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His eyes softened. “How can you be so hopeful?” he asked. “I fought it as long as I could, but the second she threatened you, I had no choice but to give up. And then you… you’re so brave, so fearless. How can you just step up and fight my battles without even blinking?”

I bit my lip. I hadn’t intended to tell him about the baby yet. I’d thought it would only add more heat to an already overexpanded pressure cooker, but he was struggling to find something worth fighting for. He was ready to just roll over and give the mayor whatever she wanted in order to keep us all safe. “I have to be hopeful, because otherwise, what kind of world am I bringing our child into?” I held my breath as he took in my words.

Emerson seemed confused for a second, frowning. “Our child… but…”

I waited for him to connect the dots. As his eyes got rounder, eyebrows taking a hike up his forehead, he gasped. “There it is,” I said, smiling shakily. “Yes, I’m pregnant.”

“But we only… once, and that’s…” he stuttered.

“Don’t you remember from health class?” I said lightly, tugging on his tie. “Once is enough.”

His eyes hardened with determination. “Once with you will never be enough.”

Emerson stalked forward, forcing me to backtrack. I would’ve stumbled moving backward at this pace, but his arm around my waist held me upright. “Where are we going?”

“Back to that supply closet, obviously. Back to where this all began,” he said darkly, his growing erection pressing into me with each step.

Trusting him to guide us, I focused on loosening his tie, getting a head start on getting naked. “If we’re being honest, I think we can both admit that it began long before that kiss.”

“Since the very beginning.” He reached behind me and wrenched open the door. “And I have years’ worth of pent-up sexual repression to unleash on you.”

Stumbling through the door, I nearly tripped over a box as he slammed the door shut, enclosing us in shadows. “One of these days, we’re going to make it to a bed, right?” I asked, shoving his jacket off. I started working at his shirt buttons, before deciding his pants were more important.

He groaned, long and low. “I can’t wait to see you spread out on my bed for me, so I can finally take my time with you.” Gripping my hair in his fist, he paused in his frantic undressing. I looked up to see what was the matter and found him staring down at me in awe. “A baby…”

This wasn’t the first time I’d felt a glimmer of uncertainty. “You want the baby, right? You don’t regret that it happened?”

“Never,” he said reverently, peppering me with soft kisses. “My only regret is that I can’t get you pregnant again.”

“Yet,” I said without thinking. But once the word was out, it was like the future spread out in front of me, and I could see it clear as day. A future where Emerson and I were married, a whole brood of children filling our house. It felt… inevitable.

I watched Emerson’s smile spread, his eyes distant, as if he too were seeing that future. “Yet,” he repeated, before we resumed the shedding of clothes.

18

Emerson

The lounge felt like it was closing in on me, suffocating me, with its sound-muffling velvet and close quarters. It was too early in the day to justify alcohol, but I could really use a stiff drink. I couldn’t breathe. My father watched me, frowning, as I hooked a finger under the knot in my tie and yanked, whipping off the strip of silk and shoving it into my pocket in a messy ball. Then I reached back up and undid the top two buttons, but it didn’t do much to help me fill my lungs with air.

Roland was waiting for me back in my office, and I wanted nothing more than to bypass this entire meeting and fall into his arms. Just thinking about him had my throat loosening, and I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath. We were almost free.

“You’re not looking so good, Son,” my father remarked with a raised eyebrow.

I glared at him. “Are you surprised? The past couple months I’ve been jerked back and forth between obligation and desperation. A forced marriage really does a number on a man.” Although, I hoped that was all about to change.

I gave him a hard smile, and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, well… Is that why you asked me here this evening? Is this about the wedding?”

Laughing darkly, I said, “Only if you want to talk about how I refuse to be bullied into that farce.”

He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing me. “What are you up to, Emerson?”

“You’re going to sell The Scarlet Hotel,” I told him point blank.

He cocked his head and reached for his drink. “I think we’ve already established that. As soon as you sign the paperwork, the hotel is yours.”

“No. Plans have changed.” I pulled out the contract I had drawn up earlier today and passed it across the table. “I don’t want your hotel.”

My father frowned in confusion. “But you just said—”

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