She could do this.

She focused.

Thirteen

Über-detective Norma Wessil had just broken into a luxury penthouse hotel suite, discovering the body of Terrance Milhouse, ex-hit man and prime suspect in the murder of socialite Bitsy Green. Terrance’s body was in the bedroom, halfway out of the bed. The cops were on their way up the elevator. And Norma had foolishly touched the murder weapon, leaving her prints behind.

As Jenny read Norma’s internal debate on whether to hide the weapon or wipe it clean, the door to the cottage suddenly burst wide open. Jenny nearly jumped out of her skin. Her head shot up, and her gaze focused on Mitch. Mitch? The book dropped to her lap.

She found her voice. “How on earth-”

“It was my fault,” Cole confessed as he barreled in behind him.

Jenny jumped to her feet, backing toward the wall.

“What are you doing here?” Mitch demanded without preamble. “Why did you leave Royal?”

“What?” she rasped at Cole, her heart pounding fast, stomach contracting in dread.

“Don’t blame Emily,” Cole quickly elaborated. “I tricked her into giving you up.”

“What?”

Emily had told Cole? Cole had told Mitch? Emily had actually betrayed her confidence?

Mitch was moving toward her. His blue-eyed gaze was compassionate and gentle. “Jenny,” he breathed in what sounded like sympathy. She quickly realized he wasn’t mad. He was something else entirely. And there was only one explanation. He knew she was pregnant.

No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. What had Emily done?

“Please don’t blame Emily,” Cole repeated.

Then Emily rushed in, breathing hard. “Jenny, please, I didn’t mean to-”

But Jenny’s brain was a haze of shock and fear. “Tell him I was pregnant?” she finished Emily’s sentence.

The entire room went stock-still.

Emily cringed, and Mitch gave a long, slow blink.

“I tried to phone you,” Emily put in helplessly.

“You’re pregnant?” Mitch rasped.

Jenny opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

He hadn’t known? Then what was he doing here?

Emily’s hand went to her forehead. “I only told him where you were. I didn’t…I wouldn’t…”

Mitch stepped forward, blocking Jenny’s view of Emily. His blue eyes had gone hard, and his mouth was grim. “You’re pregnant? And you’re hiding from me?”

Her world contracted to him alone. “I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what? Didn’t want to tell me? Didn’t think I deserved to know? What the hell is the matter with you?”

Jenny tried to swallow, battling a paper-dry throat. “You had made it abundantly clear,” she managed, voice trembling, “that you weren’t in this for the long-term. You didn’t make a commitment, and I didn’t ask you to make-”

“So you decided I was an irresponsible son of a bitch who’d walk out on a woman who was pregnant with my child?” He raked a hand through his hair. “What have I ever done, Jenny? What have I done to make you think so little of me?”

He didn’t understand, and she wasn’t explaining it right. “Don’t you see?” she pleaded, fighting tears. “That’s the point. I knew you wouldn’t walk out on me. I knew you’d stay. I knew you’d try to be noble, and you’d hate me for it in the end.” Her hand went to her stomach. “I can’t live my parents’ nightmare all over again.”

His expression cleared, and his eyes softened, and his shoulders dropped from their tense position. “I’d never hate you, Jenny. I-”

“You can’t change your feelings just because I’m having your baby.” She gave a watery laugh. If only things worked that way. If only Mitch could feel about her the way she felt about him.

He reached for her hands. “But I don’t have to-”

“You’d feel frustrated and trapped.” She tried to tug away, but he wouldn’t let her. “And you’d get angrier and angrier-”

“I would-”

“-until one day, the fighting would start. And it doesn’t end, Mitch. The plates hit the wall one after the other, after the other.” She involuntarily cringed at the last memory of her father’s harsh voice, and her mother’s helpless pleas. “In my house, my father finally started throwing the china cups. And then he walked out the door, and my mother told me it would be all right. We just have to clean it up.”

Jenny stopped talking, breathing hard.

Mitch drew her toward him, his voice going soft and gentle. “I’m not your father, Jenny. He didn’t love your mother. I love you. That’s the difference.”

She looked him fully in the eyes, knowing she had to be strong. If ever there was a moment in her life she had to say everything exactly right, this was it. “Words are easy, Mitch. Especially for you.”

“You think I’m lying about loving you?”

“I think you want to be a good guy.”

“I’m not a good guy.”

“You are.”

“And you are unbelievably stubborn.” He smiled.

“You took a job in D.C.,” Jenny accused. “How is that love? How is leaving me love?” Even as she spoke, she steeled herself against the persuasive words he was sure to speak.

“It is,” he insisted.

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“But I do.”

Something tightened in Jenny’s chest, but she warned herself not to believe him. Mitch was the consummate diplomat, and right now he thought his mission was to sway her. She had to stay strong for both of them.

Then his voice went lower, more intimate. “Love is when you know deep down in your soul that you’re never going to look at another woman. It doesn’t matter where you go, or what you do, or who propositions you. Your mind is full of one gorgeous, feisty, funny woman back in Royal, Texas, and she’s spoiled you for the rest of the world.”

He stopped and waited.

“You’re so good at that,” Jenny responded with all the emotional strength she could muster, fighting hard against the desire to buy into his fantasy. “What happens when it’s time for you to talk your way out of my life?”

“Feel inside my pocket.”

Her brows went up at the bizarre request. “Excuse me?”

He chuckled. “Not that pocket.” Then he let go of one of her hands and tapped the breast pocket of his suit jacket. “Feel it.”

Her mind still full of suspicion, she reached up. Gingerly, she pressed against the spot he’d indicated. It was a hard lump, and she shrugged her shoulders in incomprehension.

His mouth was curved into a smile as he reached inside and extracted a small box. It was pale green leather, almost silver in its sheen. He tilted it toward her, and she read the embossed words, “Marry Me.”

Something the consistency of concrete slid through to the bottom of her stomach. It wasn’t possible. There was no way.

Mitch lifted the lid to reveal a stunning diamond solitaire against a tiny satin pillow.

She blinked, while goose bumps tingled to life across her skin. “I don’t understand?” she managed.

“Guys who aren’t in love and who, by the way, have no earthly clue their girlfriends are pregnant, do not buy engagement rings and wander around with them in their pockets waiting for exactly the right moment.”

“He’s right about that,” Cole put in, and Jenny saw Emily press an elbow into his ribs.

Mitch gave Jenny’s hand a squeeze. “Will you marry me, Jenny? Please.”

She gazed up at him. How could this be happening? He hadn’t known she was pregnant. He’d had no idea there was any reason for him to be noble.

“I don’t understand,” she repeated.

His smile was tender, and his eyes shone blue-silver. “I love you, and I want you to marry me. And it has absolutely nothing to do with you being pregnant. Though, I’m thrilled about that. And I am going to be a fantastic father. And I am never, ever, ever leaving you, Jenny.”

Tears formed in her eyes, and she glanced at Emily.

Emily was grinning ear to ear. “I believe the word you’re looking for is yes.”

Jenny shifted her incredulous gaze to Mitch. These weren’t just words. He wasn’t being diplomatic. He wasn’t trying to make her feel good. He honestly-

She drew a shaky breath. “Yes.”

He kissed her fast and hard and deep, and then scooped her up into his arms, glancing around. “Which one is your room?”

Jenny laughed in surprise, nodding to a door beside the kitchen.

“Excuse us,” Mitch said over his shoulder to Cole and Emily.

“You might want to put the ring on her finger,” Cole called from behind, laughter threading through his voice.

“Later,” Mitch growled in Jenny’s ear. “With flowers and champagne and me on one knee.”


Lying in her cottage bed, Jenny gazed up at the diamond that sparkled on her finger. They hadn’t bothered waiting for the flowers and champagne, hadn’t even made it out of bed all afternoon. Emily and Cole had headed back to Royal, obviously seeing no reason to stick around and say goodbye.

Mitch’s body was warm against Jenny’s, a light sheet covering them both while the breeze from the ceiling fan wafted its way down.

His hand trailed over her stomach, cupping it with his warm palm. “So, I’m going to be a daddy.”

She put her hand on top of his. “Yes, you are.”

He kissed her temple. “You okay with all this?”

“I am now.” She tipped her head to look at him. “You?”

“I’m not going to be like my father.”

“And I’m not going to be like my mother.”

His free arm went around her, and he gave her a squeeze. “We’re going to do this right.”

“And, apparently, we’re going to do it in D.C.?”

“That was part of my plan. But only if you agree.”

“It’s a good job?” she asked, thinking she’d live anywhere in the world with Mitch. Sure, she had good friends in Royal, but Emily meant the most to her, and it looked like Emily’s life was about to get very mobile. Cole had houses all over America, and in at least four other countries.