“If that’s what this is all about, Sutton, if you’ve come back here looking for a soft landing, looking for me to make you feel all better, I can’t give you that. I won’t.”
Sable found herself caught in Rafe’s dark eyes as he talked about “making it all better”. A euphemism that set off a plethora of memories inside her head—warm, tender, knee-melting memories—as if they’d been waiting to be set free.
She had to physically shake herself back to reality. “That’s not what I’m here for, Rafe. You can relax on that score, I promise. What I want...”
This was it. From here there was no turning back. She looked to Rafe, her past, present and future concertinaing till her throat tightened.
She fought past it, pressing her feet into the ground, firming up her foundations, as she said, “Rafe, I’m here because I want a baby.”
Rafe’s hand snapped back to his side as if burned. “You want—”
“A baby. Your baby.”
Now the words were finally out she breathed deeper than she could remember breathing in years. Lungs filling and emptying. Spilling glorious oxygen through her body, her brain, until she felt strong, light and, oh, the blessed relief.
“I don’t understand.”
When Sable realised Rafe was physically backing away from her, she reached out and grabbed him by the hand. His warm, brown, strong and scarred hand. Held on tight. Using it to anchor her.
“Rafe. I was hoping—I am hoping—that you will agree to be my baby’s father. Well, not ‘father’. Because I do know that kids are not in your life plan. It’s what makes this plan so beautiful. I want you to be my donor. I’m not asking for you to sleep with me. There would be doctors—”
“To sleep with you?”
“No! To take care. Of your sperm.”
He looked so pale, so stunned, it was almost funny. Though she knew that was the adrenaline making her feel giddy. She’d never been more serious in her life.
“It’s all very safe. Clinical. And quick. Especially on your part. Once you...do your bit, that would be it. I wish for nothing more—no financial outlay, no physical help, no visitation. Nothing. No strings. Not a single one.”
She was saying all the right things, all the things her research said might sway him, but she could tell she was making no headway.
Realising how tight she held on, she let him go. His hand whipped back, and he with it, putting even more space between them as he paced away from her.
Though he didn’t bolt. That was something. Right?
“Rafe?”
His back remained facing her. He had one hand on his hip, the other in his hair. Tugging. As if he was trying to yank his thoughts to the surface.
Sable moved a little closer still. “I know you never wanted kids, Rafe. And I always understood why, even while I struggled to accept it. That’s why we would never have made it. You and me.”
She could have sworn she saw him flinch. But then he didn’t move. He stood there. Breathing. Listening. His face turned just enough she could see his eyes were closed.
“Because it has been my dream since as far back as I can remember. No matter what else had changed in my life, that instinct, that yearning, has been a constant.”
He moved a little then, his eyes opening. His face turning. His strong profile her focus as she said all the words she had to say.
“So why I’m asking this of you? And not some random donor? Or any other man I’ve met since?”
Something shifted deep behind the daze in his eyes. A flicker of discontent. An echo of possessiveness. It sent a shiver down her sides. She shook it off. Focussed.
“I considered,” she went on. “Of course I did. I’m not here on a whim. My reasons for asking this huge thing of you are two-fold. Firstly, most importantly, you were so good to me, Rafe. I look back on that time with such fondness. Such gratitude. I would not be who I am if I had not had you in my life. But a baby, my baby—I’ve come to realise it’s something I want to do on my own. No outside pressure from interested parties, no raising by committee. Just me and all the love that I plan to pour into my kid.
“It’s all but fate for the women in my family to do this alone. My mother managed, in her own way. My grandmother too. I know I can take what they did right, and what I believe they could have done better, and I can do this well. This is my time, Rafe. It’s now, or never.”
Rafe’s eyes grew dark, his body a study in stillness. Then he turned. Slowly. Face first, then torso, then feet.
His jaw was tight, his eyes dark and apologetic.
He was going to tell her no.
“Sable—”
“Stop,” she said, moving in to quickly slam a hand over his mouth. “Just...think about it. For a day. Or two. I know you owe me nothing, not a single thing. If anything, I owe you. So much. Yet here I am. Asking. Even while knowing I’ve set myself up for ridicule, censure, rejection.”
Doom.
She closed her eyes, told her ex and his dodgy therapist to stay out of this. “It’s that important to me, Rafe. So please, think about it. And, as a bonus, once all is said and done I will walk away, and this time you’ll never have to lay eyes on me again.”
His breath blew hot against her palm, and ripples of heat rolled over her skin like creeping vines.
Slowly, a finger at a time, Sable removed her hand from Rafe’s mouth.
His nostrils flared as he licked his lips. His eyes drilling into hers.
And despite the intense emotion, she felt a curl of attraction so strong it
