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much,” she replied.
    As Anna had said, Brock sat in a chair in the sunroom, reading a newspaper. She felt a sudden attack of shyness. She’d stayed over at Brock’s apartment at the company several times, but he’d never brought her here. Seeing him in the home he’d grown up in pointed out the differences between them. He was wealthy—and legitimate. She wasn’t.
    Silly, she told herself. She just needed to go home. “Brock,” she said.
    He immediately turned around and looked at her with those blazing blue eyes. “Good morning. Did you rest well?”
    “Yes,” she said. “I should go back home.”
    “How’s your stomach feeling?” he asked.
    “It’s felt worse,” she hedged.
    “How’s the morning sickness?”
    She swallowed. “I’ll be okay.”
    “Why don’t you sit down and stop pushing yourself?”
    “I have things to do,” she said.
    He pulled a sheet of paper from the table and handed it to her. “Here. Maybe this will help you take a break.”
    She glanced at the press release. It announced the engagement and subsequent wedding of Elle Linton and Brock Maddox.
    Elle sank into a chair. “You haven’t sent this out, have you?”
    “It went out last night,” he said.
    She sucked in a deep breath and fought light-headedness. “Why?”
    His gaze met hers. “You know it’s the right thing. Do you really want to raise an illegitimate child? Doesn’t your child deserve more?”
    She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, her heart torn. “We’re not marrying for the right reasons.”
    “What could be a better reason than our child?” He frowned. “You look pale. Do you need water?”
    She shook her head. “I feel sick,” she said and raced for the bathroom by her room.
    After her stomach calmed down, Elle wiped her face with a cool washcloth and brushed her teeth. Then she sank into a chair in the blue bedroom where she’d slept last night. She was trying to calm down but her mind was racing. Marriage to Brock Maddox? She shook her head at the possibility. At the same time she wondered how she could get out of it now that he’d released the news to the press. What choice did she have?
    Hearing a tap at the door, she felt her heart race.
    “Elle,” Brock said. “Are you okay?”
    Not really, she thought, but rose from the bed and opened the door. He looked down at her in concern. “If you’re getting sick this often, you should see a doctor,” he said.
    “Well, you have to admit it’s been a rough twenty-fourhours for me.” She gazed at him, hard. “Why did you go ahead and announce our marriage when I’d already told you no?”
    “Because I’m thinking of our child. Our child deserves the best I can give him or her, and I believe a real man doesn’t shirk his responsibilities.”
    Like her father had. Elle had to admit she had never wanted the cloak of shame for her child that she had worn for most of her life. How many times had she been asked about her father and been forced to reply that she didn’t have one? “This is too fast.”
    Brock’s jaw tightened. “It can’t happen fast enough, as far as I’m concerned,” he said. “When news of your pregnancy hits, I want you wearing a wedding band and living in my home.”
    She frowned, feeling her stomach turn. “Is this all about image?”
    “No,” Brock said. “It’s about doing the right thing for everyone concerned. I want you and our baby protected.” He sighed. “You’re right. This is fast, but it’s necessary. If you were dreaming of a big church wedding, that’s going to be difficult to pull off.”
    “I never pictured a big, fussy wedding for myself. Whenever I thought about it—and it wasn’t often—I always thought a small beach wedding would be beautiful,” she said. “But that wouldn’t work now, so—”
    “Yes, it can,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I can make that happen. Would you like a new dress, and flowers?”
    “No, it’s not necessary,” she demurred, looking away,