And that’s what hurt the most. Had he always believed the worst in her? When he’d slept with her, had he just been passing time?
Mia hated the thought that she’d slept with Bronson out of pure lust. She’d never slept with a man only because she found him attractive. But it wasn’t just that Bronson was curl-your-toes sexy. He had been so smooth, so seductive, and with the ambiance of Cannes and all the romance surrounding them, she’d been caught up in a whirlwind. But she’d be damned if she let her lack of good judgment affect her child’s life or what Bronson thought of her.
This baby would have everything she never did: stability, unconditional love and family. Mia would settle for nothing less.
Eight
The next month flew by without any major drama—baby or otherwise. Anthony still hadn’t confronted Olivia, and Bronson was still as personable as a bedsheet when he’d call twice daily to ask how she was feeling.
But today was the day of her first prenatal visit, and Bronson would be picking her up any minute.
This should be a fun ride.
As if the strained phone conversations weren’t enough, now she had to sit in close proximity to the man she found both insufferable and devastatingly attractive at the same time. She couldn’t blame any of this on her hormones. Bronson was still just as sexy, and every time she looked at him she couldn’t help but remember their night together.
She so wished she could forget how amazing his hands felt as they’d glided over her body. The way he held her, giving so much of himself. Mia had never before experienced anything like it, and she had a feeling she never would again. Yes, the sex had been hurried, frantic, but Bronson had been so in tune with her body, so perfect for her.
When Mia’s doorbell rang, she grabbed her purse and keys and opened the door to a still-sexy Bronson. She reset the alarm and closed the door behind her. Without a word, Bronson led her to his two-door sports car. At least he had the decency to open the passenger door for her.
“This’ll be a blast,” she muttered to the empty car as he walked around the hood.
As soon as he got in and brought the engine to life, Mia twisted in her seat. “You don’t have to go. No one will think anything if you just stay away. I’ve already given you the out you obviously want. I expect nothing from you.”
Bronson’s grip tightened on the wheel, the muscle ticking in his jaw. “I said I’d be there for every appointment in case the baby is mine. I meant it. My assistant has already called to ensure we will be taken back immediately.”
Mia wasn’t going to argue. In truth, she wanted to share this glorious time with someone, she just wished that someone shared her excitement.
And she was excited—more and more every day. The baby was coming whether she’d planned for it or not. True, the fear still overwhelmed her at times, but in all honesty, she was happy about this little person growing inside her. She’d even had a burst of giddiness this morning when her skirt had been snug.
“You’re happy?”
Mia glanced back over to Bronson. “Excuse me?”
He threw her a glance. “You were smiling. You’re happy about this.”
“The baby, yes. The situation, not really.” She smoothed her short cotton skirt over her knees. “I won’t lie. The more I think about this baby, the more excited I get. But I do wish I was at a different place in my life. I’ve always envisioned myself married before having kids.”
He said nothing, and Mia wasn’t sure she even wanted to know what he thought. Other than her giving him directions to the doctor’s office, nothing else was discussed. Obviously, he didn’t want things to get too personal, and that was fine with her. If he was going to be a jerk about this, she didn’t want to open up her feelings to him. He didn’t deserve to be privy to her thoughts.
Once they were in the office, Bronson’s tension meter skyrocketed as his shoulders stiffened and his gaze moved around the room. They were immediately shown to a private waiting area, complete with a closed door. Considering Hollywood’s lame attempt to keep things hush-hush, Mia assumed every doctor’s office had private waiting areas like this one.
“You okay?” she whispered as she filled out all the documents about her medical history.
“Fine.”
Mia let it go and proceeded with the questions. She knew her information, but when it came to the father, she was a bit uncomfortable asking.
“Could you um…” She nudged the clipboard and paper onto his lap and handed him the pen. “I need you to fill this section out.”
His eyes darted down, then back up to her. “Can’t you leave it blank?”
“If I didn’t know who the father was I would. But since you’re here, fill it out and pretend this isn’t torturous.”
She’d seriously had it with his take on the pregnancy. He didn’t want to acknowledge the baby was his because he was scared of losing another one. But the least he could do was be supportive of her. Not financially, but some conversation or even a smile now and then would help.
Lord have mercy, would he ever believe that she wasn’t out to sabotage his family? She could only hope time and her actions would prove her innocence.
He grabbed the pen, began reading then checking the appropriate boxes next to family history of illnesses and diseases. Mia stared at the paper, jealous that he actually had a family history that he knew about, had heard stories about. That is what she wanted for her child. That sense of family, a unit.
Mia had only been able to answer the questions strictly on what she had been told about her birth parents. Beyond them, she knew nothing about her family back in Italy. Her mother had been a diabetic, but other than that, she didn’t know about any major health issues.
Tracing a finger over the scar on her hand, Mia silently vowed to her unborn baby that there would always be stability, always a place to call home.
“Here.” Bronson handed the clipboard back to her. “I’m done.”
She took the forms out to the receptionist and within minutes they were called back to the exam room. When the nurse told Mia to change into the gown, her eyes darted to Bronson. He merely lifted a brow as the nurse left the room.
“I’ll just change in here.” She motioned to the bathroom.
As Mia put on the paper-thin gown, she nearly laughed at how modesty now overtook her. The man had touched, tasted and savored every inch of her body. And he would probably be in the delivery room.
Yeah, modesty definitely had no place here. Her needs were no longer a priority. Her baby trumped everything and everyone.
Mia put on the hospital footies and padded back out to the exam table, holding her gown together with a fisted hand. Bronson’s presence filled the room as he sat in the corner in a plastic chair.
“What will they do today?” he asked.
Mia’s heart softened a little. She knew he was nervous. He’d lost a baby once before. He may have his doubts about whether or not he was the father, but she could tell he was getting more used to the idea.
“I think they listen for a heartbeat and maybe do an ultrasound to see exactly how far along I am.”
“I came to a couple appointments the first time…” He trailed off, looking her in the eye. “Never mind. Let’s just focus on now.”
Mia wanted to say something, to not let this intimate moment pass her by. For a split second he’d thought of opening up to her, and she realized she wanted that more than she’d thought. She did want a connection to Bronson, other than a physical one, if for no other reason than for the sake of the baby. Could they work backward and attempt at least a friendship? Would he ever feel comfortable enough to not close up when personal issues arose?
The door swung open and Mia smiled at her doctor.
“Good afternoon, Mia,” Dr. Bender said. “How are you feeling today?”
Mia nodded. “I’m adjusting to the morning sickness and I know to keep food by my bed and eat before I even think about standing up.”
The doctor washed and dried her hands at the sink in the corner. “You should be nearing the end of the queasiness. Not many women have morning sickness through their entire pregnancy.”
The entire pregnancy? Mia couldn’t even fathom that. She prayed she had the typical first trimester kind and the sickness would end soon.
Dr. Bender moved around the exam table. “Just lie back here and let’s listen for the heartbeat.” She eased Mia down and glanced over to Bronson. “You’re the father?”
Mia didn’t look at him, didn’t want to see his denial, but she was even more crushed when he spoke.
“How soon can a DNA test be done?” he asked.
The doctor placed a sheet over Mia’s legs, then folded the gown up to expose her belly and squirted some cool gel onto her stomach. She began to move the Doppler around, spreading the sticky gel, obviously not fazed by Bronson’s question.
Mia, on the other hand, wanted to cry. How dare he humiliate her like this? Even worse, how could he deny this baby in public? Besides making it sound as if she slept around, he was disrespecting their child.
“That depends,” Dr. Bender said. “There is one test called chorionic villus sampling, which can be done between ten and fourteen weeks. The other is called an amniocentesis, which is done between fourteen and twenty weeks. I can go over the procedures and the risks involved if you’d like before you make a decision.”
Amid all the static of the Doppler machine and the doctor telling Bronson about the testing, Mia heard it. The rapid thump, thump, thump of her baby’s heartbeat.
Her baby. Her eyes darted to Bronson. Their baby.
“Baby’s heart rate is right at the norm for eleven weeks.” The doctor wiped off the gel from Mia’s stomach. “Sounds like you’ve got a healthy one. Are you experiencing any other symptoms, other than morning sickness?”
“Just some slight cramping,” Mia told her. “I get dizzy sometimes.”
“You never told me that,” Bronson piped up, suddenly more concerned.
Eyes wide, Mia threw him a look. Now was certainly not the time to discuss why she hadn’t told him—because he’d barely given her two minutes when he’d called on the phone. Besides, if he’d acted halfway as if he genuinely cared, she would have made the time to open up to him.
“That’s fairly normal,” the doctor told her, taking a seat on her black stool. “Your uterus is stretching, so that will cause some cramping. Try to rest as much as possible. If a miscarriage happens, it’s more than likely going to happen within the first twelve weeks from conception. I don’t say that to scare you. I just want you to listen to your body and take good care of yourself.”
“I’ll see that she does.”
Mia fisted her hands at her side. Now he chose to step up? Now he wanted to offer to help? And what did he mean by he’d see that she takes care of herself? Did he plan on spending more time with her?
When the rest of the exam was done and she got herself dressed, Mia scheduled an ultrasound for next month and didn’t wait for Bronson before she made quick steps back to his car.
She wasn’t sure what she was most angry at. His abrupt questioning about the DNA, that he acted like he cared once she’d mentioned her symptoms or that he had the doctor laughing at his witty charm by the end of the appointment.
Damn that man. She just wanted to throttle him for making her so aware that her feelings weren’t slacking at all…if anything they were growing stronger.
The man oozed sex appeal, he charmed everyone he came in contact with and he’d starred in nearly all her dreams since they’d left Cannes. One would think, in light of the situation, she’d learned her lesson not to fall for the charm, but unfortunately her mind and her heart were not receiving the same memo.
So now she wasn’t only angry with him for his accusations and attitude toward her, she was furious with herself for getting all tied up in knots over a man she’d let work his way into her life. Permanently.
By the time Bronson pulled in front of Mia’s cottage, he knew he was not going to get an invite inside. He also knew that wouldn’t stop him.
He opened her car door, took her hand to help her out and kept holding it, even when she tugged. He wasn’t letting her off the hook that easily.
She’d driven him crazy from the second she’d stepped out of her house. Immediately he’d noticed the change in her body from her fuller br**sts to her thicker waist. She’d looked completely simple in layered colorful tanks that hugged her slightly rounded belly and a plain cotton skirt, showcasing those killer legs. Her ensemble was utterly sexy.
Added to that, her protectiveness of the baby, her adamant stance that she wanted a stable life for her child—maybe his child—was just another aspect that made her even more attractive.