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Gray looked down and realized that it was indeed his phone that was ringing.
“The rules don’t apply to me.” He grinned, scraping back his chair as he stood and lifting his mobile to his ear. “Keep working, I’ll just be a minute,” he called over his shoulder, swiping the phone as he left the room. “Fortescue.”
Silence greeted him. He frowned, pulling the phone away and looking at the number. He didn’t recognize it, but this was his private line. Only a handful of people could reach him here.
“Hello?” He tried again.
He was about to hang up when a small voice permeated the silence. “Grayson. It’s Abby.”
He froze, staring straight ahead without seeing, his mind firing into a thousand directions even as his body responded in a visceral way, tightening him, putting him on alert, making him crave her with an urgency that caught him off guard.
“I wasn’t sure of the exact dates, but you said you come to the city every month or so. And it’s been a month since we – saw each other. Are you here?”
He closed his eyes on a wave of feeling. Just hearing her voice reminded him of the power she had over him. It was a power he’d run from two years ago, a power he’d been forcibly reminded of a month ago, when he’d seen her and completely lost his mind. She was addictive. He was addicted. He ground his teeth together, refusing to allow that weakness into his life. He was a loner, and always would be.
“Yeah. I flew in yesterday, actually.”
“Oh.”
She sounded almost disappointed.
“Not the answer you were looking for?”
Her laugh sounded odd. Fake. Nervous. He frowned, as suspicion began to dawn. He’d given her his number for one reason, and one reason only. That didn’t preclude her using it for another reason, say, a booty call, but somehow he just knew that wasn’t what was going on.
“Are you free at all today? We need to talk.”
It was further confirmation of what he feared.
She was pregnant.
His stomach rolled and sweat broke out on his brow. The idea of having put a baby in Abby was disastrous, even when some ancient, primal instinct was beating his inner caveman chest, proud as all hell.
“I can meet now. Where?”
She expelled a shaky breath. “Now?”
He didn’t intend to live with the executioner’s blade hanging over his head.
“No time like the present, right?”
“Oh, um, okay. What about Irvine’s?”
She named a diner a block away from his New York penthouse.
“Sure. I’ll be there soon.”
He disconnected the call with a conflicting tangle of emotions. Doom, at the certainty his life was about to change. And a hint of excitement at the prospect of seeing Abby again, even under these circumstances…
Chapter4
SHE’D DECIDED TO DO this minutes after he left her apartment, and she’d had four weeks to prepare, but that didn’t change the fact that seeing Grayson Fortescue stride into the little diner she’d chosen was like being bowled over anew. He was casually dressed today, jeans and a black t-shirt, aviator sunnies on his eyes which just served to draw attention to his square jawline and ridiculously seductive stubble. Beneath the table, she pressed her palms to her knees, wiping away the clammy perspiration that had formed while waiting.
He scanned the restaurant, lifting the sunnies off and using one arm to hook them into the V of his cotton shirt. The action was simple and routine. It shouldn’t have been sexy, but it was. Her heart stammered.
But in the past four weeks, she’d schooled herself on this, too. She couldn’t indulge her fantasies about him. She couldn’t let her desire for him puncture the need for rational heads right now. Charlotte deserved the best from her.
He located her within seconds, his expression giving nothing away as he cut through the crowded diner. Nerves jumbled through her. Should she stay seated? Stand? She swallowed a frustrated noise as she scraped back her chair and moved to the side of the table, an awkward smile on her face. Nerves birthed butterflies in her body, not contained to her stomach, they spread like wildfire, beating their wings against her veins.
