Page 61 of A Baby for the Billionaire

“What?” Her tone was defensive.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you⁠—”

“Yeah, a work thing,” he muttered, reaching down for the handle of her suitcase.

“I can carry it,” she argued, but he glared at her with such obvious frustration that she lifted a hand in surrender. “Or you can.”

Downstairs, as a black SUV pulled up and the driver stepped out, Hamish walked her bag to the boot and placed it inside, then moved to the rear passenger door and opened it for Tia.

She barely looked in his direction as she made her way towards it. But as she passed, he reached out and curled his hand around her wrist, pausing her. She looked up at him, eyes saucer-wide. “We’re finishing this conversation when I get back to New York. You’d better come up with a better explanation for what’s going on than ‘work stuff’.”

Her gasp was barely a breath and despite whatever was going on, he couldn’t help it. He dropped his head and kissed her hard, frustration driving him until passion took over and his body was melting against hers as it always did, trying to close every bit of distance between them. But she made a sound that could have been a sob and it pierced the desire that was ravaging him even then.

He pulled away, glancing towards the house rather than looking at her and seeing whatever emotion was on her face.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, stalking across the gravel, feeling like he was missing something vital.

She did another pregnancy test in the air. She hadn’t been planning to until she got back to the city, but when she’d reached into her bag for a pen, her fingers had grazed an unopened box, and she’d figured there was no harm in trying.

Even when she knew not to get her hopes up, she couldn’t help it. Her pulse throbbed and rushed the whole time she waited for a second line to appear; she stared at the test window long and hard, almost convincing herself there was a hint of pigmentation where the line should be. But there wasn’t. Their first month trying for a baby hadn’t worked—now Tia had to grapple with the question of whether it was stupid to continue, after everything that had happened with them, and come up with an answer before he got to New York and came to ‘finish’ their conversation.

It was the second time he’d shown up uninvited to her office. Usually, it wouldn’t have been his style, but given that she hadn’t replied to his text message or email, or returned his phone call, and a week had passed since she’d left the UK, he didn’t have another option.

“I’m sorry, sir, you can’t just go in there,” Tia’s PA said, as he strode past.

“Want to bet?” he muttered under his breath, aware it wasn’t the woman’s fault that he was mad as hell.

He pushed the door inwards and froze at the sight of Tia.

Hell, he should have been prepared. He’d thought he was. But seeing her again after her abrupt departure was doing something chaotic and unexpected to him. His breath was coming as though he’d run a marathon, his muscles seemed to be tensing and releasing of their own accord and his eyes could not shift from her. They couldn’t be controlled. They moved from her head to her shoulders to her waist to her legs and back up again, slowly, achingly, but by the time his gaze was back on her face, her expression showed muted displeasure and nothing else.

“Hamish.” Her voice was sharp, almost as though she were a teacher, out to discipline him. “Why are you here?”

As far as welcomes went, it was colder than ice. He closed the door with intent and strode towards her, pleased when her eyes widened and showed the emotions she was trying so desperately to conceal. “I told you, we weren’t finished.”

Her lips parted, pink and perfect. He wondered what she’d do if he kissed her again, and pulled her into his arms like he’d been dreaming of doing for seven long nights.