Prognosis Baby Daddy - Amy Andrews Page 0,61

crockery clattered and muted laughter mingled with piano music. She continued on until she reached the entrance to the dining room.

‘Miss Petrova?’ a waiter enquired as she nodded. ‘This way, please. The count is expecting you.’

Katya followed the waiter into the glamorous room, her eyes searching the tables, oblivious to the Louis XVI-inspired decor. Her heels sank in to the plush carpet of muted pink, green and cream. Above her head chandeliers linked by gilt garlands cast a subdued glow.

The ceiling from which they hung displayed an amazing fresco. The large floor-to-ceiling windows that faced Green Park were hung with heavy formal drapes. A four-piece band was playing and some couples were dancing.

Katya felt exactly how she’d felt the first time she’d seen inside the Lucia Clinic. Smothered. Stifled.

And more and more annoyed.

She’d rather be eating a BLT from Pret on a park bench. Was Ben trying to impress her with his stature and power. Trying to intimidate her?

Well, she didn’t scare easily.

And if Ben thought he was going to lord it over her, he could think again. She had as much right to this baby as he.

The waiter stopped at a table set for two and pulled out Katya’s chair. She ignored it her eyes meeting Ben’s stare. Her heart slammed madly in her chest. He looked tired and haggard. His jaw boasted a three-day growth and there were darker smudges beneath his eyes.

‘The Ritz, Ben? How predictable.’

‘Sarcastic, Katya? How predictable,’ he mimicked as he half rose. ‘You’re late. Sit.’

Ben could smell cinnamon as his gaze ate her up. She was a sight for sore eyes and, as she twisted to sit, he saw how much more the swell of her stomach had increased. He suppressed the urge to reach over and embrace her, feel her belly pressed against his.

Katya felt rather than saw the waiter pushing her chair under her as Ben ordered a Scotch for himself and some iced water with lemon for her. It irritated her that he hadn’t even asked. She wasn’t used to seeing him like this. He seemed to be playing Count tonight and she didn’t doubt it was another power ploy.

He certainly looked every inch the aristocrat. He was wearing a suit that shrieked of class and money. His shirt was blue with a blue pinstripe and his tie was navy. He looked...wealthy. There was just something about the way he held himself that spoke of old money.

He passed her a menu. ‘I’m not hungry,’ she said refusing to look at the offending item.

He looked at her over the top of his menu. ‘I’ll have the snails. The signorina will have the quail,’ he said, snapping his menu closed and handing it to the waiter.

The last thing Katya wanted to do was sit there and make small talk over tiny birds and disgusting slugs. She just wanted to get this over with so she could get the hell away. Away from the oppressive opulence in a place she’d never belong. Away from his brooding presence.

She’d missed him. So much she ached all over.

‘Just say what you need to say, Ben.’

Ben decided I love you, my life is awful without you wouldn’t wash right now. ‘What the hell happened to the plan, Katya?’

The plan sucked because she’d fallen in love with him. And the baby. That’s what had happened. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I can’t just hand him over to you. I thought I could. Then I took that fall and nearly lost him and I felt so awful, so wretched ...I just knew I couldn’t give him up.’

‘I would never have asked you to.’

No. But you’d ask me to commit to a loveless marriage. ‘Once I realised I could do it by myself, I had to get away. It’s all this.’

Katya gestured around her at the palatial dining room. Waiters with different-coloured jackets fussed over each table under the watchful eye of the head waiter, who wore tails. ‘This isn’t me, Ben.’

It wasn’t the real reason but it was another aspect of their relationship that had always made her uneasy.

‘It isn’t me either,’ he denied.

Katya snorted. ‘You look like you were born at this table.’

Ben could feel his patience wearing thin. ‘So it was OK for our child to have all this when it was me raising him. But now you want to raise him, all this is too rich for you?’

Oh, God, it sounded so awful when he said it like that. She shook her head. ‘You said it yourself, Ben.