The intensity with which he spoke the words was making me feel slightly sick. It was like this was building to something, but I just didn’t know what. All this time, I had read things about him being a playboy and going with all these women, yet he actually wasn’t? Could I believe him? Why should I believe him in the first place? Didn’t they say a picture spoke a thousand words? And I had seen hundreds of pictures, which spoke volumes against what he was telling me right now.

But the way he was looking into my eyes right now was making me want to believe him, was making me wish this were possible.

“Really?” I asked, my voice breaking.

He moved closer to me and reached out, brushing his fingertip against my cheek lightly, wiping a tear away. Until he did that, I didn’t even realise I was crying. I wanted his words to be true, but I couldn’t get my hopes up only to have him crush me again.

“Really.” He nodded. “I met you at the club on my eighteenth birthday and since that day, there have been only three girls I’ve had sex with. One is you. Both of the others were when you left the club, when you were having Sasha. I didn’t know that was why you left. I thought you just up and left. I was hurting so much. I thought I’d lost you, so I slept with a girl. I can’t even remember her name or what she looked like; she was just a one-off. I was trying to forget you because you hurt me by leaving and not even saying goodbye,” he said, his voice soft and caring.

My stomach twisted in a knot. Was he telling me he had feelings for me? Was this some sort of revelation that he actually did like me? I couldn’t breathe properly. I wanted to speak. I had no idea what I even wanted to say, but nothing was coming out of my open mouth as I stared at him dumbfounded.

“After about a month of you being gone, people told me to forget you and that I needed to move on and accept the fact you weren’t coming back. They just kept going on and on about how I should stop pining for you because you obviously didn’t care about me, that I was just one of the many guys you screwed for money, and if I’d been important to you at all then you wouldn’t have left like you did. They convinced me that what I thought was a real connection was in fact just good sexual chemistry, and that you only wanted me because it was your job. I believed them.” He frowned and shook his head dejectedly. “One night, I met a girl. She was nice and my friends were hounding me so much that, in the end, I asked her out just to get them off my back. We dated for about three weeks, but then I realised I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t want anyone else.” He moved closer to me, cupping my face in his hands, just looking at me as if he was trying to choose his words carefully.

My mind was totally blank. I couldn’t look away from his eyes as he looked back at me with such intensity it was almost too much to bear.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he carried on speaking. “Then, after another agonising couple of months, you walked back into my life again. Since then, it’s only ever been you. I’m crazy about you, Emma. I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to be your husband. I want to take care of you and make you look at me like you used to, instead of this.” He clenched his teeth as a pained expression crossed his face. “I hate myself for making you look at me like this. I hate this hard look in your eyes. It’s painful and I can’t take it anymore. I didn’t mean to behave like this toward you. I know I’m hurting you by forcing you into things, but I just wanted to be there for you. I wanted to be there with you. You, me and Sasha, a proper family. Just like I’ve daydreamed about for so long.”

My mouth was dry. He was killing me. His words were literally killing me with emotion. I was drowning in feelings. Things were hitting me so fast and so hard I just didn’t know how to cope with it. Carson Matthews, the love of my life, was in love with me, too? He’d just declared his love for me. Me, a dirty little lap dancer. How was this possible?

I had no idea what to say. I felt a little numb, like someone had just thrown a bucket of cold water at me, and I was trapped in that split-second of shock where you just don’t know what to do or what to feel. Except that split-second was stretching into almost a minute of painful silence. His face fell as he continued to look at me. I wanted more than anything to tell him I loved him back, but I could do nothing other than stand there like a statue.

“But I’ve gone about this completely the wrong way. I wish I could turn back time. I wish I could go back to that day I found out about Sash. If I could, I would do this all differently. But I can’t, and now I’ve ruined the relationship we had, and I hate myself even more than you hate me,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

I opened my mouth, praying something intelligent would come out. “Huh?” I groaned inwardly. That wasn’t intelligent at all! Stupid, stupid Emma!

He smiled sadly and his hands dropped from my face as he stepped back. “You don’t have to marry me. I’ll have a lawyer sort out a trust fund for Sasha. I’ll set the three of you up in a nice place and pay you whatever amount you want in child support each month. I’d really like to have open access to Sasha rather than scheduled times for visits, but if you don’t want that then I understand. The way I’ve behaved the last couple of weeks doesn’t really give me the right to make demands or anything.” His shoulders slumped as he spoke. “I’m sorry. I should… I should go. I should be out in the paddock getting ready to start the race. My team are probably going mental looking for me.”