Little Secrets--Unexpectedly Pregnant Page 5

  Linc’s expression was sober. “Do you want to keep this child?”

  Now there was a question she could answer without hesitation. “With every breath I take.”

  Linc relaxed and his lightened. “Okay then. If you want to keep the baby, then we’ll all pitch in to help you... You know that, right?” Linc stated.

  Sage nodded. “I do. So does, apparently, Tyce.” She tapped her index finger against her thigh. “I’m really surprised that he wants to be involved. I thought he’d take my offer to run.”

  Linc scowled. “A hell of a lot surprised me today and that was only one thing of many.” Linc flipped through the folder Tyce had left and pulled out a letter-sized photograph of his sister, Lachlyn. He placed it on the table so that they could both look at the photo. “I can’t deny that she looks like Connor, she has his eyes.”

  “And his nose,” Sage added. Apart from their hair color, she and Lachlyn could almost be sisters.

  Linc folded his arms. “He made quite a few threats today. Do you think he’d act on them?”

  Sage knew he would. Tyce never said anything he didn’t mean and she told her brother so. “The media is fascinated by him and, because he’s so reclusive, when he speaks the world will sit up and listen.”

  “Crap.”

  “If his sister is Connor’s daughter... God,” Sage said, her voice trembling. She couldn’t say more, hoping that her brother would know what she was trying to say without her having to verbalize her thoughts.

  “If she’s his daughter she’s entitled to some part of his wealth? Is that what you are trying to say?” Linc asked her, pain in his eyes.

  Sage nodded. “Isn’t she? We’re not his biological children, Linc. Yes, he adopted us but we’re not his blood,” Sage muttered. “If he knew about her, he would’ve scooped her up and pulled her into the family, his family.”

  “He wouldn’t have tossed us aside,” Linc stated, his voice full of conviction. “Connor had an enormous capacity for love.”

  “But he wouldn’t have ignored her either.”

  Linc nodded, his face grave. “You’re right. She would’ve been pulled into this family. And five people would’ve inherited his wealth and not four.”

  Sage traced the curve of Lachlyn’s cheek with her finger.

  Tyce’s sister would’ve been hers, as well. The mind just boggled at the thought.

  Linc rested his arms on the table, his brows lowered. “It’s important that we take this one step at a time, that we don’t get carried away. We need to do the DNA testing.”

  She had a sister; Connor had a child; there was a missing Ballantyne out there. Sage felt the world tilting and she leaned her back against the wall and closed her eyes. She couldn’t do this; it was all too much. The pregnancy, Tyce, Lachlyn... Too much change.

  And let’s not forget the little detail of Tyce deliberately targeting her to gather information on her family. Their meet-cute at that art gallery had been anything but fortuitous. He’d intentionally set out to meet her with the goal of getting her to spill company information. And strangely, that hurt the most and made her doubt everything that had happened between them. Were they really that sexually compatible or had he been just pretending? Was he as attracted to her as she was to him? Had it all been one horrible, well-thought-out, excellent act on his part?

  God, just the thought that the six weeks they’d spent together three years ago might be one-sided made her feel like someone was ripping out her internal organs without any pain relief.

  Had he laughed at her, was he still laughing? Did he think she was a gullible idiot? That she was easily manipulated? God, she had to know.

  Right now.

  Sage lunged for her phone and pulled up his number, punching the green button. Tyce answered just after the first ring.

  “Yeah?”

  “Where are you?”

  “In the alley behind the store—I went out the back exit,” Tyce replied. “Why?”

  “Wait there,” Sage ordered, her skin prickling with embarrassment. She disconnected the call and picked up her coat, draping it over her arm. She could cope with a baby, with being on her own, but she didn’t know how she would handle the truth that she was simply a means to an end for Tyce.

  And a very easy lay.

  God, she’d never felt more off-balance in her life. She looked at her favorite brother. “I’m going to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Linc placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Shall we all have dinner at The Den tonight and you can break the news to the rest of the family? That way you can answer all the questions that I don’t have the answers to.”

  Sage nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Linc pulled her into his arms and rubbed the top of his chin across her head. When he spoke, his voice was rough with emotion. “Our baby is having a baby. How is that possible? How did it happen?”

  Her eyes burning from unshed tears, Sage knew that in order to stop her tears from falling, she needed to diffuse the emotion swirling between them. “Well, Latimore and I met and then we stripped each other naked—”

  Linc took a hasty step back and slapped his hands over his ears. “Shut up, shrimp. God, now I need brain bleach to get that picture out of my head.”

  * * *

  Sage was a bundle of dread and anxiety.

  She wanted to run away and hide, to do her ostrich impression—head in the sand—but at the same time she needed to know, she needed to have her worst fears confirmed.

  Because when they were, she could, finally and without a smidgeon of doubt, bury those lingering doubts around whether walking away from Tyce three years ago was the right thing to do.

  She’d know and she could be free of the what-ifs that occasionally plagued her. What if she was braver? What if she took a chance?

  When he told her that it was all one-sided, then she could finally step away from him, physically and mentally.

  At the door leading to the alley Sage punched the master code into the access panel and heard the click. She gave the heavy door a hard push and stumbled down the two steps that led into the narrow space behind the building.

  “Easy there,” Tyce said, grabbing her arms and keeping her from doing a face-plant.

  Sage slapped his hands away and tossed him a scathing look. “Did you deliberately set out to meet me three years ago?”

  Tyce frowned and his expression turned inscrutable. “Initially, yes.”

  “And after that?” Sage demanded, hearing the shrill note in her voice. “Did you keep sleeping with me to get information about the business and my family?”

  “You didn’t give any,” Tyce pointed out.

  “That’s not the point! Did you use me for information?” Sage shouted, slapping her hands against his chest. “Did you keep sleeping with me because it was a means to an end? Were you into me, at all?”

  Sage felt her ribs squeezing her heart and lungs and thought that her skin felt a size too small. She reminded herself to breathe, telling herself that she could deal with hearing that Tyce wasn’t that into her, because it would give her the impetus she needed to stop thinking about him, dreaming about him, being tempted by him.

  “Is that what you think?” Tyce asked, gripping her wrists and holding her hands against his broad chest. And, just like that, heat flowed into her and her fingers tingled with the need to touch and to explore. She could feel the slow, hard thump of her heart against her tight ribs and her nipples tightened, desperate for attention.

  Tyce was touching her and that was all that was important...

  “Are you seriously asking me whether I was pretending to be attracted to you?”

  Tyce’s harsh question reminded her that they were standing in an alley in the rain-tinged wind. Oh, and that she was as mad as hell with him.

  “Are you insane?�
� Tyce demanded, his face saturated with frustration. He abruptly dropped her hands and slapped a hand on the top of her butt, jerking her into him. Sage released a surprised gasp when her stomach connected with the long, hard length of him. Holy cupcakes, he felt so good...

  Tyce grabbed her elbows and lifted her off the ground, easily carrying her until her back touched the rough concrete wall. Holding both her wrists in one hand, he lifted her hands above her head, her breasts pushed into his chest. His deep, dark eyes met hers as he brushed her hair off her cheek. Sage held her breath as he slowly, so slowly dropped his head and his lips finally—God, he felt so good—covered hers.

  His lips danced over hers, a soft, slow exploration, his tongue gentle as it wound around hers. She expected fire; she expected heat; she expected the maelstrom of want and need that always swirled between them but she didn’t expect tenderness or reassurance. She didn’t want to feel either. She wanted to be able to walk away from him, not be tempted to step closer... God, how could he make her feel like this?

  Sage wrenched her mouth out from under his and glared up at him with what she hoped were stormy, accusing and not dreamy eyes.

  “Did you kiss me to avoid the question?” she demanded, begging her heart to stop its relentless attempt to leave her chest. She dropped her eyes and, feeling the length of him still pressed against her, tried to pull her hands from his grip.

  Tyce held her chin and forced her to look at him again. “I admit that I set out to meet you but this—” he hesitated “—crazy buzz between us had nothing to do with Lach-Ty, with the Ballantyne shares. It was, is, all you.” He pushed his hard erection into her stomach and closed his eyes. “And me. You walk into the room and I immediately start thinking about how soon I can get you naked.”

  Dammit. His voice was deep and slow and lifted every hair on her neck. It made her want to feast on him, to gulp him up.

  So much for finding some distance.

  Tyce abruptly dropped her hands and stepped away from her, pushing his free hands into his hair. “It’s cold and—” he nodded to the camera above their head “—not the most private place for either kissing or conversation. We’ll talk more tonight.”

  Sage nodded, her head hurting with an overload of information and emotion.

  Two thoughts ran through her head like toddlers on a sugar high: I want him bad and it’s so bad that I want him.

  Five

  As an artist, Tyce immediately noticed the windows running from her floor to the ceiling, and massive skylights maximized the amount of light streaming into her loft apartment. This place was so Sage, he thought, looking around. The front door swiveled on a hinge in the middle of the frame as Sage closed the door behind him. The floor was comprised of light wooden planks holding a subtle tinge of pink. The wooden beams in the ceiling were partially stripped of their off-white cream paint, allowing the natural grain of the wood to bleed through. The entire loft was open-plan, except for a divider at the far end of the room, which suggested a bed and a bathroom hid behind. He looked up and saw the main bedroom overhead. There were two faded couches in a cream-and-nude stripe, beanbags tossed on the floor, and the back corner held her workbench and a massive corkboard containing sketches of her designs.

  Tyce, because he appreciated the artist she was, immediately walked over to that wall, examining her sketches. There was an intricate diamond choker, a bracelet that reminded him of a serpent crawling up an arm and teardrop earrings. Tyce looked at her scribbled notes on each drawing where she’d detailed the stones she’d use. Four-carat emeralds here, a six-carat diamond there. Sage didn’t play around.

  Tyce lifted his finger up and tapped the letter-sized photograph of a ring sporting a massive red stone for its center and delicate diamond petals. Even he, stupid when it came to stones, could see that this was a serious piece of jewelry art.

  “Is that a ruby?”

  “It’s a red diamond,” Sage said, coming up to stand at his shoulder. “Ridiculously rare, practically flawless. It’s—” she placed a hand on her heart and Tyce could see the emotion in her eyes “—the same chemical composition of coal but it amazes me that pressure and millions of years can turn coal into that.”

  “Is it really that red?” Tyce asked, intrigued.

  Sage half smiled. “That photograph doesn’t even begin to capture the color. It’s a deep, luscious red that defies description.”

  “I take it that the Ballantyne family owns the ring?”

  Sage nodded.

  “Then why wasn’t it with the rest of the collection at the cocktail-party-slash-exhibition? I thought the point of the exhibition was to display the fabulous stones your family has collected over the past hundred years. I’d say that this ring qualifies as fabulous.”

  Sage picked a pair of pliers, examined the handle and dropped them back onto the bench. “We decided not to show it to the world.”

  “Why not? Is it stolen?”

  Sage glared at him. “No, it’s not stolen.” She sighed and Tyce noticed her eyes darkening with something akin to pain. “I asked Linc not to exhibit the ring. For personal reasons.” Before he could ask what those personal reasons were Sage held up her hand and continued to speak. “Not going there, not now, not ever.”

  Yeah, good idea. Talking was a damn good way to crack the door allowing those pesky feelings to slide on through. They had enough to deal with as it was and they didn’t need emotions muddying the water.

  Bare feet peeking out from under the long hem of her jeans, Sage walked back to the center of the room and sat down on one of the two couches.

  Tyce sat in the far corner on the couch opposite her, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. If she was in arms’ reach, then there was a damn good chance that he’d say to hell with talking and take her to bed. As his lack of control in the alley earlier showed, resisting Sage was not something he’d ever excelled at. And, he admitted, making love to her would be like adding C-4 to a bonfire. Stupid and dumb-ass crazy.

  They were adults and they had to have a mature conversation about their situation. Tyce thought that adulthood wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be...

  Then again, it was a damn sight better than being a child trying to operate in an adult world.

  Sage pulled up her feet and tucked them beneath her bottom. She still looked a little shell-shocked and he couldn’t blame her. Nothing was simple about this situation... Nothing ever would be.

  While he wasn’t a talker, he did concede that sometimes the only way to move forward was to communicate. Dammit, something else he wasn’t great at.

  “Are you still mad because I deliberately set out to meet you?” Tyce asked, keeping his voice mild.

  “You used me!”

  Initially he had. He’d asked her out that first night because she was Sage Ballantyne, because he’d just found out that Lachlyn was Connor’s daughter and, in his anger, he’d thought that Sage was living Lachlyn’s life. He’d expected to find a pampered princess, someone he would despise, but Sage had turned out to be totally different. She was funny, down-to-earth, a little crazy.

  “Within an hour of meeting I established that, while you adored your family, you wouldn’t talk about them. I also quickly realized that you weren’t that interested in the business side of the company.”

  He caught the defiance in her eyes but he knew she was listening.

  “If I was only interested in you for business information, I wouldn’t have bothered to call you again,” Tyce told her. “I paid a fair price for every share I purchased. I bought enough shares to bring Lachlyn to your attention, which was my eventual goal. Hearing that you are pregnant with my child moved my schedule up a bit. I haven’t cheated anyone out of anything.”

  “You’re blackmailing us!” Sage retorted but he saw the doubt in her expression. Tyce didn’t feel offended, realizing that she wa
s just trying to find solid ground, trying to make sense of this situation.

  “I’m asking for DNA to be tested and if that DNA proves my theory, I am asking for my sister to meet you and your brothers. I am not asking for money, time or involvement.” Tyce rested his forearms on his thighs, his eyes steady on her face.

  Sage picked at the rip on her thigh, opening up a hole in the denim that wasn’t there before.

  She looked so lost and alone, out of her depth. Easily able to identify with those emotions, Tyce ignored his brain’s insistence to play it cool. He moved across the bare wooden floorboards and dropped in front of her, bending his knees and linking his hands. “I wanted to tell you first, Sage, but you wouldn’t take my calls.”

  Sage opened her mouth to argue and abruptly closed it again. Yeah, she couldn’t argue that point. “You wouldn’t talk to me so I went on to plan B.”

  Sage looked past him, to a painting on the far wall, and Tyce followed her gaze. It was the back view of a ballerina but unlike Degas’s pretty, perfect renditions of the dancers, Tyce’s piece was full of angst, accurately capturing the pain and persistence a dancer went through to achieve perfection. The dancer, dressed in a grubby tutu, her hair falling out of her bun, was massaging her toes, fatigue and pain radiating from her. It was one of his early pieces but emotion poured from it. It was good, he supposed. Not great, but good. Tyce idly wondered when Sage had bought it and why. He knew that she loved ballet but it wasn’t, after all, a Degas, an artist whose work she could afford.

  “Tell me about your sister,” Sage commanded, her eyes clashing with his.

  “What do you want to know and why?” Tyce asked, lifting an eyebrow at her imperious demand.

  “Well, you want us to meet her. What does she do? What is she like?”

  Tyce thought a moment, wondering what to say. He adored Lachlyn but he wasn’t in the habit of talking about her. Or his family. “Uh...eight years younger than me. She’s an archivist.”

  “Really? Does she enjoy her work?”

  Tyce’s mouth softened into a smile. “She loves it. She’s history, and book, crazy.”