Chapter 2 - “YOU DARE HIT MY PREGNANT WIFE?”
Roman Calder did not look at Selene.
That frightened her more than anger would have.
He reached toward the marble floor instead.
His fingers closed around the tiny gold thimble lying among the crushed white rose petals.
For several seconds, Roman simply stared at it.
Nora saw his jaw tighten.
She remembered those hands differently.
Holding a chipped coffee mug in her apartment.
Repairing the loose latch on her kitchen window.
Touching her cheek on the one night she had allowed herself to forget that she was divorced, broke, grieving, and terrified of trusting another man.
That man had introduced himself only as Roman.
No surname.
No security detail.
No terrified rooms.
Now two armed men stood twenty feet behind him while the general manager of one of Boston’s most expensive hotels looked as though he might faint.
Roman lifted his eyes to Nora.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
His gaze dropped to her stomach.
Nora instinctively covered it.
Roman became perfectly still.
“Why are you doing that?”
She swallowed.
“Roman—”
“How far along?”
Selene’s expression changed.
The manager stared at Nora.
Roman waited.
Nora could hear her own heartbeat.
“Eleven weeks.”
Roman calculated immediately.
She saw it happen.
The last time they had been together had been twelve weeks earlier.
One rainy night after Celeste Bellamy’s funeral.
One night Nora had believed Roman was simply the quiet businessman who had spent two weeks coming into the small bakery where she ate after her laundry shift.
One night.
Then he had disappeared.
Not without explanation exactly.
He had called.
Nora had refused to answer.
Because the following morning she had seen his photograph on a newspaper website beside words like organized crime investigation, Calder family, federal inquiry, and suspected underworld connections.
She had blocked his number before he could explain anything.
Roman rose.
He seemed larger standing.
More dangerous.
Selene recovered enough to laugh nervously.
“This is ridiculous. She’s obviously lying.”
Roman finally looked at her.
Selene stopped laughing.
He removed his rain-darkened coat and handed it to one of his men.
Underneath was a charcoal suit cut so precisely that Nora suddenly understood how much of Roman he had deliberately hidden from her.
“Say that again,” he said.
Selene blinked.
“I only meant—”
“Say it again.”
Her lips parted.
Nothing came out.
Roman turned to Nora.
His voice softened.
“Did she hit you?”
Nora hated that everyone was watching.
“Yes.”
“Did she know you were pregnant?”
Nora glanced at the vitamin bottle.
Roman followed her eyes.
He walked to Selene.
She backed away.
Roman took the bottle from her hand without touching her.
Then he read the label.
Nora Bellamy.
Prenatal multivitamin.
His thumb froze over her name.
A dozen emotions seemed to pass behind his eyes, but his face remained controlled.
Then Roman looked toward the manager.
“Security footage.”
“Mr. Calder?”
“Preserve every camera recording covering this corridor, the staff locker room entrance, and every hallway Nora crossed today.”
The manager nodded quickly.
“Of course.”
“Call the police.”
Selene stared.
“What?”
Roman’s expression never changed.
“You assaulted a woman.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“And apparently searched an employee’s belongings.”
Selene looked around as though someone might rescue her.
Nobody moved.
She tried another strategy.
“My family owns this hotel.”
“Your family owns sixty-two percent.”
Selene frowned.
Roman reached inside his jacket.
One of the men behind him handed over a slim black folder.
Roman opened it.
“I purchased the remaining debt position at nine fourteen this morning.”
The manager’s face drained of color.
Selene whispered, “That’s impossible.”
“Your father knows.”
Roman closed the folder.
“He has known for forty-six minutes.”
An elevator bell sounded.
Everyone turned.
The doors opened.
Three attorneys stepped out first.
Then came two security officers.
Behind them walked an older man in a navy suit.
Edmund March.
Selene’s father.
He stopped when he saw Roman.
Then he saw Nora.
Then his daughter.
“What happened?”
Selene rushed toward him.
“Dad, this woman—”
Edmund raised one hand.
“Don’t.”
Selene froze.
Edmund looked at Roman.
“I came as soon as you called.”
Nora stared at Roman.
He had called him?
When?
Roman’s attention returned to her.
“Can you stand?”
“Yes.”
Nora tried.
Pain twisted low across her abdomen.
She gasped.
Roman moved before anyone else did.
One arm went around her back.
The other beneath her knees.
And suddenly Nora was against his chest.
The entire corridor went silent again.
“Roman.”
“I’ve got you.”
“I can walk.”
“I know.”
His voice was almost unbearably gentle.
“That isn’t the same thing as needing to.”
Then Nora saw something she had never seen in him before.
Fear.
Real fear.
Not for himself.
For her.
For the baby.
Roman carried her toward the elevator.
Selene stared after them.
“You’re embarrassing yourself over a maid.”
Roman stopped.
Nora felt every muscle in his body tighten.
Slowly, he turned.
“She isn’t a maid.”
Selene folded her arms.
“Laundry worker. Whatever.”
Roman stared at her.
Then he said the sentence that would travel through every floor of the March Grand before sunset.
“You dare hit my pregnant wife, and you’re still worried about her job title?”
Nora’s breath stopped.
Selene’s mouth fell open.
Edmund March went pale.
Even Roman’s men looked surprised.
Nora stared at him.
“Your what?”
Roman looked down at her.
For the first time since entering the corridor, uncertainty flickered across the face of the man everyone else feared.
He had just called her his wife.
They were not married.
Not even close.
Roman lowered his voice.
“I’ll explain.”
“You absolutely will.”
The elevator doors opened.
Roman stepped inside with her.
Just before they closed, Nora looked across the corridor.
Julian Vale was standing at the far end.
Her ex-husband had apparently arrived during the chaos.
He was staring at Roman’s arms around Nora.
But Nora barely noticed his expression.
Because Julian wasn’t staring at her face.
May you like
He was staring at the broken gold thimble still clutched in Roman Calder’s hand.
And Julian looked terrified.
