The air escaped his lungs in a long, heavy breath. “I need you to be patient a little while longer. I’ve got my new attorney working on some important things.”
A pre-nuptial agreement. I should’ve known. She’d gladly sign any document giving up rights to Bran’s money, but it still stung, knowing he didn’t trust her any more than he’d trusted Carina.
“Okay. I can wait. It’s just that Ellie’s asking questions.”
“But you always wait until she’s asleep to sneak up to my room. Right?”
“Not always. I’ve missed a few of her breathing treatments so I could be with you. She’s always a little pouty when Laurie does the nighttime one.” Her chest hurt, tight with guilt.
“Are you missing it now?” His brows drew together.
“Yes, but it’s okay. Ellie will—”
“Let’s go.” He threw the covers back and stepped into his pants.
“You want to help with her CF therapy?”
“Sure I do. If I’m going to be Ellie’s dad, I need to know how to give her breathing treatments.”
As she crawled out of the bed to get dressed, she tried to respond. She opened her mouth, intending to tell him how sweet he was. She wanted to tell him he’d make a great dad, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a sob.
“Shhh…” His arms went around her, holding her against his chest, one hand stroking her hair. His deep voice rumbled in her ear. “It’s okay. I love Ellie almost as much as I love her mother.”
She swallowed hard. “I don’t deserve you.”
“No, you don’t.” His voice was quaky. “You deserve better—so much better than me. I’m trying hard to be what you deserve, but I’m broken, Steph. I’m so screwed up.”
“That’s not true, Branson. You’re—”
His lips silenced her protest. His kiss seemed to cry out in a desperation that matched her own, as his hands tangled in her hair. When he drew away, her lips mourned—a soft, wordless cry.
“Come.” His hand slipped to the small of her back and moved her toward the door. “Teach me how to be a real dad.”
Branson tightened his hands on the arms of his desk chair, trying to push his temper back.
“Mr. Parker—”
“Horace. Call me Horace.”
He sucked in a lungful of air and held it, counting to ten. “Horace, Carina is a beautiful woman. But more importantly, she’s a strong, intelligent person.”
Horace’s chair legs screeched, moving closer to the desk, so close his smoker’s breath came across with his words. “So, you’ll marry her, then?”
“No, Mr. Parker. Carina and I decided to go our separate ways.”
He spat out a vulgar curse word. “I wouldn’t have this problem if she wasn’t such a slut.”
“Mr. Parker—”
“She slept with two Knights, got knocked up by one, and neither one wants her.” His coarse laugh sounded more like a bark. “I get it. I don’t want her, either.”
“You don’t mean that. Carina’s your daughter.”
“I know she’s my daughter.” A slam on his desk made Bran jump out of his skin. “That’s why I have this problem. If she’d been a son, we wouldn’t be having this conversation today. She was a disappointment from the day she was born.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that,” Bran replied, as his heart returned to its normal pace. “Surely her mom would disagree with you.”
“My wife doesn’t often have enough sober minutes in the day to form a lucid thought.” His voice came out strangled, like someone was choking him. “But when she finds out Carina was so stupid and selfish she got herself pregnant, she’ll tell me to kick her butt to the street like the tramp she is.”