First Love...Only Love:

Chapter 20

Macy wanted to die of embarrassment...and shame. Though somewhere in the recesses of her mind and heart, she was glad that finally, Twain knew.

She wiped her mouth with the towel. 'W___what are you doing in my bedroom?'

'Answer my question, Macy,' he gripped her shoulders angrily. 'How far are you?'

'You know we had sex  six weeks ago Einstein. Do the math!'

'Why have you kept it from me?' he demanded.

'I don't know Twain,' she hissed. 'Maybe because I hate the way you want to rule my life!'

Twain was immune to her angry vent. Pride and jubilation washed over his face.
'You're carrying my baby,' he hugged her, pressing his lips to her temple. One could safely say he was in a state of euphoria. Twain hoisted her into the air. He walked to the settee, sunk down with her still in his arms. 'Macy, I'm ecstatic,' he ravished her with kisses.

'I'm not,' she wrestled him, until she escaped out of his arms.

'Why?' He stood up, dejection replacing his earlier display of elation.

She glared at him. 'You would think after one unplanned pregnancy, I would err on the side of caution!'

Twain laughed heartily. 'I am delighted, darling' he clapped his hands. 'I wouldn't mind four more children,' he lifted her into his arms again, and twirled around with her.

'Not with me___.' She smacked his hands. 'Put me down.' Her stomach was still queasy, she quickly sat down.

'So you're giving me permission to umm...play the field,' he teased.

Hell no!
'Whatever Romeo,' she feigned indifference.

Twain threw his head back and laughed, not believing her unresponsiveness for a second.

'Put your feet up,' he lifted her legs onto the settee. 'And I will never allow you such liberties,' his voice became deadly serious. She knew that without him having to issue his warning. But his eyes were filled with gentle concern as he took the towel and brushed it over her face.

'And how dare you come into my bedroom? Were you hoping to seduce me?' Her eyes narrowed irritatedly. That was so unfair, considering she had tried to seduce him last night. And more importantly, he had been the perfect gentleman, comforting her, yet holding his own desire at bay. Shameless truth be told, she had hoped last night Twain would come to her bed, the door had been unlocked, but he hadn't. Her face flushed guiltily. If only he could know how much she wanted to sneak through the door that connected her suite to his and climb into his bed last night. It was only the fact that Parker was in the smaller room, in her suite, that she did not want him waking up in a strange city, wondering where he was or why his mum was not there.

Twain looked away, but not before she saw the hurt in his eyes. She wanted to kick herself.

'Can I get you some refreshments?' He offered, 'toast? Tea?'

'No thank you,' she mumbled, 'I need to check on Parker,' she brushed past him.

'Hey Parker,' Macy smiled, rushing into the lounge of her suite, to find her son sitting anxiously at the table.

'Are you going to die mum?' Tears were streaming down his cheeks.

'No sweetheart,' she knelt down in front of him. 'No,' she murmured, wrapping her arms around him. 'I'm fine now,' she smiled.

'I ___ called Twain, when I heard you being sick in the bathroom,' he confessed. You' didn't look well mum, like you're in a lot of pain when you clutched your tummy and ran to the bathroom.'