The Duke Takes a Bride (Entitled Book 2) (20 page)

J
ulian knocked then opened
the door without bothering to be acknowledged. Imogen tore her gaze from the screen of her mobile and gave a start at seeing him. Several magazines were scattered around her on the bed. She sat up.

“You didn’t eat much,” he said. “I can order you something more to your liking…”

“I’m fine. Thank you.” She grabbed her spectacles on the night table and jammed them on. “I can’t really eat that much at bedtime.”

“How’s the-” he cleared his throat, not sure how to pose his question. “How are you feeling?”

“The bleeding’s eased up a bit.”

He frowned. “You mean it hasn’t stopped?”

“Dr. Banks said as long as it doesn’t progress, there’s no cause for alarm.”

“Let’s go see him tomorrow. To be sure.” The next follow-up was several days away.

“We don’t have an appointment for tomorrow.”

“He’ll see us,” he said with conviction. Julian had donated a grant to fund several of Dr. Banks’ numerous research projects. He had the obstetrician’s private number on his speed dial. “If you need anything at all, Genie, please let me know.” He sounded like he was talking to a guest under his roof, not his own wife.

He pivoted, about to leave the room he hadn’t even fully entered, when her voice stopped him.

“Why did you come looking for me?” she asked softly. “After I left the penthouse?”

His tone was harsher than he had intended. “Why is that even a question?”

“Because I need to know the answer.”

“I was worried, damn it! I didn’t know where you’d disappeared to. Your phone was off. I called the hospitals, the police station-” His chest seized, remembering his escalating alarm and dread as he tried to find her and couldn’t. “Don’t ever do something like that again.” He raked a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry.” She thrummed the edge of the page of a magazine repeatedly. “I didn’t think—I didn’t mean for you to worry.”

You didn’t think I cared enough to go after you,
he thought bleakly. “The letter−” he started. “I told you we would talk.”

Her fingers stilled. “I just spared us the drama. I don’t do well with awkward scenes.”

“I noticed,” he said wryly.

“You’re the one to talk.” She turned to him, her eyes flashing. “You couldn’t even dump me straight to my face.”

“I wasn’t ‘dumping’ you.”

“Reassess the relationship? Space to think?” she scoffed. “I can read between the lines.”

Hell. This conversation was fast going downhill. “I panicked,” he admitted baldly.

She froze. “You panicked?”

That’s it. That’s how far he was going to go admitting his “feelings.” Cold sweat broke out on his skin. “That night−when you said-” he couldn’t say it. “When you said how you felt,” he was rambling,“I was caught off guard.” He stared into her eyes, pleading for understanding. “It didn’t feel right to be with you when I can’t,
couldn’t
give you what you needed.”

“Do you still feel that way, Julian?” she asked quietly.

He swore mentally. She tried to hide it, but he could see it. Hope. That this time would be different.

His voice was raw with the knowledge that he was still a coward. “It’s not in me. I just can’t go there again.” The fear, panic, and desperation when he couldn’t find her, waking up in the morning with that heavy dread on his chest – they were echoes of a time when he had woken up cold from the damp sheets, sobbing her name, running from a recurring nightmare that really only began upon awakening, realizing she was forever gone.

How could he explain that he was not going to invest in something that would eventually let him down? That if it failed, if he lost her, he would never recover this time around?

“Then why did you come after me?”

Why was she repeating the same damned question? What did she want from him? His soul? He decided to answer it in the way he knew would shut her up.

“For the baby, of course,” he tossed out casually. “An heir. That’s the only thing I need from you, Imogen.” He expected to see anger or scorn on her face. Instead, he saw the only thing he couldn’t stand from her. Pity.

He decided to wipe it off. “You think I went after you because I’ve fallen in love with you, is that it?” he jeered, his lips curling in contempt. She paled.
Stop, Walkden, before you say things you can never take back.
But it was too late to stop now.
He had to prevent her from trying to get past his defenses. He felt those defenses closing in on him, making him claustrophobic.

He steeled himself at the sight of her silent tears, held himself rigid as his own heart started cracking. “You’re wasting your tears.”

“Why can’t you give us a chance?”

She was damn full of questions he didn’t want to answer. The stricken look in her eyes was too much. The need to escape had become primal.

“You give chances to things that have a possibility of happening,” he ground out, his voice low and harsh. “It’s not going to happen, darling.”

Julian swept out of the room, slamming the door. He stumbled blindly to his study. His shaking hand reached for the bottle of whiskey. He settled himself in the chair behind his desk and wondered how long it would take to drown his self-loathing in alcohol.

It was going to be a long night.

I
mogen felt wrung-out
, like her ratty shirt that had been washed and squeezed until every drop of moisture had been leached from it. She knew words could hurt, but she actually felt physically battered and bruised by last night’s exchange. The only thing holding her together and giving her hope was the knowledge that Julian hadn’t known about the baby when he had rescued her that night from the bar. He had lied about it.

She had seen his wild expression when she had told him she was pregnant. A text to his brother confirmed that Gray hadn’t said anything about her condition to Julian prior to that night. Imogen had no reason to believe Gray would lie about it. It was to his favor if Julian never learned about her pregnancy, at all. The only mystery was why Gray had even told Julian where she was.

Had Julian actually thought she would buy into all his violent protestations about not being able to give her what she needed? She almost did, last night. His words made sure there wouldn’t be any doubt about him not being able to love her back. But Imogen replayed their conversation in her mind, and in the quiet of the night, she chose to listen with her heart.

She heard the layers of fear and denial through all that blustering. If he cared less, he wouldn’t be so voluble about not giving her what she needed. He was protesting too much.

Imogen exhaled heavily. She had to think that, or else she’d sink into despair. She wouldn’t give them up without a fight. Their baby deserved more from his parents.

A frantic knocking on her door gave her a start. It was ten in the morning. She had tossed and turned last night, her back aching from all the lying down she had been doing, and had overslept as consequence.

It was Mrs. Nero, wringing her hands and looking frazzled.

“What is it, Mrs. Nero?”

“Mr. Graham is here and Sir Julian is not pleased.”

Gray’s here?
Imogen had a bad feeling about it.

She threw the covers off the bed, stooping to find her slippers. The sudden movement made her cramp low on her belly.

“The
bambino
?” Mrs. Nero glanced worriedly to where she had laid her hand on top of her belly.

“He or she is fine.” The cramping was fleeting. She sighed in relief and followed Mrs. Nero out of her room. The housekeeper stopped outside the closed door of Julian’s study, her eyes growing wide in alarm at the raised voices inside.

Imogen flung the door open and stepped inside.

Julian not pleased was an understatement. He was livid.

“How long have you known where she was hiding?” His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a tangled mess. He was facing Gray down in the middle of the room. The younger, nattily dressed man was a contrast to Julian’s disheveled, unshaved appearance. He was shirtless. Of course.

Imogen spied a toppled, empty liquor bottle on the floor.

Gray was smirking and it didn’t bode well at all. “I didn’t know you were looking for her.”

“You didn’t know?” Julian said quietly, too quietly, and then he roared. “How the hell could you not bloody know? It was all over the stinking press!”

Imogen flinched at the thunder in his voice. With their ruckus, her presence hadn’t registered.

“She called me. Said you had parted ways and needed help finding her friend where she could stay for awhile.” He shrugged.

Julian looked murderous.

Oh, dear.

“But when I found out she was pregnant…” Gray trailed off, as if that explained everything.

“And you had no intention of telling me this important little tidbit before you so cleverly let me know her whereabouts?” Julian’s voice had dropped again. He was slurring just a little, and Imogen wondered how long the calm would last before the storm hit again.

“I didn’t want to interfere.” Gray shrugged again, but Imogen saw the devilish, calculating glint in his eyes. “Besides, I didn’t even know if the baby was yours.”

With an inhuman cry, Julian launched himself at Gray, who, unprepared for the attack, wobbled precariously and then fell like a lamppost to the floor.

“You fucking bastard!” Julian cried, straddling his brother. He was so drunk Gray managed to avoid the first blow.

“Julian! Stop it!” Imogen shrieked.

Julian lifted his head at the sound of her screaming, his maniacal eyes zeroing on her. Graham took the chance to try to shove his brother off him. Julian swung his attention back to his brother, managing to cling on to him like he was riding a rodeo horse. He lifted his arm to strike a blow.

“No!” Imogen rushed to stop him. In her haste, she stepped on the whiskey bottle on the floor. She landed with a strong, jarring thump on her back. “AArggh!”

Her cry of pain penetrated Julian’s fog of anger as he and Graham flew to her side, alarm etched on their faces.

The cramps came several hours later.

By the next day, she had lost the baby

“
Y
our allowance is not
due yet,” Julian said tonelessly as Gray entered his office. He shut the lid of his laptop. He’d been staring blankly at the screen for hours.

The whole building was deserted. It was past eight in the evening. Julian couldn’t bring himself to go home just yet. In fact, he couldn’t bring himself to go home for the last few days. Couldn’t bear to see her so silent, so devastated.

“Do you think that’s the only reason why I come and see you?” Gray approached the floor-to-ceiling window and stared out, keeping his back to Julian.

“Isn’t it?” he shot back.

Julian heard the derisive tone in Gray’s voice. “I earn more than that paltry thing you call my allowance.”

“Then you better say what the bloody hell you really came here for,” Julian snapped, “because I’m not in the mood for company.”

Gray turned around and faced him, his eyes glittering in the darkened office. “You never were in the mood for my company.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Julian bit out, rising from the chair in one angry movement. His despair needed an outlet and since he refused to drink, anger was his choice of poison. Anger was safer. Being angry was better than giving in to the black hole of depression that threatened to consume him. Being angry at Imogen for continuing to shut him out was better than begging on his knees trying to ask for her forgiveness, only to be turned away.

His footsteps were heavy and purposeful as he walked over to Gray. His brother stood taller than him by an inch or two.

“It doesn’t matter,” Gray dismissed.

“No. I think it does. Tell me,” he demanded.

“I said it doesn’t matter,” Gray said tightly. “I don’t have to do every bloody thing you say, Julian.”

Julian laughed, but it had a hollow ring to it. “When have you ever listened to what I’ve said?”

Gray looked at him unflinchingly. “I stayed away from Imogen when you told me to.”

His eyes strayed to the scar on Gray’s cheek. “You had to. I threatened to cut off your allowance,” he lashed out, hating his brother for bringing her name into the conversation.

Gray shook his head. “It wasn’t the money. You think Mother would have let me starve if I’d chosen to defy you?”

Olga was a lot of things, but she did love her son fiercely.

“I stayed away because I couldn’t bear the thought of coming in second with her.” Gray turned to the window once more. Julian couldn’t see his face, but he heard the pain in his voice. “She tried to hide it, but I knew. I kept looking at her and every bloody time you were around, she only had eyes for you.”

Julian didn’t want to hear this. Not now. “Gray, I don’t−”

“I didn’t come here to sob on your shoulder.” He attempted to sound flippant but failed. “I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry about the baby.”

Julian sighed and closed his eyes briefly. “It just wasn’t meant to be. I’m sorry, too, for losing control that day.”

“I deserved it. I was being an arse.”

Julian chuckled. It sounded rusty, but it was the genuine article. “That sounded like something I’ve said to Imogen before.”

Gray snorted. “What did she say?”

“She agreed. Then said I was twice an arse.”

They laughed together, the unfamiliar sound bouncing off the walls. Julian realized he had never laughed with Gray before. He had been carted off to boarding school before he had a chance to have gotten to know his brother. When he was in Trennery Court, he had been too busy pursuing his own thing, not bothering to spend time with his attention-seeking, spoiled brother. Perhaps if he’d managed to actually know him, he’d have been able to repair what Olga’s permissive parenting had wrought.
Ah, regrets.
How they always appeared in hindsight.

“About Lolita Andalus,” Gray cleared his throat. “You don’t need to worry about it. We hadn’t seen each other in years. What I’m meaning to say is the baby’s not mine.”

For once there was no defiance or belligerence in Gray’s eyes. “I believe you.” He sighed tiredly, wondering how to bridge the gap between him and his brother. “I may come across as dictatorial and overbearing at times,” Gray snorted again and Julian shot him a quelling look, “but I only wanted what’s best for you.”

Silence reigned for a few seconds. The brothers looked anywhere but at each other.

Gray swallowed. “Are we having a fucking moment?”

“Hell no,” Julian denied, but his voice was gruff.

“Well, I have to go. Stuff to do.” Gray thrust his hands in his trouser pockets and rocked on his heels.

It was an impulse decision. “There’s a very good steak restaurant downstairs. I was just heading down to grab some dinner. Care to join me?”

Gray blinked twice as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Yeah. Sure.”

Julian would force down every biteful of meat he didn’t feel like eating. “Fantastic.” He clapped Gray on the shoulder. It was awkward as hell, but Julian had to start somewhere.