Chapter Eight
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Samara bounced on her feet in an awkward, heavy dance as they stood outside his parent’s home in New York.
They had a brown stone, three story house that they barely visited, but with their grand-child’s impending arrival, they were currently residing in the same state as he was for once.
The door opened and Charles smiled at him. “Master Julian. So, pleased to see you, sir.”
Julian smiled at the man who his parents dragged all over the world to wait on them, and who never complained. “Hey, Charles. This is Samara. Samara, my parents most trusted man, Charles Werthing.”
They stepped into the house with Samara and Charles exchanging pleasantries.
He took Samara’s coat and she shook off the snow that had fallen on them in the short walk from the car to the house. “Goodness it’s cold.”
“This way.” He took Samara’s hand and led her into his parent’s main living room where they sat in front of the fire. The opulence of the room made him inwardly laugh. Compared to his half-renovated apartment, and Samara’s gorgeous little home, this mansion was outdated and stodgy.
“Julian.” His father greeted him with a nod and extended his hand.
“Father.” He shook his dad’s hand, feeling Samara’s keen eyes watching him. His heart stumbled a little and yet he was determined to be open with her. About what sort of family she was entering, and to give her some background on why he was who he was.
His mother finally stood up from her comfortable chair and approached them, her too tiny body making her look like one of those bobble-headed dolls.
You can never be too rich, or too thin… Yeah right.
“Julian, I’m glad you’ve finally brought Samara to meet us.” Her displeasure couldn’t be hidden in her tone, nor her words, and Samara the people pleaser jumped to fill the sudden void in the conversation.
“It’s lovely to be here, Mrs. King.”
“Well, let’s sit down.”
He took her hand again and pulled her on to the couch with him, his parents sitting in their usual chairs. There was more silence and Julian struggled to find a topic that wouldn’t set off one of his parents.
Samara shifted forward on her chair. “How is the Hawaii Hotel faring? Have either of you visited it since the summer?”
His parent’s faces scowled in unison.
“No, the humidity in Hawaii is terrible. We never visit that hotel,” his mother said.
His father’s gaze flicked to Julian. “That hotel was Julian’s responsibility.”
The weight of the words hung heavy in the room and Julian struggled to bite back the anger. He’d worked very hard over the past six months to right all the wrongs. Set the hotels, and their company, back on its feet.
And he’d heard from a private investigator that they’d found the embezzling, arse hole of a manager and were working on getting him deported. That would be a great day indeed.
“Yes, it was my responsibility and still is. The hotel is doing very well now.”
“Yes, thanks to Samara’s help. I was right to hire her,” his mother said to him as she lifted her nose several inches in the air.
“You were, Mother. She was a great help.” He stared back at her, strange ripples of bad feelings pulling at his nerves.
He’d become very good at schooling his features so that he didn’t give his parent’s the satisfaction of knowing he’d been hurt by their callous words. He’d tried so hard to win back their trust, if he’d ever had it in the first place. Perhaps their respect would never be possible.
Samara’s hand slid onto his knee and warmth infiltrated the coldness spreading through him like a cancer, the sunlight pushing back the darkness threatening to over whelm him.
“Well, I for one am extremely grateful for the fact that you called me, Mrs. King. I would never have met this wonderful son of yours, and I wouldn’t have this incredible baby growing inside of me.”
The happiness and dancing cadence of her voice made all three of them turn to look at her. Julian stared in wonder, the love that he’d sensed growing inside of him blossoming into a full bloom. She was incredible.
“When are you due, Samara?” His mother asked.
“The fifth of September, but I’ve been told any time after next week, really.”
Samara rubbed her belly and sat smiling at his parents, who struggled to look at her and make polite conversation.
Would they bring up a lack of marriage, or would his parents be able to restrain themselves?
“Our son tells us that you have no interest in marriage,” his father said, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Right on cue.
“Father!” Julian growled in warning, but Samara squeezed his thigh.
“It’s alright. To answer your question, no I’m not interested in marriage, at the moment. I think I would look ridiculous in a wedding dress.”
She grinned and Julian’s heart tugged hard in his chest.
“Does that mean that marriage is not out of the question? Because for our part, I would like to see our son settled with a wife and child as soon as possible.”
Samara grinned at his parents, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “But he was married, and that ended horribly. Why would you want to do that to him again?”
His mother scoffed with disfavor. “That was not a woman you marry. How he ever thought she was respectable, I will never know. You on the other hand are as different from her as summer is from winter.”
Julian stared at his mother, a lump forming in his throat. “Why didn’t you say anything back then?”
His mother sighed. “Because… How will I put this? She had you by the balls, and wasn’t letting go. I knew that the harder I pushed her away, the tighter you’d cling to her. So, I sat back and hoped she’d show her true colors before she got herself pregnant, and she did.”
There was a satisfied smirk to his mother’s lips that he’d rarely seen and he found himself smiling.
“Well, thank you for the insight, Mother. I believe I’ve chosen correctly this time.”
Samara scoffed beside him. “Chose me, huh? I think the Universe had everything to do with this, not you and your, ‘I am the master of my own destiny’, attitude.”
He turned on the couch and stared at her. “Samara, you know I don’t believe in that stuff.”
She twisted to look at him also, her fingers intertwining with his and gripping hard, the connection between them flowing like electricity. “Really? Well, what do you call it when I’d sworn off work for the year, but got pulled into your mother’s offer because of my parent’s debts? I got pregnant in a situation which should have been practically impossible.” She stared at him and he remembered the hasty pull out in a pool. Yes, definitely low odds, even taking out the fact that she was practically infertile. “Then we have a love affair, break it off, then you hunt me down, which I bet you’ve never done in your life. Gone after a woman who rejected you.”
He heard his parent’s strange gasps, but he kept focusing on the woman in front of him.
“You…may have a point there.”
“I do. So, don’t sit there and believe this isn’t meant to be. It is.” She nodded once at him, her face strangely serious, then turned back to his parents.
The rest of the visit passed quickly and Julian couldn’t stop thinking about everything she’d said. Did Samara really believe they were meant to be?
They finished their drinks with his parents, rugged up against the New York winter, and ran back to his waiting town car.
“Seriously. I can’t wait to get home.” Samara shivered against him and slid into his side, pressing as close as she could. “Your parents are so cold! Worse than this snow practically.”
He wrapped his arm around her and squeezed. “I told you they weren’t exactly your type of people.”
“Now I know why you don’t have a good relationship with them. They’d be impossible to keep happy.”
“They are.”
He held her tight and finally pulled away, his brain whirling around in a massive tornado of words as it struggled to comprehend everything she’d said. “Hey, Samara, did you mean what you said in there?”
She turned to look at him. “I usually mean what I say, but I was being a bit forceful at times, because of how odd your parents were being. Which bit do you mean?”
The words tangled on his tongue and he struggled to get them out. She waited and he was grateful for that. “The bit about us being meant for each other.”
She glanced down and away, toying with her coat with her slender fingers. “Well…sort of. Why?”
He reached over and cupped her jaw, drawing her face back to look at him. “Why? Because I want to marry you. If you love me, and I love you, why shouldn’t we share everything that is possible for us to share?”
Her beautiful blue eyes went wide as she stared at him. She wasn’t saying anything and his belly sunk with the realization that she may not have meant that much.
“What’s wrong, Samara?”
“Did you just say that you love me?”
If he’d been a cartoon, someone may as well have come along and banged him on the head with a frying pan. Had he said that? Why, yes he had. “Yes.”
He waited, unsure on where this would go or how she felt about him. On uncertain ground for one of the first times in his life, he waited, as the driver took them through the crowded streets of Manhattan.
Tears leaked from Samara’s eyes and she grabbed for a tissue, wiping them away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She sobbed, her face going as red as her coat.
He grabbed her hands and stared into her eyes. He’d never proposed with anything other than the baby on his mind. Perhaps it was time to tell her that things had change, he’d changed. And there was no going back.
“Samara Jenkins. You are the most courageous, fun, crazy, beautiful woman I have ever met. I am so proud to have you by my side, the mother of my child.” He paused to run a hand over his growing babe. “Please, not because you’re having my baby, but because I love you. Marry me.”
More tears streaked down her face as her lips turned up into a brilliant smile.
“Yes. Of course yes. I love you too!” She launched herself at him in true Samara style and kissed him, her lips tasting of salty tears.
He licked them all away and said a silent prayer to the Universe that Samara so believed in. When he could breathe he pressed the button to communicate with his driver.
“To Tiffany’s, Drake. We have a ring to buy.”
Samara snuggled into. “You don’t have to do that. I have everything I could ever want, right here.”
She put one hand to her bump and the other to his cheek, and he grinned. And because she didn’t care, he knew, it was even more important to spoil her.
“I know that. But you deserve the best of everything. Starting with the most beautiful engagement ring we can find.”
“And ending with?” she teased, pulling him down on top of her.
“As many babies as you want.”
The tears welled up and she blinked, making them flow down the side of her face.
He knew her now.
“I love you, Samara. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you happy.