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“How would I even know that you’d be out on the street testing that abomination?” She waved a hand in frustration.

“Women have followed me around for weeks looking for an opportunity to catch me in a compromising position.”

“I fail to understand why. If I were in a position to choose, you wouldn’t be my first choice; you wouldn’t even be the last!” She closed her eyes briefly, a grimace on her face, as she said it.

And although he understood the sentiment, he wished he could say it didn’t hurt.

She hadn’t wanted to marry him.

He could not really fault her for that. His own parents didn’t want him, no wonder she didn’t either. His only value lay with his title and money. And there were other men who could boast similar possessions.

“Who is the father?” he heard himself ask. Why do I care?

She swallowed. “Bernard. Viscount O'Malley's son. My former fiancé.”

Tyrone knew the viscount but hadn’t met his children. The viscount wasn’t very memorable either. Average height, average build, average looks and intellect. Nothing that stood out about him. He wondered if his youngest son was superior in every way.

He must be, to catch Emily’s eye.

“Does he know about the child?”

A pained grimace flashed across Emily’s face. “I told him of my suspicions. But I wasn’t certain then.”

He nodded. “Now that we have this cleared out and you have secured yourself and your child a cozy future, you can get out of my room.”

She stood motionless, her eyes on the floor, looking lost.

Tyrone had the urge to go to her, gather her in his arms, and comfort her.

He had to remind himself that she was a liar and a manipulator. So, he remained still.

“I am sorry that I hurt you,” she finally said in a hoarse voice. “I was frightened and I had no choice but to do what I did. I regret the way it all unfolded, but I do not regret what it unfolded into. I came to care for you—”

He scoffed. “Cared for me so much you lied to me all this time?”

“Cared about you enough to tell you the truth!”

“After you got what you wanted. After realizing you wouldn’t be able to trick me further!”

She opened her mouth to reply, but quickly closed it, proving his words to be true. She had planned to continue lying to him about the child. And that realization hurt more than he could bear.

“Get out.”

“No.” The obstinate woman shook her head. “I know I hurt you, but I also know that nights are difficult for you. I can’t leave you alone. Especially not after an upsetting conversation.”

He let out a hoarse laughter. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not about pity.”

He prowled toward her, stopping less than a foot away. “What is it about then?”

“Compassion.” Her liquid eyes stared right into his.

“I don’t need that either.”

She let out a frantic breath, fire brewing in those dark brown eyes of hers. “What do you want then?”

He looked her up and down. She was magnificent in her fury and desperation. His entire body went taut with just a glimpse of her. Now that he’d moved closer, he could smell the fragrant scent of her soap and her own essence.