“You’re subletting from your cousin.”
“So?”
“And that you’re planning to move in with your parents.”
“Can you stop repeating me back to me?”
“Come inside, Elodie. There’s way too much to discuss, and you know it.”
Her jaw dropped, but to his surprise—and appreciation—she did step wordlessly from the car, her body moving with lithe grace and beauty.
He stifled a groan as he followed, moving quickly to fall into step at her side, through the corridor and into the entrance foyer of his place. The last time they’d come in from the garage had been the night they’d made love. He remembered the way her fingertips had tentatively traced his tattoo, her eyes mesmerized as they studied the illustration and words.
“Okay, well, you have me here. What do you want to discuss?”
“Of principle importance, at this point, is deciding where we’ll live.”
He heard it. He knew how jarring the statement was, but so what? It wasn’t his job to pretend this wasn’t happening. One of Raf’s strengths was his ability to make a snap decision, to follow his gut. And right now, every bone in his body was telling him that he couldn’t and wouldn’t be physically separated from his baby. For now, that included Elodie. Who could say what would happen when the baby was born? They had time to figure that out, to work out how to co-parent. He knew only that the same instincts that had driven him to propose to Marcia were driving him now. Though marriage was the last thing he wanted—he knew it wasn’t the only way to protect their baby, and Elodie.
“What?” She was blinking so fast he genuinely worried her eyelids might flutter away. “You can’t be serious.”
“Do I seem like someone who jokes?”
She shook her head, a little divot forming between her brows. “But…I’m not moving in here. It’s not remotely sensible for a kid. I mean, look at this place,” she gestured to the room they were standing in. Her point was well taken. His home was like a high-end art gallery, something that had never mattered, until now.
“I’m not necessarily talking about you moving here.”
“You just said?—,”
“I have a place in Italy. It’s bigger, more sprawling. There’s plenty of space, privacy, and it’s very secure. In my opinion, that’s where we should raise our baby.”
CHAPTER 5
HIS STATEMENT—SO CALMLY delivered—seemed to be coming from a very long way away, so Elodie thought, at first, she’d misheard.
“You can’t seriously be suggesting we get married? We’ve known each other for a sum total of, what? Twelve hours? And most of these we spentnottalking.”
“I remember how we spent our time, Elodie, but it’s not a good idea to remind me of it right now.”
The unmistakable need in his voice made her whole body surge with something she hadn’t expected—heat. So, she ached to reach out and grab a fist of his shirt and drag him against her. Because whatever had made those words grow and reverberate in his throat and burst from him like fire and flame were in each syllable, she felt too. Of course she did.
That night they’d shared had been the hottest of her life. It had redefined everything she’d thought she’d known about sex. It had redefined the parameters of what she wanted in a relationship. But they’d both agreed it was just a one-time thing, and that was especially relevant now.
They could never fall back in bed together. It would be a disaster to complicate this already messy situation with sex—no matter how hot.
“I amnotsuggesting we get married,” he responded, eyes flaring, a hint of colour staining his cheekbones. “Nor am I suggesting any relationship of any sort, between us. You are, however, the mother of my child, and I can see no alternative besides living together.”
She shook her head quickly. “That’s absurd.”
“Why?”
“Because…I just said…we don’tknoweach other.”
“Do we need to know each other?”
“You’re suggesting I pack up my life?—,”
“Such as it is.”
