A Film Star, A Baby, And A Proposal (5 page)

"
You're being ridiculous. Like any normal person I smile when I'm happy."

"S
o can I deduce from your expression that you're one step down from miserable? Do you want to talk about it? That'll be sandwiches I ordered," he said when there was a knock on the door. "I requested a bit of everything."

Eve decided the best and safest place to sit was at the
small dining table.

She
smiled at the waiter, listened to Matt chatting about who'd scored in the big rugby game of the day. She didn't miss the quick switch of folded notes from one palm to the other. Picking up a coffee pot she poured Matt a cup. The man was addicted to the stuff. Then she poured herself a tea from the pot, added a slice of lemon.

"
What's the new script about," she asked, feeling nervous and not sure why.

He sat opposite, piled a plate high with sandwiches and dug in as if he hadn
't seen food for a week.

She simply stared
.

He grinned at the expression on her face, grabbed a napkin and wiped his fingers.

"Sorry, haven't eaten since brunch. Help yourself. The new movie is set in a gothic urban future. Humans have been almost wiped out by an outbreak of avian/swine flu. A pharmaceutical company manufactures a vaccine. The man who makes the breakthrough is hailed a hero. Then he causes a sensation by admitting on world-wide television that he's a vampire. Vampires have always walked among us."

"
Wow," she said and nibbled the edge of a smoked salmon sandwich. "And what part do you play?"

"T
he hero. I'm the guy who owns the pharmaceutical company. I'm seven hundred and eighty years old and one hot and handsome dude."

She just had to ask,
"Who are the bad guys?"

Eyes twinkling he sat forward, his enthusiasm contagious.

"Evil beings who use magic to open portals to enter our reality. When a portal opens it causes seismic shifts in the earth's polarity causing earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, tornadoes. We're talking eventual global extinction," he said with glee.

"S
o it's a disaster movie with vampires as the good guys?"

He wolfed down
another sandwich. "Almost, not all vampires are created equal. We jump forward ten years. He meets a woman. No disaster movie worth its salt is complete without a valid emotional love interest. She's a commander in the World Health Authority investigating the assassination of a group of vampire elders. The way they died is not pretty. And the theory is they were killed by haemoglobin manufactured by yours truly. And she just happens to be a very powerful witch. And so the story begins."

She sat back in her chair, watching him over the rim of her cup with something
like awe and wonder as he demolished everything on his plate.

"
A paranormal disaster movie?"

"
Yep. It's a departure for me. Great fun. Brilliant director and cast."

"
When do you start filming?"

"
Next month, in New Zealand. It'll take about a year to get it in the bag."

Vivid blue eyes were glittering with sheer excitement into hers.

She blinked.

And just like that Eve
's little ray of hope bit the dust.

Disappointment in him was a
leaden weight on her heart.

He was going to walk away from their baby.

The sandwich on her plate swam out of focus and she blinked, desperate not to show how devastated she felt. Bitter anger with him for being a selfish bastard, and with herself for having false hope, rose into her throat. What had she expected? He'd never entertain the idea of not taking a role just because he was becoming a father.

Timing was everything.

Now Eve decided that the timing was just right to give him her lawyer's papers.

Refusing to meet his eyes
she tossed what she hoped was a brilliant smile in his general direction and stood. "Actually, I have something for you."

On
legs that were far from steady she went into her bedroom for the file with the papers her lawyer had drawn up.

She felt the heat of Matt's blue
eyes on her as she returned, placed the file in front of him.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed he was frowning.

"For you," she said.

Sinking into the chair
at the table she topped up her cup with tea she didn't want, placed a sandwich she had no intention of eating on her plate. Heart thundering in her ears she wondered if maybe she should have given him an inkling of what the file contained.

Too late.

Matt read the pages and went absolutely still.

Face pale, he
closed the file and very carefully placed it on the table.

Those blue eyes weren't twinkling now, instead they'd gone
too dark with something like wrath.

"D
o you
seriously
expect me to sign that? What kind of man do you think I am?" He got to his feet, all six foot four inches of towering and furious male. "More to the point, do I even know who you are? The Eve I thought I knew would never dream of asking me to sign something like this." She flinched when his fist punched his chest. "To sign away
my
rights as the father to
my
child?" Those blue eyes were like chips of solid ice. "Are you fucking insane?"

Eve
blinked.

Okay.

Now she had an unequivocal response she forced down the flare of hope that flickered to life in her belly.

Was it possible she'd read him wrong?

He'd just said he was going to New Zealand in four weeks while she'd be here in England.

Her brow creased.

Nope.

She hadn't read him wrong.

In fact, she'd understood and received the message loud and clear that his career came first.

So why was he so angry with her?

There was no way he was going to come and go as he pleased, surely he understood that?

Perhaps he didn't believe her?
Hadn't she let him come and go in her life? Without asking for anything and without making demands? Perhaps he thought he could just continue their relationship as before?

Not a chance, sunshine.

She licked her lips, cleared her throat.

"
Have you thought this through? Because..."

Then s
he leaned back in her chair as he slapped his hands on the table making the dishes dance.

He leaned over and his eyes impaled hers
.

"T
here's
nothing
to think through," he roared.

Fascinated she watched him fight a
war of attrition to keep a firm grip on his temper.

"
Yes, but..."

Standing
upright with his legs apart and arms folded he glowered and glared at her.

"
But nothing," he rudely interrupted her. His chin jerked up. "Now you just listen to me, Eve. You're carrying my child. I have rights. The child has rights. And you have rights. I get that. I will be the best hands-on father I can be..."

"
But how can you be a hands-on father when you'll be thousands of miles away?" she shot right back. Who did he think he was standing there talking about his
rights
with her? He was the one walking away. He had no rights.

And t
he question was a logical one so why was he looking at her like that?

His eyes were almost black, narrow and intense on her face. He looked at her as if she
'd lost her tiny mind. Maybe she had because she was still totally confused.

He took a big inhale through his nose
, held it and then let it out.

"S
imple. New Zealand is not outer Mongolia. It has state-of-the-art medical facilities. You'll love it there," he assured her. "Why are you looking so shocked? Where I go, baby. You go. Capisce?"

It was seven-thirty in
the evening at The Dower House and Bronte Ferranti was in her sitting room tucked up next to the fire.

H
er feet were warm and toasty encased in thick fleece-lined socks. Settling the cushion at her lower back to ease the ache niggling there she tried to relax, stroking a gentle hand over the giant football of her stomach. Four weeks to go and she couldn't wait. With her collapse and blood pressure going through the roof, both her and Nico had needed nerves of steel to get them through the last two months of this pregnancy. She winced and adjusted her position, trying to get comfortable to accommodate the active child using her belly as a punch bag.

She inhaled the scent of
smoky pine cones crackling in the fire, the cinnamon and apple cookies Rosie had made. She smelled Christmas. She smelled home. God, she loved it. Most of all she loved the people in it, her big Italian husband and the miracle of their children. But at this time of year that love was bitter sweet. During the festive season she missed her mum and dad too much. How she wished they'd lived to meet her babies. Her father would have got such a kick seeing how excited her two year old twins were about a visit from the big guy in red with the white beard. And her mother especially would have adored Nico. Her eyes filled when it hit her that her mother had never experienced the joy of having Luca crawling onto her knee. Never had the chance to rock Sophia to sleep. A fat tear ran down her cheek as she sniffed.

Pregnancy hormones
were the pits.

Nico
was serving her brother Alexander and his wife Rosie drinks and she felt his dark eyes on her, again.

Turning her head she met his wa
tchful gaze. Swiping the tear from her face she gave him a cheeky I'm-perfectly-fine-so-stop-worrying grin. He simply shook his head as he strolled over to hand her a glass of sparkling apple juice.

He bent down to nuzzle the delicate skin under her ear and pressed a tender kiss on her mouth.
"Not comfortable?"

She winced as the child in her belly attempte
d a stretch and an elbow or a knee lodged under her ribcage.

"
He's going to be a gymnast."

"
You look a little pale, headache?"

The back of her fingers stroked over his cheek, his jaw and he pressed his amazing mouth to the back of her hand.
"I'm fine, just weary."

"
I once had
the
best sex dream about Mathias Carter," Rosie said, Bambi eyes going misty at the memory. Dressed in cream leggings and a too big polo neck sweater of black wool with matching shortie Uggs on her feet, she was curled up with her elbow on the arm of the couch, her chin resting on her hand as she stared dreamily into the fire. Her heart shaped face was surrounded by a riot of curls of glossy black hair that fell to her shoulders. "His hands touched me everywhere and his tongue was outstanding. I orgasmed twice in my sleep. It was amazing."

Bronte couldn
't help but grin as Nico's dark brows shot to his hairline. Then laughed when she caught her brother's stunned look of male outrage.

Alexander just stared at his
wife of five short months. Blissfully unaware of having delivered a mighty blow to his ego Rosie was still gazing into the fire with a wistful little smile on her face.

"
Oh. My. God," Alexander said.

The tone jerked Rosie
out of her happy place.

Her smile
now was one of a mother soothing a fractious child.

She reached over, patted his knee.

"Don't worry it was before you. I mean, before you and I did the dirty."

He looked at her as if she
'd grown an extra head.

"
Will you cut it out? We're guests in my sister's home."

She shot him a dark look.
"It was an excellent dirty sex dream," she muttered under her breath.

Alexander pointed a finger.
"One more word and you're going to be a very sorry girl, Rosemary Margaret Ludlow."

Nico just shook his dark head, lifted Bronte's feet and slid his very fine ass onto the stool before placing her feet on his jean covered thighs. Strong fingers massaged Bronte's narrow foot. "She is a handful," he said, referring to Rosie.

"T
ell me about it," Alexander responded with feeling.

Unconcerned, Rosie held up her hands, wiggled her fingers.

"You should see what I can do with
my
hands," she said in a wicked tone that made Bronte laugh. "These hands have many skills. Baking, icing, stroking, smoothing oil up and down my man's..." She stopped at the don't-you-bloody-dare look in her man's emerald eyes. He was no fun. "Anyway, since the lovely Mathias is here incognito, what's he calling himself?"

"
Dick Champion," Alexander said. "Because he rises every morning."

Bronte
's peal of laughter made Rosie grin. "He's a bad boy."

"
From what I saw with my own eyes this morning, I would call him Tiny Dick." Nico said as he stroked a laughing Bronte's calf, caught her eye. "Feeling okay?"

Bronte gave him big eyes.
"We're fine."

Rosie knew Bronte
's recent collapse and the resulting hospital dash to save their baby had scared the breath out of Nico. Hell, it had scared the whole family. Her best friend was still on partial bed-rest. Nico had carried her downstairs this evening as if she was made of the finest porcelain. She was pale, but the baby was growing normally. They had four weeks to go until the child would be delivered by elected C section. Everyone was ticking down the days.

"
It's dinner with Dick tomorrow night," Alexander reminded them. Then he turned to his wife, gave her narrowed eyes. "And you'd better behave."

Rosie did a finger dancing shoulder shimmy.
"Can I wear my red dress?"

"
No."

"
Aww, you're a spoilsport," she told her long-suffering husband. She turned big dark eyes onto Bronte and Nico. "Are you sure you're up to the excitement of meeting a bonafide sex-god? Did you see Matt's superior tight buns in "Love Me Or Die"? Man, just thinking about that naked butt gave me hot flashes for a week. Won't just laying eyes on the man make your blood pressure spike?"

"
I've promised him a casual low-key family dinner," Nico said with a warning eye on Rosie that made her pout and his lips twitch. "So jeans and sweaters and no sex-god talk."

"
He's bringing a woman," Bronte told her.

Feeling a lot more cheery, Rosie rubbed her hands together.
"Ooooh, gossip. Who is she?"

"
None of your business. Be nice. And you're not wearing those leopard print ankle breakers," Alexander added for good measure.

The
possessive tone in his deep voice pressed a hot button.

Open mouthed Rosie
glared at him. "You don't own me."

"
Yes I do," he tossed back. "And you're not going to plaster a whole load of gunk on your face either."

Rosie leaned away to stare hard at her husband
's glowering face. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

"
I think it was the mention of the dream,
Cara
," Nico said in a feeble attempt to pour oil on troubled waters. "Alexander is a man. He has his pride."

"
He's pathetic," Rosie said without taking her eyes from Alexander's.

He leaned into her and went nose to nose.
"Hello, I'm sitting right here."

T
he pretend hurt in his eyes made her want to laugh, so to make up for teasing him she kissed him right on his gorgeous mouth.

She had a thing for that mouth.

No tongues.

And
took a nice deep breath of unadulterated testosterone, his signature peppery cologne and something that was pure Alexander and stirred her every single time.

Actually
in Rosie's opinion Mathias Carter couldn't hold a candle to her husband.

She loved t
he plains and valleys of Alexander's cheekbones. Loved that smooth masculine jaw with five o'clock shadow. Loved the deep green eyes framed by thick lashes, the arched brow, and hair the colour of toffee swept back from his face. As far as Rosie was concerned her husband was nothing short of perfection. Add in a mouth she'd never get tired of kissing and a big masculine body she could never get enough of and Alexander Ludlow was quite the package. After years of suffering through the hell of unrequited love she was still pinching herself that the package was all hers.

A
s ever the thrill raced from Rosie's toes to the roots of her hair.

Lord
, she adored him.

She pulled back to find emerald eyes staring into hers filled with a glittering desire she knew so well.

"You're a much better kisser," she assured him.

His eyes narrowed.

"And you're the love of my life, wife."