Prognosis Baby Daddy - Amy Andrews Page 0,58

everything he did, everything he said, not knowing if it was her or the baby motivating him. She couldn’t — wouldn’t — marry someone who didn’t love her.

She shook her head. ‘I can’t give him up and I can’t marry you either.’

Ben’s heart beat like thunder in his chest and a slow steady burn rise in his chest. ‘So, what? You’re just going to leave?’ His voice was low. Angry. ‘Cut me out of my own child’s life? Because you’d better know — I won’t take that lying down.’

Katya swiped at a tear that had finally escaped to splash down her cheek. She heard the threat in his voice and knew it wasn’t an empty one. She knew he had the power and the means to follow through.

Knew that he’d move heaven and earth for his child.

‘No. I won’t cut you out but I need some time away to think about how we can handle this.’

‘Where do you propose to go?’

‘London,’ she said. It was a good distance but not too far.

Ben could see all his hopes and dreams for the three of them crashing down around him. Katya had been adamant that she wasn’t ever going to be part of their lives, but he had built up that fantasy anyway, convinced she would change her mind.

And she had, but she’d also completely changed the rules.

He felt like he had that day with Mario and Bianca. Like the rug had been pulled from under him. ‘Like hell you’re going to London. You’ve just had a bleed, it’s not safe for you to travel.’

She flinched. Again, his concern for their baby was total. ‘Rocco assured me it would be OK to travel.’ She had enlisted Gabriella’s help as an interpreter after Ben had left.

‘No.’ Ben shook his head, his command final.

Katya raised her chin. ‘Are you telling me that you plan to physically restrain me?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he snapped.

‘Then I am going to London.’ Katya’s heart banged loudly against her ribs. Her hands trembled slightly but she was pleased to see the old strong-as-steel Katya was still there when she needed her.

Ben regarded her seriously, his mind frantically thinking of a legal way to keep her in Italy. Anything he could organise through a court would take a few days. He looked at her stomach full with his child. There had to be a way to keep her here. To convince her to stay.

‘I have rights to this baby, too,’ he said, injecting steel into his voice.

‘I’m not denying you your rights, Ben. Please...I just need some time.’ Everything was so mixed up in her head and she couldn’t sort it out living here.

Ben could see her torment. Could see this conversation wasn’t easy for her either and he took some calming breaths. Maybe some time away would help her see the wisdom of his suggestion? ‘How much time?’ he demanded.

‘A few weeks.’ She shrugged.

‘You can have two.’

Two? She felt like she would do nothing but cry for at least the first two weeks. ‘Four.’

Ben did a quick calculation in his head. She’d be thirty-six weeks. Still a good month until the baby was born. ‘You promise you’ll get help if anything else goes wrong with the baby?’

Katya ground her teeth. ‘Hell, Ben, of course. Don’t worry, your baby will be well looked after.’ Its mother, on the other hand, will be a mess. But don’t concern yourself about that.

‘Four weeks, then,’ he said, pulling his wallet out of his bedside table drawer, pulling out a credit card and scribbling on a piece of paper. He handed them both to her.

‘My card and its PIN number,’ he said.

Katya looked at them blankly and then threw them on the bed, rage and disgust as stormy brew in her gut. ‘I don’t want your money, Ben.’ She picked up her bag. ‘I’ve never wanted your money.’

She opened the door, hardly able to believe they were parting like this.

‘I’ll be keeping in touch.’

Katya stilled with her hand on the doorknob – she had no doubt. ‘Goodbye,’ she said, her heart breaking as she walked out of the room without a backward glance.

CHAPTER TEN

TWO weeks later, Katya sat in a glass bubble high above the Thames as the London Eye slowly completed a revolution. She hadn’t really seen any of the capital spread out below. Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament were directly in front of her now, but their architectural beauty didn’t register. She sat on the central seat staring out aimlessly, while