Bride On Demand

Which was easier said than done. Jamie himself was drawn to comment on her absentmindedness when he was in the bath and she handed him the back-brush instead of the toy submarine he had requested.

‘You’re thinking about something else, aren’t you?’ he said.

‘Work,’ Regan improvised. ‘It’s been a busy day.’

‘Is that why you were late coming home?’

It wasn’t in her nature to lie, but this was one time when it was expedient. ‘Yes. Am I going to drive the battleship tonight?’

‘Ships are sailed,’ he corrected in the tolerant tone adopted by most males towards unmechanically-minded females.

‘Sail, then.’ Regan kept a straight face, resisting the urge to hug the small, sturdy body. With his mop of reddish hair and green eyes, he resembled her rather than his father, but there was a certain something emerging in his facial bone structure, even now, that struck a bell—especially after having seen the man in question so recently. Not that there was any doubt as to his parentage, anyway. Liam had been her first, and only, lover.

She did a few odd tasks after he was in bed, watched television for an hour or so, then attempted to pass some time reading, though her mind wasn’t on the written word. When the telephone rang at half past ten she was on the verge of retiring for the night. Liam’s voice sounded so close, so intimate.

‘I can’t stop thinking about you,’ he said softly. ‘I want you here with me right now, your hair spread across the pillow, your mouth yearning for my kisses, your body vibrating with desire for my touch! You were always so giving—so utterly without artifice!’

‘The word you’re looking for is artless,’ she said in an attempt to stem the swift-rising heat.

His laugh came low. ‘I know what I’m looking for. The girl I knew seven years ago is still there somewhere, lurking under that veneer. I aim to find her again.’

‘You’d have a long search.’ Regan was amazed at her surface composure, considering the furore going on inside her. ‘It’s no veneer, Liam. I’m a different person.’

The one you made me, she might have added.

‘We’ll see,’ he said. ‘Goodnight, green eyes.’

He’d called her that in the past as a term of endearment. Replacing the receiver, Regan did her best to calm her inner tumult. It meant nothing. All he was in need of right now was a warm, responsive female body to share his bed; hers just happened to be the first name to spring to mind.

She tremored as memory ran riot, forming tangible images in her mind’s eye: that lean hard body stripped of all clothing and fully aroused, the ripple of muscle beneath her fingers, the electric prickle of his chest hair against her nipples. In Liam’s arms she had known no reticence, no inhibition. He had taught her so much about her own bodily needs.

There had been times during these past years when she had yearned to know that fulfilment again, but she’d still to meet someone who could make her feel even a fraction of what she’d felt for Liam.

What she still felt for Liam, if she were honest about it, which was all the more reason to keep him at arm’s length. She had made the mistake seven years ago of allowing her emotions to overrule caution. She’d persuaded herself that his ruthless, ambitious, womanising reputation was mostly the product of jealous minds, and look where that had left her. He might have mellowed a little on the surface, but people didn’t change fundamentally. The way he had treated Paula Lambert was proof enough of that.

In any case, there was Jamie to consider. Better no father at all than a reluctant one—who might deny responsibility to start with.

More than half anticipating some further approach, she told herself it was all for the best when she heard nothing more from him over the following few days. Life went on much as it had before, with work taking up the greater part of it. After one further, tentative enquiry, Hugh took the hint and let the subject drop. Her business was her business.

The weekend came round again, this time with no Friday soirée to dress for. Regan took Jamie to the local park to play on the swings and roundabouts for half an hour or so, returning home to a couple of games of Scrabble before tucking him into bed around eight-thirty.

Sarah came up with a bottle of wine. Don had gone out for a drink with a pal, she said, so why not follow suit? They drank a couple of glasses apiece, and enjoyed an undemanding hour talking about whatever came to mind. By the time they parted, Regan was feeling more than a little elevated.

It wasn’t yet ten o’clock, she saw in some surprise. The night was still young! So what? asked the voice of reason, bringing her sharply down again from the heights. So what indeed?

Early as it was, she might as well go to bed, she decided. At least there was the weekend to look forward to, although she’d have to cudgel her brains to find something different to do on Sunday. They’d just about exhausted the affordable pastimes.

She was about to pull out the sofa bed when the doorbell rang. Sarah must have forgotten something, she thought, going to open the door. A joke about the effects of too much wine ready on her lips, she froze in suspended animation for a moment on seeing who the caller was, catching up with a painful jolt as her heart regained its rhythm.

‘How did you get in?’ she demanded.

‘The usual way,’ Liam answered. ‘The outside door wasn’t completely closed.’

Don! she thought. He’d been careless before. Not that it mattered at this particular moment who had left the door open.

‘What do you want?’ she asked, knowing it a pretty stupid question.

His brief smile suggested a similar assessment. ‘I tried staying away. It didn’t work. I had to see you again.’

‘So, you’ve seen me,’ she retorted, hardening herself against the sudden temptation to let matters take their own course. ‘You know the way out.’

He stuck a foot in the door to keep it from closing. ‘Stop playing the hard case. It isn’t the way you feel.’

‘You’d know, of course!’ She was fighting to stay in control—reminding herself of the child asleep in the next room. ‘Always so sure!’

‘Sure I’m not going to give up on you without a hell of a lot more effort,’ he said. ‘Are you going to let me in, or do I have to apply pressure?’

‘It’s late.’ She was beginning to lose her grip on the situation. ‘I—’

‘It’s only a little after ten. Having got this far, I don’t intend leaving without having my say, so you may as well reconcile yourself.’

Her eyes held his for several heart-racing seconds before finally giving way. Jamie had been really tired, Regan reassured herself. He wouldn’t waken up.

‘You won’t be here long,’ she said flatly, opening the door wider.

He made no answer to that. Closing the door as he advanced into the room, she turned to face him, striking the same semi-defensive attitude as on that previous night. ‘So?’

There was no verbal answer to that either. He simply moved the couple of steps that brought him back to where she stood and pulled her into his arms.

The kiss blew her away in its emotive power, stripping her mind of everything but the desire for it never to end. She clung to him, lips moving beneath his, body seeking the heat and hardness it remembered so well and had craved for so long. The buttons of her blouse gave easily to the supple fingers; she drew in a shuddering breath at the feel of those same fingers on her bare skin, her nipples springing to vibrant life.

‘Lovelier than ever,’ he murmured. ‘So smooth and firm!’ He lowered his head to put his lips where his fingers had been, sending wave after wave of tremoring sensation through her.

Sanity returned like a stone dropped from a height as he sought the fastening of her skirt. This was all he wanted from her. All he had ever wanted from her! The swift raging anger was as much against herself for her weakness as him for his assumption.

‘Get away from me!’ she spat. ‘Just get away!’

Considering his obvious arousal, it was to his credit that he released her immediately. Face tense, eyes fired by warring emotions, he stood back.

‘My apologies. I let myself be carried away a little.’

Fingers trembling, Regan adjusted her bra and rebuttoned her blouse. A little! That had to be the understatement of the year! If she hadn’t pulled him up he would have taken her right there and then.

‘I have to take my share of the blame,’ she said, unable to bring herself to look at him directly. ‘I was carried away for a moment too.’

It had been a great deal more than a momentary lapse, he could have pointed out with truth, but he didn’t. ‘So what now?’ he said instead. ‘Do I walk out of that door and deny us both the chance to get it together again, or do we start over from scratch?’

With what aim? she wanted to ask, except that she already knew the answer. Long- or short-term, an affair was all he would have in mind.

‘I think you’d better just go,’ she said huskily. ‘You should never have come.’

‘Why?’ The grey eyes pierced her through. ‘What are you afraid of?’

‘I’m not afraid, just not prepared to let you into my life again.’ Regan fumbled for the door handle at her back. ‘I’m sure you’re not short of other…entertainment.’

Liam made no move. Standing there, tall, lean and devastating in the dark blue suit, he made her long. Her jaw ached with the effort of keeping her chin up.

‘You think sex is all I’m interested in where you’re concerned?’ he said.

‘Was it ever anything else?’ she challenged. ‘You certainly never had any intention of marrying me. What you saw was a virgin ripe for the plucking!’

Liam made an abrupt gesture. ‘I didn’t know you were a virgin before I—’

‘You knew. Right from the moment you first kissed me you knew!’ Despite all she could do to control it, her voice had acquired a tremor. ‘I saw it in your eyes—that yen all men have to be the first.’

‘It didn’t stop you from carrying on,’ he returned hardily.

‘I didn’t want to stop. For the very first time since—’ She broke off, catching her lip between her teeth. ‘It hardly matters now.’

Liam regarded her in silence for a long moment, eyes thoughtfully narrowed. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me,’ he said at length.

‘There’s a whole lot of things I’m not telling you,’ she responded. ‘I want you out of here, Liam. Now!’

He shook his head. ‘Not until you can convince me you really mean it.’

With her back against the door, she had nowhere to go to avoid him. This time she kept her lips closed when he kissed her, but there was no closing out the desire still roaming loose from the first time. It gathered like a storm, sending signals to every part of her body, building by the second to insupportable strengths.

It took the sound of a door opening to bring her crashing back to reality, but nowhere near fast enough to avert disaster.

‘What,’ demanded a fierce little voice, ‘are you doing with my mummy?’

CHAPTER THREE

LIAM’S head jerked sharply round, face registering an all too swift comprehension as they surveyed the diminutive, pyjama-clad figure.

‘I was kissing her,’ he said with remarkable equanimity in the circumstances, allowing Regan to slide from his grasp.

‘Why?’ Jamie interrogated.

Liam shot a brief, searing glance at Regan. ‘It’s what people do when they haven’t seen one another for a long time. Your mummy and I are old friends.’

‘It’s late at night,’ Jamie pointed out, in no way pacified by the answer. ‘I read the time on my clock.’

‘It’s all right, Jamie.’ Regan made a valiant effort to sound calm and collected. ‘Mr Bentley was just leaving.’

Liam spoke quietly but with unmistakable resolution. ‘Not yet. We’ve a lot of things still to discuss. Your mummy is safe with me, I promise you,’ he added to the boy. ‘We’re just going to talk.’

‘It’s all right,’ Regan repeated as Jamie looked undecided. ‘Really it is. You go on back to bed, or you’re going to be too tired to go swimming in the morning. I’ll come and tuck you in again.’

Obviously still a little doubtful, he turned back into the bedroom. Regan followed him without glancing at Liam, playing for time in which to sort out exactly what she was going to say. Not that there was a great deal she could tell other than the truth.

‘Did you like kissing that man?’ Jamie asked unexpectedly as he slid into the bed.

‘Not nearly as much as I like kissing you,’ Regan responded with forced lightness, popping one on the end of his small nose and drawing the usual grimace.

‘I’m six, not a baby!’ he protested indignantly. ‘I don’t like being kissed!’

‘You’ll change your mind one day.’ She pulled the duvet up and around him. ‘When you’re grown-up and start meeting girls.’

‘Girls!’ He pulled another face. ‘They’re rubbish!’

‘You’ll change your mind about that too.’ She ruffled his hair in lieu of another kiss, unable to stretch the interlude any further. ‘Sleep tight.’

‘Mind the bugs don’t bite,’ he murmured, eyes already closing.

Bugs would be a doddle compared with what she faced out there, she thought ruefully. If only she’d never gone to that damned party in the first place!

Liam was still on his feet when she went through. The expression on his face was no comfort at all.

‘You were going to let me go without ever knowing he existed!’ he accused. ‘My own son!’

‘What makes you so sure he’s yours?’ Regan demanded instinctively.

His lip curled. ‘How old is he? Six? Makes the chances of his being anyone else’s pretty unlikely. Unless you took up with somebody more or less immediately after we parted.’ He gave another grim smile at the look on her face. ‘I guess not.’

‘So he’s yours,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t change anything. If you—’

She stopped right there, voice drying in her throat as fury swept the lean features.

‘I discover I have a six-year-old son and it doesn’t change anything!’ he exclaimed. ‘What the hell do you think I’m made of?’

‘I only meant you don’t have to feel in any way obligated,’ she got out. ‘I want nothing from you. I didn’t even want you to know about him.’

Anger gave way to scepticism, no less withering in impact. ‘So why tell Paula about him in the first place?’

Regan made a small, helpless gesture. ‘It wasn’t intentional, believe me. I was… I needed…’ Her voice trailed away again as she acknowledged the impossibility of explaining just what she had felt at that time. ‘It just happened,’ she finished lamely.

‘Of course. Just pure spur of the moment!’

The irony spurred her flagging spirit, lifting her chin and bringing the light of battle back to her eyes. ‘If I was that keen to have you know about Jamie, why didn’t I let you discover the truth right away when you followed me back here?’

‘Probably because by then you’d begun to realise what you might be letting yourself in for.’

‘I already told you—’

‘I know what you already told me,’ he cut in. ‘It isn’t your decision to make. Not any more.’ He drew a long slow breath, bringing both voice and demeanour under control. ‘Accepting that it happened, what I don’t find easy to understand is how it happened when we were both of us taking precautions.’

‘I lied about that,’ she admitted. ‘I thought it was enough that you did.’

‘Obviously you were wrong.’ He viewed her dispassionately. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?’

Regan stuck both her hands in the pockets of her wrap to stop them from shaking, willing herself to look him directly in the eye. ‘For what purpose? So that you could offer to pay for an abortion?’

‘Don’t you dare—’ He broke off, shaking his head as if in repudiation of what he’d been about to say. ‘There’d have been no question of abortion.’

‘You’d have offered to marry me?’

‘Of course.’

It was Regan’s turn to curl a lip. ‘Under duress? No thanks!’

‘It wouldn’t have—’ He broke off again, jaw tense. ‘There’s little point in going over old ground. What we have to decide is where we go from here.’

‘Nowhere!’ she said with force. ‘I’ve managed fine up to now. I’ll carry on doing it without any help from you!’

There was no sign of the relief she still more than half anticipated in the grey eyes—more a firming of purpose. ‘If that child through there is mine, I’m sure as hell not going to stand back and let you get on with it!’

‘The operative word being if,’ she snapped back, stung by his use of it. ‘What actual proof do you have when it comes right down to it? He doesn’t even look like you!’

‘No, he looks like you, but the timing still applies.’

‘Providing I didn’t go off on the rebound, as you suggested I might have.’

A muscle jerked as his teeth came together. ‘Cut it out! You didn’t have it in you. Has it occurred to you that you’ve robbed him as well as yourself these past years?’

That pulled her up as nothing else could have done. Jamie had never been a deprived child in the basic sense, but there was no doubt that both in financial and emotional terms, he had lacked a father’s input.

‘I suppose, if you want to contribute to his upkeep from now on, I can hardly refuse,’ she said stiffly. ‘But that’s as far as it goes.’

‘No way.’ Liam hadn’t raised his voice but there was no doubting that he was adamant. ‘I may have missed the first six years of his life; I can at least have some say in the rest.’ He winged another glance about the room. ‘This is no place to bring up a child in. He needs somewhere to play, for a start.’

‘There’s a park within walking distance.’ Regan couldn’t completely eradicate the defensive note from her voice. ‘We go there every weekend. And he gets plenty of exercise at school.’

‘How about holidays? I don’t imagine you can afford to take more than the statutory time off from your job.’

‘I pay Sarah from the flat downstairs to look after him when I can’t be here. She’s very reliable—and she thinks the world of him.’

‘I’m sure of it. It’s still a long way from an ideal situation.’

Regan studied the taut features, vainly trying to read the mind behind the grey eyes. ‘What exactly are you suggesting?’

‘We obviously need to talk things through.’ Liam made a decisive movement. ‘Only not now. We both need time to consider. I’ll come back in the morning. Say nine-thirty.’

Short of packing their bags tonight and taking off for somewhere he wouldn’t be able to find them, there was nothing Regan could do but accept. ‘I suppose so,’ she said reluctantly. ‘Although Jamie is going to hate missing his swimming lesson.’

‘He can go later.’ There was a momentary pause as he regarded her, eyes shuttered against her. ‘You’d better get some sleep. You look exhausted.’

Hardly surprising, she thought, doubting that sleep would be forthcoming with so much going on in her mind. She watched him walk to the door, torn between conflicting emotions as he turned for a final word.

‘Nine-thirty,’ he repeated. ‘Be here.’

‘Do I have any choice?’ she asked.

‘None,’ he confirmed. ‘From now on, it’s a dual concern.’

Duel might be a more appropriate term, came the thought as the door closed in his wake. She had opened up a regular can of worms with that unthinking retort to Paula Lambert’s harassing.

Or had it really been so unthinking? queried the small inner voice. Wasn’t it just remotely possible that deep down she had wanted Liam to know about Jamie? Possible even tonight, in fact. He wouldn’t have forced his way in if she’d shown any positive rejection.

Regardless, she had made her bed and now must lie on it, because he wasn’t going to back off for certain.

Only neither was he going to take over in any fashion, she vowed. Jamie was her son. She would have the last word regarding his future.

She did sleep in the end, but was awake again at six, with no desire to make any further attempt to doze off. Jamie slept through to his usual seven, emerging in his pyjamas to cast a suspicious glance about the living room as if in anticipation of seeing last night’s visitor lurking somewhere.

‘He went home hours ago,’ Regan assured him. She hesitated before adding to the statement, aware that she was going to have to tell him the truth but not at all certain, even now, just how to put it. ‘He’s coming back this morning to talk to us both,’ she said at length.

Jamie looked puzzled. ‘Why?’

Regan drew a long slow breath and decided that the only way to deal with this was openly and honestly. ‘He’s your daddy,’ she said.

‘I don’t have a daddy,’ came the response. ‘He went away when I was a baby.’

‘That’s what I told you.’ She drew the diminutive figure to a seat on the now made-up sofa, resisting the urge to put her arms about him and tell him to forget the whole thing. ‘It was wrong of me to let you think he’d deserted us. The truth is that he never even knew about you.’

Green eyes regarded her unblinkingly. ‘Why didn’t he know about me?’

‘Because I didn’t tell him you’d been born.’

Jamie digested this in silence for a moment, never taking his eyes from her face. ‘Why didn’t you tell him?’

‘Because I believed he wouldn’t want to know.’

‘But he found out about me?’

‘Yes.’ There was no reason, Regan decided, to go into the way that knowledge had been acquired. ‘And now that he has…’ she swallowed on the hard lump in her throat ‘…he wants to be your daddy and look after you.’

Alarm leapt in the small face. ‘Instead of you?’

‘No, of course not.’ Regan made haste to despatch any such notion. ‘We’ll still be together, as always. It’s just that there’ll be more money to spend, that’s all.’

‘We’ve got lots of money already,’ came the loyal response. ‘We don’t need any more. And I don’t want a daddy!’ he added with an insistence that reminded Regan only too forcefully of the very man he was rejecting.

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