Page 21 of Flynn
“Would you like me to?” His expression was bland, but amusement lurked in his amber eyes.
“No, I don’t appreciate you coming in and assuming you could take charge of me. I can damn well take care of myself.”
“I am sure you can,” he countered smoothly as if trying to appease her anger. “But I am here, and my baby is causing all the worries.”
“I am not complaining.” She grumbled, taking several more sips of the tea and feeling somewhat mollified. Besides, she had to admit that it felt beautiful for once, just having someone care for her.
She had grown accustomed to doing things for herself. She was independent, and nothing was wrong with that. Glen had made subtle references to the fact that she had such a heavy workload and hinted that it would have to change when she was his wife.
“Good.” Moving away from the window, he came and pulled up a chair in front of her. “I am here,” he told her soberly. “Because I want to be.”
Ryleigh felt as if she were drowning in his eyes' liquid gold. Sliding her gaze away, she stared down into the swirling warmth of the herbal tea.
“Why are you doing this?”
His deep voice had her looking at him.
“Doing what?”
“Being a surrogate?”
Her tapered brows lifted. “Isn’t that a little too late to wonder about that?”
“It is, but I never had the chance to inquire about the reason. Why?”
She shrugged and took several more sips of the tea, and he waited expectantly.
“I wanted to help Julia.” She rolled her eyes at the skeptical look on his face, and he had to bite back a laugh.
“Try again, and this time, do your best to be more convincing.”
She tried to stare him out of countenance, but when that did not work, she seized on a topic engineered to distract him: “You know Judge Grayson.”
His thick eyebrows lifted, letting her know he realized what she was trying to do.
“Okay, fine.” She grumbled. “I needed something to take my mind off - off things.”
“By things, you mean the fact that the asshole you were engaged to prefer men?” he asked bluntly.
Ryleigh felt like she was drowning in humiliation and wishing she was elsewhere. Lifting her chin, she eyed him squarely. “Yes, that’s it in a nutshell.”
“So, how do you think this is going to work?” he persisted, making her want to pour the rest of the tea over his expensive silk sweater. “You are hoping that carrying a baby who, at the end of nine months or thereabouts, will be handed over to someone else, which is me, then what? You go ahead and become a surrogate for someone else?
Are you going to make this your thing now?” He was ruthless, but the thought of her carrying someone else’s seed inside her was making him ill for some reason and very upset.
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered.
Feeling disgusted with himself, he pushed away and stood up. He was about to say something, make some sort of apology, when the doorbell sounded.
“That should be the food.” He turned and strode from the room, leaving her shaken and upset. How dare he question her like that? Who the hell did he think he was? She had decided on this and was doing him a favor.
Where the hell did he get off, passing judgments? She was going to tell him to go away. She certainly did not need his help and was perfectly capable of caring for herself. And besides, she wanted to be alone to think, ponder, and perhaps sleep.
She heard his footsteps on the hardwood floor and realized he was approaching the kitchen. She did not want him to help her anymore; he could just leave her house and go on his business. With that in mind, she put the tea away and struggled to get up when she felt the room spinning.
“Oh crap.” She whispered, grabbing for the top of the chair. He chose that moment to walk into the room with a bowl of the most delicious-smelling soup.
“What is it?” Finding a place to put the soup down, he rushed over and quickly avoided the hands she was using to push him away, scooping her into his arms. “Dizzy?”