Chapter 3

“You want us to get married? Why?” she asked, staring at him in shock.

He shrugged eloquently. “To give the kid a name and to avoid being disinherited by my father.”

She felt the despair coming over her again and wondered how much worse this could get! “This was not supposed to happen,” she said bitterly as if speaking to herself. “I was supposed to fall in love and get married and then get pregnant. How messed up is this?”

“Ah, you believe in fairy tales!” he said in amusement, noticing how long her lashes were. She had such thick curly hair, and he remembered burying his fingers in the surprisingly soft strands when he had tasted her lips over and over again. To his wry amazement, he felt himself hardening.

“I believe in love and happiness, Patrick,” she corrected him.

“We believe in being suitably matched, and it seems to have worked for my parents and others around us,” he told her cynically.

“That was why you were paired with Sophia McBride? Because of suitability?” she asked him coolly.

“Heiress to an ice cream empire and easy on the eyes. What more could a man ask for?”

“I can’t marry you,” she told him quietly.

“Why?” he demanded. “Because I am being honest with you?”

“Because I refuse to sell myself short,” she corrected him again.

“I am afraid you are going to have to settle for being incredibly rich and having everything at your fingertips,” he told her, his face set like a flint. “You are pregnant with a Copeland, darling, and we have a kind of power that not even the president has. My parents want to meet you and plan a wedding that will be called the wedding of the century.”

Carrie felt the tiny teeth of resentment and despair dragging her down! “And if I refuse?”

“We do not take no for an answer. You will find yourself up against powerful people.” He grinned at her suddenly, white teeth flashing in a tanned handsome face. “I am not such a bad catch, am I?”

“No, you are not, and apparently half the rich circles of women think so.”

“That should not concern you,” he told her smoothly. “I promise to be on my best behavior in the marriage, and besides, considering how we behaved that night we were at your apartment, I would be getting all my satisfaction in our bed!”

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The mansion towered over the high walls that surrounded the perimeters with high, wrought iron gates that admitted them as soon as he pressed something inside the car. The gates swung open, and she was greeted with the most amazing array of flowers she had ever seen outside of a magazine! The trees were well pruned, and even at that late hour of eight, there were men tending to some plants. The grass was well manicured, and the curving driveway seemed to stretch for miles before they came to a stunning stucco and glass building that sparkled in the light from the sun. Carrie stared up at the building in shock. “How many people live here?” she asked him, forgetting her situation.

“My parents and I and the number of household staff who live in one side of the place.” He got out, and a man materialized out of nowhere to take the keys from him and opened the door for her.

“Don’t put it too far, Frank, we leave in an hour,” he told the man.

“Right, sir.”

They went up to the large double doors which were opened by a maid in uniform. “Mr. Patrick, your parents are asking you to join them in the living room,” she said with a polite smile.

“Thanks. Shall we?” he said to Carrie with a thin smile.

She nodded, trying not to stare at the high white ceiling and the curving staircase. The place was a showpiece!