God, he hated this. Hated the suspicion that had become second nature. Hated that he couldn’t just trust her.
“Find out everything about Margaret Chen,” he said. “Why she turned Natalie away. Whether there was any communication beforehand. Anything suspicious.”
“Already on it, sir,” Marcus replied.
He hesitated. “And about Ms. Spencer… the investigation you requested. The preliminary report should be ready by morning.”
Right. The investigation.
Carter had sent Natalie’s first name and the little he knew about her to his private investigator the moment he’d recognized her unconscious on the sidewalk, before he’d even known about the pregnancy. Just a gut instinct to know everything about the woman who’d haunted him for two months.
Now it felt dirty. Invasive. Like a betrayal.
Necessary, the cold part of his brain insisted.
You need to know who she really is.
“Send it when it’s ready,” he said, and hated himself a little more.
When he returned to the bedroom, Natalie had finished eating. She was standing by the window, arms wrapped around herself, staring out at the city lights.
She looked small.
Fragile.
Beautiful.
“Better?” he asked quietly.
She didn’t turn around. “Thank you for the food.”
“You should rest,” he said. “The guest room is made up. Or… you can stay here. I’ll take the couch.”
“I should go home.”
“Not tonight.” Carter moved closer, unable to help himself. “It’s late. You’re exhausted. Please just stay. One night.”
She finally turned to look at him, and the expression on her face gutted him.
It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t even hurt.
It was resignation.
Like she’d expected disappointment and he’d delivered exactly that.
“One night,” she agreed quietly. “But then I’m leaving.”
“We’ll talk about that tomorrow.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said. “You’ll do your test, get your results, and then—” She shrugged. “Then you’ll either believe me or you won’t.”
“Natalie—”
“I’m tired, Carter. Can you just show me where I’m sleeping?”
He wanted to argue. Wanted to explain about Vanessa, about the betrayal, about why he was this way.
But the exhaustion in her eyes stopped him.
“This way,” he said instead.
The guest room was down the hall, spacious and elegant, with its own bathroom and a bed that looked like a cloud.
Natalie walked in without a word, and Carter found himself hovering in the doorway like an idiot.
“If you need anything…”
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “There are clothes in the closet?”
