“Adisease? So I don’t do you any good? Let me guess...because I’m a traitor. The woman who sleeps with father and son. Someone who flits between the two. Maybe to prove your point, I should just go back to Asia now? Keep doing my shifts?”

This finally sets me off. I stride over, pinning her against the wall. “You’re not going anywhere. You might be carrying my child.”

She shoves me away. “Don’t act like you’d want that. If I get pregnant, it’ll be a nightmare for both of us.”

“A child is never a mistake.”

“Then how do you describe getting the woman you despise pregnant?”

I step back again. “Destiny, Taylor. It’d be a cruel twist of fate.”

She swallows hard, smoothing her dress back into place. “Take me to the bathroom, please.”

That polite request doesn’t resemble the fiery Taylor of a moment ago, but I chalk it up to the shock and fear over a possible pregnancy.

“Taylor.”

“Take me to the bathroom, Mr. Marshall. I just want to do my ‘duty’ and leave.”

“You know perfectly well that if you’re pregnant, that’s not an option. You’ll never leave.”

“Show me the bathroom, William.”

* * *

She took nearly twenty minutes before coming back. After sitting at the table with me, she barely touched her food or the champagne she’d requested. Her eyes are glued to her plate, and though I usually welcome silence, right now it irritates me.

“We need to talk.”

“Did you do it on purpose?”

“Are you seriously asking if I came inside you on purpose? You’d be the last woman I’d choose to bear my child.”

I watch her hand tremble as she lifts her glass to her lips. The Taylor of the past might have thrown it at me, and seeing how she’s changed confuses me.

Am I the only one still stuck in the past?

“Then let’s pray it’s just a scare, Mr. Marshall.”

“Either way, until we know for sure, I’ll treat you as if you were mine.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll have a driver for work.”

“Why?”

“Because if you’re carrying my heir, I’m not taking any chances. Do you have to fight me on everything I say?”

“No. Only when you try to make decisions about my life without consulting me. But since this ordeal can last at most a month, I agree—under one condition.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I promise I’ll tell you the moment I know whether I’m pregnant or not, but until then, I don’t want to see you again.”

Nothing is going how I expected. I should seize the chance to stay away from her. But she’s already run off once, and who’s to say she won’t do it again—and possibly with my most precious treasure in tow?

“That’s a tempting offer, but it won’t be possible.”