Free The Millionaire's Proposal by Janelle Denison Page B

length of her in a slow, deliberate search for clues, but the loose blouse and gauzy skirt she wore offered no help in determining her condition. He saw no real evidence to confirm the test he held in his hands—the one Grace was so anxious to steal back.
    Frustrated with her stubbornness, he decided it was time she learned what a formidable opponent he could be when it came to a battle of wills. “All I have to do is take this to the drugstore and ask the clerk which test it came from and read the instructions on the box to find out whether or not this little blue strip means positive or negative. I’m sure that would set some tongues to wagging, not to mention gossip flying. And then it would only be a matter of a month or two before rumor blossoms into fact,” he added meaningfully.
    Her gaze narrowed on him, loathing sparking the gold in her eyes. “You’re wretched, you know that?”
    “Wretched?” He raised a brow at her unflattering description. “I have every right to know the truth.”
    She huffed in exasperation, her full breasts rising and falling with the gesture. “I don’t know why you’d even care what that blue strip means!”
    His brows snapped together in offense. “Of course I care.”
    “Why?” Suspicious moisture shimmered in her eyes. “You made me no promises before we slept together.”
    He didn’t think it possible, but his heart hurt. “Grace . . .” He stepped toward her, but when she backed away, he stopped. “You can’t believe I’d ever disregard something so important.”
    “You lied and deceived me,” she pointed out, her voice wavering with emotion. “Of course I can believe you’re capable of just about anything.”
    Sighing, he scrubbed a hand down his face, belatedly realizing his mistake in keeping Grace in the dark about his return. “I never meant to hurt you, Grace. That’s something you’re just going to have to believe.”
    “I don’t know if I can trust you.” Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and her gaze dropped to the plastic stick that had caused so much contention. “Yes, it’s a pregnancy test,” she confessed quietly. “And the blue strip means it’s positive. The doctor confirmed it as well.”
    Feeling as though someone had pulled the rug right out from under him, Ford lowered himself to one of the chairs at the small oak table in the kitchen. He stared at the blue strip in bewilderment. “What happened to you not being able to get pregnant?”
    “Consider yourself exceptionally virile.” Her tone was droll.
    He glanced up, his mouth quirking with a smile. “I suppose that’s good to know, but I have to admit this is quite a surprise.”
    “No doubt,” she said bitterly. “Don’t worry, Ford, I don’t want or expect anything from you, except your silence that you’re the baby’s father.”
    Seeing the determined look on her face, a cold, hard knot formed in his stomach. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
    That chin of hers lifted. “I’m keeping my baby-”
    He stood, approaching her. “Of course you’re keeping my baby-”
    She stepped back, her hand resting protectively on her still flat tummy. “I’m raising my baby on my own-”
    He closed the distance between them, until he had her cornered between him, and the counter. “I’ll be damned if I let you raise my baby on your own.”
    She went on as if she hadn’t heard him, though the touch of nervousness in her gaze spoke volumes. “And it would make things much simpler if you just relinquished all rights as the baby’s father.”
    Fury boiled within him. “I’ll just bet it would,” he said in a dangerously low voice. Did she think he was such a monster that he’d abandon his own child and willing give up his parental rights? Well, she was about to learn exactly what a villain he could be. For him, there was only one solution to their predicament. An unnegotiable one. One she’d surely oppose.
    “We’re getting married,” he stated.
    She