as she pushed them through her tight lips. "I'm all set, though." She could never forgive him for the words he'd spoken when she told him about her pregnancy. If it was the last thing she ever did, she'd prove she didn't need him and hadn't tried to trap him.
"I know you're stubborn to a fault." He sighed. "So here's my deal." He flipped open his laptop.
"I'm not interested." She grabbed a pillow and held it over her stomach, like a shield. She didn't even want him to see the evidence of the baby. God forbid he should start talking about custody again.
"These are the documents my lawyer has drawn up," he said, pointing to the computer screen, "requesting joint custody for the child."
Amanda gasped. "You wouldn't!"
He glanced at her curiously. "I said I would. You didn't believe me?"
"I'll deny everything."
"Amanda, what is wrong with you? Paternity is easy to prove."
"Are you planning to talk in court about how I caught you? Will you favor the judge with one of your speeches about how you never wanted to have children?"
His lips tightened. "At least when I make a mistake, I acknowledge it, apologize, and move on. I guess you can't do the same."
"No. I can't. I'm the one who's trapped, not you. I didn't make vile accusations against you. If I ever do, then we'll see how well you move on." She picked at a smudge of dirt on the sofa, but she knew it wouldn't disappear any more than Logan and his demands would.
His face softened. "I know you feel trapped. I'm proposing to make your sentence lighter by offering you my home on Cape Cod for the duration. Mrs. MacDonald would go with you to handle chores so that you can have complete rest."
"Mrs. MacDonald? What are you talking about?" The twinge of alarm had become a full-blown case of panic. The only way to get over Logan was to cut him out of her life completely. Every time she saw him, the knife in her heart twisted a bit more. Even now, his scent was tantalizing her, his lips enticing her, and his shoulders teasing her with their promise of a safe haven. One way or another, she had to yank that knife out of her heart. Which meant, she couldn't have any connection to the man.
"Did you know Mrs. MacDonald is sixty-seven years old?" he asked.
"No." But she wasn't dumb enough to think this was a random change of topic. "Why don't you pension her off?"
"I've offered her the pension my p—" He stopped abruptly.
"Your parents?" The words burst out of her. "You have parents?"
He rose suddenly and stalked over to the window, his back to her. "Mrs. MacDonald," he said, "has a pension, but she prefers to keep busy. It would be easier on her to take care of you on the Cape than to manage my household here in Manhattan."
"Oh, no." Amanda glared at his back. "You've used that maneuver on me before, where I should do Mrs. MacDonald a favor. It's not working this time."
He wheeled around, thrust his hands in his pockets and rocked back a little on his heels. "Fine. Here's the deal straight up. If you accept my offer to move to the Cape, I'll suspend the battle for custody. If not—" He nodded at his computer. "I'll tell my lawyer to proceed."
Amanda wanted to jump to her feet and confront him from a more equal position. But, once again, the baby's needs trumped hers. Instead, she took a couple of deep breaths, reaching for the calmness that his mere presence stole from her.
"I don't understand your obsession with this baby."
His gaze rested on her thoughtfully. "I would have gone my whole life without having children. But now, when a child of mine is going to be born, with or without my wishes, I intend to deal with it. Unlike you, I always deal with reality."
"Fine words," she jeered. "I say you're totally afraid to face reality. I think something happened in your past that affected you terribly. And, guess what, you're not dealing with it."
He cast her one baleful glance, stalked back over to the coffee table and, with swift, jerky movements, packed up his computer.
"Here are the keys." They clattered on the table. "Be on the Cape in one week or get yourself a lawyer."
The door closed behind him. He didn't even give her the satisfaction of slamming it.