Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [47]
She had filled one suitcase and was halfway through with the second, when there was a knock on the front door. That would be Johnny. She started to call out for him to come in, when she realized that she had locked the door. “Just a minute, Johnny.” She hurriedly crossed to the door to let him in.
Michael Donovan brushed her aside and strode into the cottage. He crossed to the open bedroom door, and, with a raking glance, took in the open suitcases and the hurried preparations for departure. He turned slowly, and Brenna flinched at his furious expression and blazing eyes. In their short acquaintance she had seen him angry many times, but never like this. He looked like a dangerous animal ready to spring.
“Johnny won't be coming,” he said softly. “I told Paula I would attend to everything.”
Brenna bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “Does Paula always act as a spy for you?” she asked shakily. The sight of him had been a shock that threatened to vanquish the little control she still had over her emotions.
“Not always,” Donovan said harshly. “Let's just say, she knew I'd be interested in your little emergency!” His leashed anger broke through it's bonds. “My God! That bastard only had to get you alone for an hour, to make you go running back to him like a bitch in heat. Don't you have any pride or self-respect? The son of a bitch got you pregnant and then deserted you!”
She was stunned. He actually thought she was running to Chadeaux instead of away from him. The ridiculousness of the surmise seemed wildly funny in her desperate state, and she laughed hysterically.
It was a mistake. In two strides he had reached her, his hands gripping her shoulders brutally as he shook her. “Shut up, damn you!” he rasped, his eyes like hot coals in his white face. “Do you think I'm just going to let you walk away from me? You're not going to him. I'll stop you any way I can.” His eyes were tormented as they ran over her contemptuously. “Look at you. You couldn't wait to get rid of me, so that you could dress up for him. Did it work? Did he think you were even more beautiful than he remembered? Is that why he asked you to come back to him?”
“No! no! You've got it all wrong. I'd never do that. I couldn't.” Tears were running down her cheeks as the last of her fragile control vanished. “I hate him,” she said brokenly. Suddenly she collapsed against him, clinging to his rock-like strength with desperation, her body wracked with sobs.
Donovan was frozen with surprise for a long moment, and then his arms went slowly around her to hold her securely. “Then why are you going back to him?” he asked bluntly. “Does he have some kind of hold on you? For God's sake, tell me what's wrong, Brenna.”
“He wants Randy,” she said baldly. “He's going to take Randy away from me.” She stepped back reluctantly from that magically warming embrace, and immediately felt alone and vulnerable again. “I was trying to run away from him,” she said wearily.
“You were also running away from me,” Donovan said coolly. “And any chance you might have for a career. Do you think any film-maker in the business would take a chance on you again, once it got around that you'd run out before the picture was finished?”
“No, I guess I didn't think at all,” Brenna admitted huskily. “But I still would have done the same thing if I had. I can't let Paul Chadeaux get his hands on Randy.” She wiped her eyes childishly with the back of her hand.
“No one is going to take your child away from you,” Donovan said with conviction. “I won't let them. If you had come to me instead of flying into a panic, I'd have told you that.”
She shook her head ruefully at the sheer royal arrogance of the man. It would not happen, because Donovan did not will it so. Long live Michael Donovan. In spite of herself, she couldn't