All He Needs (All or Nothing) (34 page)

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Authors: C.C. Gibbs

Tags: #Fiction / Romance - Contemporary, #Fiction / Romance - Erotica, #Fiction / Erotica

BOOK: All He Needs (All or Nothing)
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Faithless prick.

His agenda, his entire life, was always purely selfish; damn the rules and norms and common courtesies. If he wanted something he took it. Not this time though, not with her. A faithless prick wasn’t good father material. No more than Dominic had been good Prince Charming material.

But his numerous shortcomings didn’t mean she wasn’t going to eat all that really great food stacked in her fridge. She had to think of the baby, not just her own bitter, woman-scorned resentments.

A few blocks away, Dominic had talked himself into a more reasonable frame of mind, shortly after he’d returned home and put his plan B into operation. Smother her with kindness, show her he could be whatever she wanted him to be, take care of her and the baby. No way he was giving up after he’d been waiting three months to have her in his life again. Although now, with a baby in the picture, they were past any kind of casual arrangement. They’d have to marry—quickly. Which meant he was going to have to grovel big-time.

But, hey, whatever it took.

He half smiled. A woman who didn’t want him, though. That was new. Different.

He’d have to rethink his game plan.

Very late that night when Kate was almost asleep—sedated as she was from a wonderful dinner and two servings of rice pudding—Dominic texted her.
Did you enjoy the food? My chef was asking. And if you have any menu requests, just let me know. I had rice pudding for dinner. How about you? Sleep well, baby.

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t text
Don’t
either.

Dominic noticed, but waited another hour just in case.

Then he smiled and poured out the rest of the whiskey he’d been drinking.

He had to stop overimbibing. He was going to be a father. And he refused to be a fucking asshole like his father. So temperance and sobriety were on the docket. No more bottle or two every night, no more hotheaded anger, no more temper tantrums.

And since he had only two weeks to change Katherine’s
mind about taking him back, doing it completely sober would set a better tone. He wanted her to be happy with him again, maybe even a little in love again, because she really should be a willing participant when he married her the second his divorce was final.

Because their wedding was inked in on his calendar whether she was willing or not.

THIRTY

D
ominic’s campaign to win back Kate’s affections was of Napoleonic proportions, but then he had both the resources and intensity of a revolutionary general. He had two weeks to secure his objective and failure wasn’t even a consideration.

Max had men monitoring the doctor’s activities in Rome, the attorney in Paris was on call, and a judge was ready to sign the divorce decree. Gora was in Rome as well, awaiting the birth of his son. All the outside actors were under scrutiny and on pause, biding events.

Dominic had talked to Melanie last night and asked a favor of her. That morning, he’d just finished speaking to a wedding planner Liv recommended, stipulating at the onset that their discussion was to be kept strictly private. He’d received a haughty glance, as if he’d accosted the elderly woman, and barely concealing her affront, she’d said, “Everything we do, Mr. Knight, is done in complete confidentiality. Our clients demand it.”

“Perfect,” Dominic had said, not sure he dared smile when she had her nose in the air like that. But he chanced it anyway and added as insurance, “I may not have mentioned it, but I’m more than willing to pay a premium for your advice when our time frame is so limited.” That brought a smile to her face and confirmed the age-old principle: money talks.

His wedding plans
en train
—all final decisions Katherine’s of course—he waited for his next appointment. The matter with the jeweler was quickly settled. The man was to assemble an assortment of his best diamond rings and have them ready to show to Katherine. “I apologize for the short notice,” Dominic said. “I hope it’s not a problem.”

For the price Dominic was paying, problems were nonexistent. And the jeweler expressed that sentiment with affable warmth. After the man was shown out, Dominic had his car brought around and set off on an unprecedented errand.

Meanwhile Kate was lying in bed eating chocolate cake because dessert after a completely nutritional breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, and fruit was certainly allowed, even under her new health regime. And she’d skipped coffee and had only chocolate milk this morning. So whether it was her sizable intake of chocolate that gave rise to her euphoria or the fact that Dominic’s staff had cleaned her entire flat yesterday, she was sleeping on freshly ironed sheets, had showered in her bathroom that now contained stacks of washed towels instead of piles of dirty ones, or simply the fact that being taken care of was… well, really sweet and she wasn’t as angry with Dominic as she had been.

Stupid, she knew. The man was Svengali after all.

Still… and it nearly killed her to think it—she missed him.

A short time later, Dominic was standing outside a shop on Marylebone High Street waiting for the shopgirl to get her key to work in the door. He’d depended on Liv for all his recommendations, including this very small store selling
children’s clothes. He was about to impatiently say,
Good Lord, let me do that
, when the girl finally managed to turn the key in the lock. She was completely flustered by the presence of the stunningly beautiful man who’d been waiting for her when she arrived. If only she’d worn a nicer dress, she was wistfully thinking, spent more time on her hair, put on more dramatic makeup.

Although once inside the shop, it was Dominic’s turn to be befuddled. He’d never set foot in a children’s clothing store. His gifts for Melanie’s children had always been toys. So he stood just inside the door, surveying the minimal space and the glass case in the middle of the room filled with tiny, colorful, handmade shoes. He wondered what it was that he needed and wanted and how to ask for those things without revealing his identity. The tabloids would have a field day with this photo.

He came awake from his daze at the sound of a throat being cleared and a timid, “May I help you, sir?”

“I need baby clothes,” he said gruffly. “If you could show me some,” he added more graciously, “I’d appreciate it.”

What a lovely deep voice. “Do you have anything special in mind?” she asked, hoping he’d smile and say
You.

“No, no—ah—I’m not sure.”

There was a small silence.

“Is it for a boy or a girl?” the young lady asked, because clearly the gorgeous rock star in her shop didn’t have a clue what he wanted. Dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket so supple it looked like silk, with his dark, ruffled hair curling softly over his jacket collar and his long-fingered hands flexing slightly, he was seriously doable.

“The baby’s—not—” He took a small breath.

“Not born yet?”

He nodded.

“Something for a newborn then.”

Dominic blew out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Exactly. That’s what I need. No blue or pink. Something neutral.”

“White is always nice,” the pretty blonde said, knowing she’d be posting this on Facebook as soon as he left the shop. “This way, sir.” Lord, she wished she dared take his picture, because her friends would all be green with jealousy that she’d breathed the same air as him.

Dominic followed her to a rack on the wall where tiny little garments hung on tiny little hangers. As she took them out one by one and held them up, he said yes or no, mostly yes, or asked a question that made it plain he knew next to nothing about newborns. He bought everything she had that wasn’t blue or pink, gave her a company credit card that didn’t help her at all in terms of his identity or even in terms of the company name. She’d never heard of Green Infinity Industries. As for his signature, no one could possibly decipher it.

“I need everything boxed and wrapped—ribbons and that sort of thing. Not individually, a few larger boxes perhaps. Someone will pick them up this afternoon. Thank you very much,” he said with smile. “You’ve been a great help.”

A really dazzling smile, she thought with a sigh, watching him from behind the counter until he slid into the backseat of the swank black car.

Dominic briefly considered buying maternity clothes but wasn’t quite up to entering that arena, feeling slightly intimidated for the first time in his life. Not that he wouldn’t do it, if that’s what Katherine wanted. He was in full accommodation mode.

Which reminded him. Flowers. Was that too trite? Too clichéd? Maybe something small, delicate, sweetly scented. What was that fragrance that reminded him of Katherine? Did she wear perfume? Jesus, why hadn’t he paid attention?

In the end, the young woman in the flower shop near his home suggested lily of the valley with tiny white roses, the small bouquet tied with a white silk ribbon. He carried it to Katherine’s flat, let himself in, chatted with his staff, who were there cleaning and doing dishes and laundry, placed the simple crystal vase on her bedside table, set a small sealed envelope beside it, and, stepping back, smiled.

Fuck, it felt good just to be here again.

Strange how happiness could be so simple.

When Katherine walked into the flat after work, she wasn’t surprised to see the pile of packages on the foyer table and the chair, two larger ones on the floor. Beautifully wrapped packages with white and yellow bows. Or she wasn’t very surprised. What she had to admit was that it pleased her, and that was slightly more difficult. She almost immediately called herself to task; Dominic just wanted something he couldn’t have. She was a challenge for him.

But when she walked into her bedroom to change into something comfortable, she saw the small bouquet on the bedside table and felt her stomach do a little flip-flop. Had he been here? As she approached the bed, she saw the note
and, picking it up, sat on the bed. Peeling the seal open, she pulled out the small card and read the two lines.

I’ll try to be a good father.

I’ll try really hard.

All my Love,

Dominic

Tears slid down her cheeks. She thought of his bleak, unhappy childhood during which neither parent cared and her heart ached for him, for this promise for his child, for the poignant sadness in that hope. And all her resentments melted away when they shouldn’t. When she should know better. When the thousand issues that still confronted them couldn’t be exorcised by hope alone. Falling back on the bed, she shut her eyes and let her mind go blank.

Everything was too complicated, the situation a total mess, any solution still fraught with difficulty.

She was too tired to deal with it now.

Then as if on cue Kate’s phone rang. The one on the bedside table. The number no one ever called.

Stretching for the phone, thinking it must be a mistake, Kate’s hello was tentative.

“Is this a bad time for you? Were you sleeping? This is Melanie.”

Kate shoved herself into a sitting position against the headboard. “No, I just came home from work. I was just resting for a minute.”

“How are you?”

“Fine,” Kate said cautiously.

“Don’t hang up on me now, but Dominic asked me to call you. He said you might hang up.”

“I’m too tired to make that decision.”

Melanie laughed. “Good. Then all you have to do is listen. Dominic told me about your good news. He’s thrilled, and I never thought I’d see him happy about having a baby. But he’s worried that you won’t forgive him… for everything that’s happened. So he asked me for help… and he never does that, not even when… well you know about all that when he was a kid. He’d come home from those ghastly sessions and I’d say, ‘Do you want me to hold you?’ and he’d always say no. Then he’d turn on the TV and watch cartoons. So I’d sit and watch cartoons with him. I think he liked that but he never asked. So you see, when Dominic is willing to ask me for help, he’s—well—desperate. So if you could see it in your heart to talk to him, I’d be pleased and I know he’d be over the moon.”

Kate’s heart had started racing as Melanie talked, but she said carefully, “I can’t picture Dominic over the moon about anything.”

“Believe me.” Melanie’s voice was subdued. “Dominic’s”—she took a breath—“I’ve never heard him like this before—at a loss. Alarmed enough to turn to me.”

“You know he’s married,” Kate said, a betraying little quiver in her voice.

“I also know it’s only temporary,” Melanie said quickly. “Dominic didn’t give me the details, but Matt knows and he told me Dominic had no choice.”

“Are you sure?” Kate wished she hadn’t sounded so wretchedly hopeful.

“I’m positive. Absolutely positive. Matt wouldn’t lie to me. And the child isn’t Dominic’s. Matt was emphatic.”

“Wow,” Kate breathed softly, wondering how crazy she was to feel like an overgrown child who had all her birthday and Christmas wishes come true at once.

“I expect Dominic hasn’t mentioned that he deals with some very strange and occasionally dangerous individuals. I’ve been aware of it for a long time. Apparently this situation was more untenable than usual. You might ask Dominic about it, although I’m not sure he’ll tell you. Matt’s that way. He doesn’t like me to worry. He runs into problems from time to time. When large sums of money are involved, some men resort to unsavory practices.”

“Jeez, even there?”

“You’d be surprised. But, truthfully, I don’t really want to know.” Melanie laughed softly. “There are times when I don’t mind being taken care of.”

“I know what you mean. Dominic’s been in full nurturing mode.”

“Well, good. You can use all the nurturing you can get right now. Are you having morning sickness?”

Kate sighed. “Unfortunately.”

“I might be able to help.”

The women talked for another few minutes, Melanie told Kate to call her with any questions about her pregnancy or anything else, and ended by saying, “Don’t be too hard on Dominic. He loves you. He actually said it. I almost fainted.”

THIRTY-ONE

K
ate heard the knock on the door.

But Dominic didn’t let himself in as he might have; he waited for her to answer.

And when she opened the door, she saw the boyish smile she only rarely saw, the one she suspected all the high school surfer girls had seen: his eyes creased with pleasure, the lazy curve of his mouth pure temptation.

“Hi.” He looked at her differently now, always searching for new clues in the mystery that was unfolding, although only the most subtle changes had occurred in her body—well hidden tonight in a pair of Mrs. Hawthorne’s kitten print cotton pajamas that he’d bought for Katherine in Hong Kong.

“Hi,” Kate said, breathless at the sight of him, like the first time she’d seen him in Palo Alto. He looked incredibly young, wearing jeans and a faded blue T-shirt with a peace sign. She was half in love with him again despite everything and she knew it.

“May I come in?” He dipped his head, his hair fell forward, he pushed it back behind his ears with his thumbs. “How are you feeling?” His glance drifted to her stomach.

“Good.” She held out her hand, because she wanted to more than anything. “I always feel good at night.” His large
hand closed around hers with the gentleness that always surprised her in such a large man, and she felt a small familiar warmth stir her senses.

“Thanks for inviting me in.” His blue gaze was clear, open, his voice nakedly grateful as he stepped into the foyer and shut the door.

“Thanks for all those.” Kate gestured at the pile of wrapped packages.

“You should open them.” He smiled. “It was quite a shopping trip for me.”

“I will later.”

He didn’t know if the word
later
was good or bad. Whether it meant later when he was here or later after he was gone. “I want to apologize for anything and everything, for all I did and didn’t do,” he said quietly. “For the things I said that hurt you.”

She was briefly silenced by the haunted look in his eyes. “I said my share of hurtful things too. Come on,” she said, tugging on his hand and moving down the hallway. “Talk to me.”

He’d never been so happy to hear those words. In the past if a woman said she wanted to talk, he’d always headed for the door. “Thanks,” he said again, really meaning it.

Kate gave him a sideways glance as they moved down the hallway. “You might change your mind about that. I’m going to ask you a lot of questions.”

“That’s okay.”

“Really?” Her surprise showed.

“Look, baby, I’m just so happy you’re letting me in, I don’t
care what you do. I’ve been in hell the last few months. Like the last time you were gone. So read me the riot act, I don’t care. I’m just going to say yes to everything you want.”

She stopped, looked up at him, her brows slightly drawn. “You’re freaking me out a little.”

He smiled. “Too polite?”

“Just a little bit.”

A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. “Maybe I’ll piss you off later when I tell you about our wedding plans.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, her nostrils flaring. “That’ll do it. Maybe I don’t want to marry you.”

“I’d really like you to, but just a second.” He dropped her hand, walked back to the packages, and pulled out a small shopping bag tied with a large white bow and a yellow-ribboned package. Coming back, he took her hand again, smiled with tantalizing languor, and said softly, “Where would you like to talk?”

“Don’t look at me like that.” She frowned. “This is a serious discussion.”

“The reception room then?” He was on his very best behavior.

“I call it a living room.”

“Perfect,” he said with a diplomatic smile. “Do I get to touch you or is this a separate chairs situation?”

“Separate chairs.” It was too easy to fall under his spell, to respond to that soft voice and warm smile, when she was teetering on the edge already. “You have a lot of explaining to do,” she said quickly, as if her treacherous senses needed a reminder of her vast suffering the last months.

“Ask anything. Really.”
Except for Gora. Openness had its limits.

But once they were seated across from each other, Dominic leaned forward, his gaze direct and animated. “Tell me about the baby first. I promise I’ll answer your questions afterward.” He held out his hand, twitched his fingers, and smiled. “I’m a bundle of nerves and excitement.”

Seeing him like that with a smile lighting up his face stirred up a cloud of butterflies in her stomach. But loving him wasn’t enough. She couldn’t forget that; every woman he’d ever smiled at wanted him. “I can’t tell you anything because I don’t know anything,” she said evenly, but her heart rate was rising despite her silent lecture. “This is going to be a steep learning curve for me.”

“Let me help you. Let me do whatever you need done.” He forced himself to stay seated when he wanted to get up, lift her up into his arms, and hold her for a decade or longer. “You shouldn’t have to do anything but sleep and eat and stay healthy. I’ll do the rest.”

“Please, Dominic.” She swallowed hard. “Slow down. We have to back up a little first.”

He took a small breath. “Okay.”

“Melanie called,” she began, watching him take that small breath, seeing the almost invisible flinch.

“I know.”

“She told me that Matt knows why you got married.”

“He does.” These would have to be minimum answers.

“But you can’t tell me.” She clasped her hands in her lap and went very still. “Or you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s just that I’d rather you didn’t know.” This was the scariest conversation of his life. He couldn’t lose her again. “Mainly,” he said, picking his words with great care, “I don’t want you frightened.”

“Maybe I’m not that easily frightened.”

He set his hands on his knees and studied them for a moment before he looked up. “I think you would be. Please, it’s almost over. I know how clichéd this sounds but please trust me on this.”

“Melanie said you sometimes deal with unsavory characters, that Matt does too. Is that what this is about?”

He nodded. “In your business, you see corruption too. Criminals, thieves, cons, large and small. Matt and I deal with corruption at a personal level, not once or twice removed, and not from behind a computer screen. Since you can’t help me on this, you’d only worry unnecessarily.” He leaned back, stretched out his legs, and stared at his sandaled feet for a moment. “Now that you’re pregnant,” he said quietly, “I want to protect you even more. In two more weeks this all goes away. Talk to Melanie. She’ll tell you to leave this kind of bullshit to Matt and me.”

“Two weeks? For sure?” She didn’t want to feel such relief or want him with such helpless longing. But then her insurgent psyche spoke up.
He wants to protect you, you idiot. How can that be bad?
She felt better, like chivalry might still exist, like maybe Dominic had some Prince Charming in him after all. “After two weeks, then things go back to normal?”

His gaze was teasing. “As normal as they are between
you and me.” He smiled. “You’re a real handful, baby, and I mean it in the nicest way.”

“Then maybe you should think twice. Maybe you should find someone more amenable. I’m sure the line of willing candidates is long. You don’t have to marry me just because I’m having your baby.”

As if
, he thought. “That sounds like I’d better get down on my knees.”

It was her turn to smile. “Tempting.”

“Hey. I’m not talking about sex, Katherine. I’m serious about this marriage.” And coming out of his chair, he picked up the small shopping bag and package, closed the distance between them, sank slowly to one knee, and put the bag in her lap. “Open it,” he said. “Please?” he quickly added, because he’s spoken a shade too bluntly and her mouth had started to purse. “Sorry. Really. Give me a break. I’ve never done this before.”

She blew out a breath. “Me either.”

For a few moments only the sound of ribbons sliding and paper crinkling broke the silence.

Kate looked inside the bag and went motionless.

Why did he suddenly feel as though he were standing in front of a firing squad? “Take your pick, baby,” he said, velvet soft, as if too loud a sound would startle her from her trance. “Or take them all. I didn’t know what you’d like.”

She still didn’t move.

Christ, he could hear the bolts sliding back on the rifles.
“Don’t break my heart, baby,” he whispered.

The look in his eyes almost made her cry. This was a
man who never asked anyone for anything, who had faced every adversity alone.

She put her hand in the bag, saw his shoulders relax, saw him slowly smile, and knew what loving someone meant. It meant taking away a young boy’s hurt, laughing at a strong man’s smile, closing your eyes when he touched you because you were melting inside. She smiled faintly. Or having him line up little boxes on your pajama-clad legs as you take them out and hand them to him. But even loving him with all her heart, she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “So much, Dominic.”

“Not really,” he replied casually. “I left most of them at home.”

“Oh God, Dominic.”

“Come on, baby. If I have to learn to be more open with you, you have to learn to deal with my money. It’s yours too. Okay?” He stared at her, gave her a small smile. “Okay?”

She took a breath, swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“See, it’s not so easy to change is it?” he murmured, beginning to open the ring boxes. “But we’re going to do it. Come on, baby”—he touched her bottom lip gently—“we can do anything, you and I.”

She nodded, slid her fingers over his hand. “It must be the baby,” she whispered. “I feel like crying every second.”

“Cry all you want. I’ll buy a tissue company. You’ll never run out.”

She laughed.

“Hey, I mean it. Melanie cried all through her pregnancies. But pick out a ring first, then I’ll show you my love letter, then you can cry.”

She looked at him in surprise. “You wrote a love letter?”

“Yup.” Then he opened each box, slid the rings on her fingers—one through ten, all enormous diamonds.

She looked at the glistening display, bit back her comment about the outrageous expense, and pointed. “This one.”

His eyes glinted with pleasure. “I was hoping you’d say that. It’s my favorite too.”

The diamond solitaire was a forty-carat, D-flawless, emerald-cut stone that had just come on the market. A rare jewel the likes of which appear in the cutting rooms perhaps once every ten years.

Sliding off the other rings, Dominic casually dropped them on a nearby table, then turned back. Taking her hand in his, he said with ceremonial formality and a more typical breathtaking smile, “Would you do me the honor of marrying me, Miss Hart?”

For a second Kate was overcome by the immensity of the question and the smaller fear that she loved him too much. That he was too easy to love not just by her, but by every woman.

Months past questioning his feelings, Dominic put his hand to his ear and grinned.

A big breath, an answering smile. “Yes,” Kate said.

Leaning forward, Dominic touched his forehead to hers and whispered, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” she said as softly.

“The pleasure is all mine, baby.” He cupped her face lightly, then sat back on his heels, picked up the small package, and put it on her lap. “Just look. See what you think.”

He watched her unwrapping the package with an uncharacteristic restlessness. “You can tear the paper,” he said and proceeded to do just that. Tossing the wrapping aside, he nodded at the small box.

“This?” she said teasingly.

He lifted his brows ever so faintly. “Are you looking for a spanking?”

“Maybe.”

“And maybe I’ll give you one if you open that.”

“How can a girl refuse?”

“No shit.”

She punched him.

“I was referring only to you, of course.”

“Damn right you’d better be.” But she was smiling too, until a second later, when she lifted the lid on the box and her eyes filled with tears. The tiniest little onesie lay inside, white and precious and achingly beautiful. She lifted it up and sniffled, “How did you think of this?”

“How could I not? That’s all I think about. You, me, a baby, unimaginable happiness.” Reaching out, he brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I’m glad you like it. I bought everything they had that wasn’t blue or pink. I’ll bring in the rest of them later.”

“You must have made some shop clerk’s day.”

“Maybe. So long as I make your day, that’s all I care about.” Sliding his hands under her legs, he picked her up with ease and sat back down on the chair with her in his lap. “There are some cute little shoes made in France too—one pair is high tops in bright green leather. They’re for either boys or girls,” he added just in case. “I have no preference.”

“I thought every man wanted a boy.”

“It doesn’t matter to me. I only want to make you happy.”

“Is that why you wrote your love letter?” Her voice was buoyant, her gaze sunshine bright. “I’ve never had a love letter before.”

“Then we’re the perfect pair because I’ve never written one before.” He reached back, pulled a folded envelope from his jean pocket, and handed it to her. “Don’t judge me too harshly.” He smiled a slow, lovely smile. “It’s an amateur effort.”

She opened the envelope, pulled out the single page, and unfolded it; Dominic’s script was bold and vigorous as ever, like the man himself.

He watched her read what he’d written on the plane and given to Max when he wasn’t sure he’d survive his meeting with Gora. He’d always been fatalistic, indifferent to his future. That was the first time he’d cared whether he lived or died.

Dear Katherine,

By some great act of fortune, you’ve been brought into my life and I find myself in the unlikely position of caring deeply about another human being. For the first time. For the very first time. And I am overcome with fear.

If I don’t return, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart, my soul such as it is, and my once purposeless spirit—that now has purpose. I only knew hopelessness before I met you and now
I know hope. You’ve given me my life. And for that and a thousand other nameless wonders, I love you.

With you always in my thoughts,

Dominic

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