believe, because I couldn’t just rationalize away the time we spent together.”
He should have waited and proposed as he’d planned, in more of a romantic setting. He scrambled for something to say to give her more of the flowers and stars kind of affirmation he should have offered in the first place. “What we experienced rocked me.”
“That’s it? I rocked your world?” Shaking her head, she backed up. “Well, hello, you rocked my world, too. It’s called great sex. Not something particularly logical to build a marriage on.”
Spinning away, she made fast tracks toward the stairs, proving loud and clear how badly he’d messed up.
“Lilah! Lilah, damn it. Let’s talk this out.” He started after her.
His cell phone rang from beside the bowl full of raspberries and memories of tasting Lilah. He reached to thumb the ignore button, only to hesitate when he saw his youngest brother’s number on the caller ID. He had to take the call. Maybe giving Lilah a few minutes to cool down would be a wise idea anyway.
“Antonio?” he said into his phone. “Speak to me and it better be important.”
“It is.” His brother’s voice filled the airwaves. “It’s our father. He’s taken a turn for the worse. The doctors don’t expect him to live through the week if he doesn’t get a liver transplant.”
Leaving Vail far behind, Lilah peered through the airplane window at the dark sky and clouds. From her work at the hospital, she’d seen often enough how a family health crisis derailed any other concerns.
Just when she’d thought her life couldn’t be flipped upside down any further.
Once she’d returned to the kitchen in her clothes, she’d been ready to roll out a speech she prepared, asking him to stop any further marriage proposals or she would leave. The news about his father had changed everything. Carlos had asked her to come with him. How could she say no?
This could be her only chance to meet her child’s grandfather. She could learn important information about Carlos that might help her deal with him in the future.
And there was one completely illogical, emotional reason to stay right by his side. She couldn’t let him face his father’s death alone, especially not when he’d asked for her. Carlos never asked for anything for himself. Ever.
So here she sat, on the plane with him again. This time they were flying through the night sky to some super-secure island off the coast of Florida, which was more information than she’d ever read in the media about the location of his well-protected father. That Carlos would tell her such a closely guarded secret stirred a scary kind of hope inside her. In spite of his unromantic proposal chock-full of “practical” and “logical” reasons to get married, they obviously still shared a respect and trust that they’d possessed once upon a time as friends.
Well, at least as far as either of them seemed capable of trusting, which wasn’t saying much.
Sitting across from her as before, Carlos checked his messages, his face inscrutable. The window beside him displayed the receding U.S. shore as they traveled over a murky view of ocean waters.
Their packing and leaving had been so rushed she’d barely had a chance to process their explosive encounter in the kitchen. The scent of raspberries still clung to her skin even after her hurried shower.