Secret Heirs And A Forever Family

‘Oh, God, Oliver, yes.’ Joanna was ashamed she hadn’t asked about his father before. ‘How is he? I’ve thought about him a lot since you told me about his stroke. Has he made a good recovery?’

‘He’ll get there if he stops arguing with the physios,’ replied Matt, pulling a wry face. ‘He’s accepted that he won’t be fit enough to work again, but he can be a pretty difficult patient at times. He’ll never recover the use of his left arm, unfortunately, but, as we keep telling him, that’s a small price to pay for his being alive.’

Joanna nodded. ‘If—when—you see him again, give him my best, won’t you?’

‘I will.’ Then, after a moment, ‘So, how have you been?’

‘Not too bad.’ Joanna sipped her soda. ‘I had some morning sickness to start with, but that’s normal. And during the last few weeks, I’ve been feeling pretty tired by the end of the day. But that’s normal, too. I’m usually in bed by ten.’

Realising she was chattering, Joanna bit her tongue. Matt wasn’t interested in the everyday details of each trimester. He’d meant how was she feeling now? But his response was typical.

‘You shouldn’t still be working,’ he said. ‘Particularly not for that—for Bellamy.’

‘David’s been really kind to me.’ She hesitated. ‘In any case, I don’t actually work for him anymore. I used some of the money you sent after selling my shares in NovCo and became his partner.’

‘You’re kidding!’ Matt was appalled. ‘So what happens next? You get married and share everything?’

‘Oh, Matt.’ She shook her head. ‘You couldn’t be more wrong where David is concerned.’ She bit her lip and then added, much against her better judgement, ‘He’s more likely to be interested in you than in me!’

Matt was stunned. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘No, well, it’s David’s business, not mine. FYI, he has a partner. They’ve been together for—oh, I don’t know—about five years.’

Matt absorbed what she’d said with relief and incredulity. Relief, because it meant his fears so far as David and Joanna were concerned were groundless, and incredulity because David had always seemed to treat her as a man treated the woman he loved.

And perhaps he did love her. Whatever the situation, Matt owed the man an apology. An apology he could never give, he realised, not without betraying Joanna’s trust.

Joanna took a deep breath now. ‘Anyway, as you heard, I’m taking a temporary leave of absence at the end of this week.’

‘To go stay with your mother?’ Matt regarded her closely. ‘Is that what you really want?’

Joanna shrugged. ‘It was her idea,’ she said defensively, tracing a pattern on the counter with her fingernail.

She hesitated and then added, ‘I should tell you, she didn’t approve of me keeping the baby’s existence to myself. When I first saw you, I thought she’d contacted you.’

Matt hesitated, and then said, ‘So how do you feel about spending the next couple months in Cornwall?’

‘Well…’ Joanna sighed and Matt waited somewhat curiously for her reply. ‘I can’t go on working at the gallery, and she and Lionel have been very good to me,’ she added, jiggling the straw in her glass.

Matt realised that she’d probably thought it was a good solution. But that was before he’d been involved. This was his child she was carrying, he thought possessively. He should have some say in where she spent the rest of her pregnancy.

‘I saw from your solicitor’s letter that you’re living in the Bahamas these days,’ she said, probably hoping to divert him, but she’d inadvertently given him an idea.

‘I told you I was going to buy a couple of businesses on Cable Cay,’ said Matt casually. ‘I guess you could say I’m helping to bolster the tourist trade on the island. And I’ve done some writing, too. Not the great American novel,’ he added, as her eyes widened. ‘Just a couple of articles for the local rag.’

Joanna was impressed. ‘And does it keep you busy?’

‘Well, that and some sailing,’ agreed Matt, wanting to get back to the real reason he’d brought it up. He paused. ‘When is the baby due?’

Joanna hesitated, and he wondered if she was thinking of lying to him. But she evidently thought better of it, and replied quietly, ‘Around the middle of March. The second week, I think they said.’

‘Do you have a date?’

Matt regarded her enquiringly, his arm brushing her sleeve as he reached for his coffee, and Joanna felt her awareness of him rocket up a notch. Hormones, she reminded herself again, drawing away from him. One of the women at the clinic she attended had been talking about how sexy she was finding her husband these days. A crazy admission, but Joanna couldn’t say her reactions where Matt was concerned were all that different.

Now she said shortly, ‘Really, Matt, what does it matter? I doubt if you’ll be around when he’s born.’

‘He?’ Matt was instantly distracted, picking up on that before anything else. ‘You’re having a boy? For God’s sake, Joanna, were you going to deprive me of seeing my own son?’

Joanna’s face burned. Matt had spoken thoughtlessly, and his voice had been much too loud. She doubted anyone in their immediate vicinity hadn’t heard that damning accusation.

Eyes turned in their direction; curious eyes, eyes that held a certain amount of sympathy—for him. She wondered if she’d ever be able to come into this coffee shop again without being recognised, or meeting someone’s censorious gaze.

‘I want to go,’ she said abruptly, sliding off her stool, and draping the strap of her bag over one shoulder. ‘Thanks for the drink.’

‘Wait!’

But Joanna wasn’t listening to him. With her head down, she headed for the exit. Let Matt deal with the fallout, she thought resentfully. He’d created it. All she wanted to do was go home and lock herself in her apartment.

And give way to the tears that were threatening to destroy what little confidence she had left.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JOANNA WASN’T SURPRISED when Matt followed her out of the coffee shop. She doubted if even he was prepared to face the sympathy of the customers. For herself, she wished ardently that she’d brought her car this morning. It would have been so much easier to slide behind the wheel of her little Mini and make her getaway.

But these days, she used a bus to take her to and from the gallery. Using her car meant she had to find a parking space, and often that meant a seriously long walk to the gallery. Something she preferred not to do in her present condition.

It was certainly not a day for hanging around. The rain was coming down in sheets. A glance at her watch informed her that the next bus wasn’t due for another fifteen minutes. And there wasn’t even a bus shelter to offer some protection.

Dammit!

Now Matt would offer her a lift, something she had hoped to avoid. Okay, she accepted that he was probably not going to be satisfied until he knew every minute detail of her plans. But being alone with him, talking about their son, meant she was admitting him back into her life.

Yet did she have a choice?

Joanna swallowed a little convulsively. When had she started thinking of the baby as their son?

‘Where the hell are you going?’

Predictably, Matt had caught up to her and he grabbed her sleeve as she hurried along the pavement, bringing her to a standstill. Strong fingers sent bolts of fire up her arm, and, controlling her unwelcome reaction, Joanna turned to give him an indignant look. ‘I’m going home,’ she said, aware that she sounded defensive. ‘Where else?’

Matt seethed. ‘Where did you park your car?’

‘I didn’t.’ Realising that he probably wouldn’t believe her, Joanna sighed. ‘I generally use the bus,’ she appended, watching as Matt fished his mobile phone out of his pocket. ‘There’s never anywhere to park around here.’

‘Is that so?’ Matt flicked open the phone, punched one of the keys and then spoke into the mouthpiece. ‘Now, Jack,’ he said without preamble, and closed the phone again.

Joanna’s shoulders sagged. ‘Look, I know this meeting hasn’t been very satisfactory—’ she began, and Matt gave her an ironic look.

‘You think?’

‘But it’s a bit early to be discussing what’s going to happen after the baby’s born.’ She paused. ‘Don’t you think?’

‘Dear Lord, I’m still getting used to the idea that you’re having a baby,’ said Matt harshly. ‘And now I hear you’re having it in less than three months.’ He shook his head. ‘I want to know everything about it. And that definitely includes where the baby is born.’

Joanna sighed. She was getting wet and, with an effort, she pulled her arm away.

‘Come on, Joanna.’ There was no humour in his voice. ‘I’m not leaving here without you. We can go to your apartment, or my hotel. It’s up to you.’

Joanna bit her lip, and then, shrugging her shoulders, she allowed him to help her into the back of the limousine that cruised to a stop beside them. There was no point in quarrelling with Matt. Not when she had no defence.

‘Your apartment?’ suggested Matt, sliding in beside her, and she was immediately made aware of his masculinity.

The mixture of aftershave and the clean male smell of his body drifted over her. This was why she’d wished she’d brought her own car. In the confines of the back seat of the limousine, Matt was far too close for comfort. Far too close for her shattered nerves to ignore.

Aware that he was waiting for her response, she glanced at him out of the corners of her eyes. ‘No. Your hotel,’ she said firmly, guessing he would not be expecting that. ‘Is it still the Savoy? We can have afternoon tea in the foyer.’

Matt’s mouth compressed. ‘I’m staying at a small hotel in Knightsbridge, actually,’ he responded after a moment. ‘But we can have afternoon tea in my suite, if you like.’

Afternoon tea in his suite!

Not likely.

Joanna’s lips parted. ‘I—well, perhaps you’d better come to the apartment, then,’ she said, as he’d probably anticipated she would. ‘But the place is a mess. I’ve been sorting things out for the past couple of weeks and there are boxes everywhere.’

Matt shrugged and leant forward to give Jack Dougherty his instructions. Then there was an oppressive silence until the chauffeur drew into the grounds of Colgate Court.

The place looked even less attractive in the rain, Matt thought morosely as he followed Joanna into the building. But at least there was no grim-faced caretaker waiting to block their way.

She hadn’t been exaggerating about the state of the apartment. There were suitcases in the foyer and clothes and books all over the living-room floor. Which was another source of irritation. If Matt had delayed his trip to London, she might well have left this address. Would he have guessed where she’d gone, or might he have had to go to the gallery and tackle Bellamy? Not a prospect he’d have viewed with any degree of enthusiasm before today, he admitted wryly.

Matt’s hands curled into fists in his pockets. Thank God, she was leaving here anyway. The room was cold, and he guessed she’d turned off the heating while she was at work. Why did she insist on economising when she had a healthy bank balance? It was ridiculous, and he was feeling bloody frustrated by the whole affair.

‘Do you want some tea?’

Tea?

No, Matt didn’t want any tea. He wouldn’t have said no to a glass of whisky, but he doubted Joanna kept anything like that here.

Joanna had shed her coat and was presently filling the kettle at the small sink. Matt’s eyes were irresistibly drawn to her body but he shook his head impatiently and looked away.

There was little to see beyond the windows as he’d observed the last time he was here. This whole place was a dump, he thought, uncharitably. And possibly damp, too. He was glad Joanna wasn’t planning on having the baby here, even if the prospect of her moving to Cornwall was only slightly less acceptable.

‘I don’t have any coffee to offer you,’ Joanna was continuing, and, turning towards her, Matt noticed that the hand taking a cup from one of the virtually empty cupboards beside her was shaking.

It was difficult for him not to feel sympathetic towards her then. This was the woman he had loved for over six years. He didn’t want to have any feelings for her but, whether it was just a physical thing or not, his body was humming with an unwelcome awareness of her nearness.

He swore, forcing such thoughts aside. He had to concentrate on the present and what he was going to do now.

While the kettle boiled, Joanna came into the living area and gestured towards the easy chair beside the windows. ‘Why don’t you sit down? I won’t be a minute.’

Matt frowned. ‘Why? Where are you going?’

Joanna made an embarrassed gesture. ‘I’m going to the bathroom,’ she said awkwardly. ‘It’s a hazard of my condition, I’m afraid.’

‘Ah.’

Matt acknowledged the problem and Joanna hurried out of the room. But when she returned, he was still standing in the middle of the floor, and although he’d loosened his leather coat, it still hung damply from his shoulders.

There were drops of rain sparkling on his dark hair, and she recalled how she used to grip handfuls of his hair when he was making love to her. She remembered winding her legs about his hips, emitting muffled cries of satisfaction every time she reached another climax. And then, lying indolently beneath him, content to feel him inside her, prolonging the visceral connection for as long as she possibly could.

Oh, God!

Joanna stifled a groan, wondering when she was going to stop having these—what? Erotic thoughts about Matt? She could blame it on the pregnancy, but she had the feeling that they weren’t going to go away any time soon.

The kettle had boiled in her absence, and as she crossed the room she was intensely conscious of Matt’s eyes assessing her appearance. Desperate to distract him, she asked again if he would like a cup of tea, anything to make this situation less fraught than it seemed, but Matt merely shook his head.

‘No, thanks,’ he said, crossing the living room towards her. He paused in the entry to the kitchen annexe, successfully blocking her exit. ‘Is there any chance that you could just sit down and talk to me?’

‘Oh—sure.’

Joanna managed a quick acknowledgement, adding hot water to the teabag she’d placed in her cup. She opened the fridge and took a carton of milk from the door. Then, when Matt was on the point of demanding that she stop fussing around, she added a little milk to her cup and came towards him.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, indicating that he was in her way, and Matt gritted his teeth and moved aside.

Joanna carried her cup over to the sofa, and seated herself on the edge of the cushions. Then, cradling the hot cup between her icy palms, she said, ‘You should sit down, too.’

Matt dragged one of the dining chairs over to the sofa and, swinging it around, he straddled it, facing her. He’d had time to think about what he was going to say, and Joanna was slightly disturbed by his grim expression.

He was ominously silent for a moment. And then, he said quietly, ‘I don’t want you to spend the rest of your pregnancy in Padsworth.’

Joanna was taken aback. She’d half expected him to join her on the sofa, but he hadn’t. This was a very different Matt from the man she’d slept with in Miami, she thought uneasily.

Gathering her small store of composure, Joanna sipped her tea, to avoid meeting those intent dark eyes. ‘Well, I don’t want to stay here,’ she said at last.

Matt considered her flushed face with some impatience. ‘I don’t want you to stay here either.’

‘So you understand why I’m going to Cornwall?’

‘I understand you thought it was your only option,’ Matt agreed tersely. ‘If you’d told me the truth from the beginning, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. I’d have offered you an alternative.’

‘What alternative?’ Joanna still had some pride. ‘I don’t need your support, Matt.’

‘Maybe not, but you’re going to get it,’ he retorted. He controlled his temper with an effort. ‘God, I still can’t believe you kept this from me for so long.’

‘Must we go over that again?’ Joanna sighed. ‘There was always the possibility that you might deny the child was yours.’

‘You think?’

‘All right.’ She lifted a careless hand. ‘I don’t think you would have done that. I’m sorry. I should have told you.’ She paused. ‘Are you happy now?’

Matt’s jaw hardened. ‘Where do you plan to have this baby?’ His voice was tense. ‘I don’t want you going into labour in some remote village in Cornwall. There’s no maternity hospital in the village, I know that, and it’s the middle of winter. If anything goes wrong, how long before you can get expert help?’

‘Why would you think that anything might go wrong?’

‘Joanna, we’ve been trying to have a baby for a few years now. Do you want to take the chance that there might be a complication?’

‘Well, it won’t be the middle of winter when I have the baby,’ she replied reasonably. ‘And nothing’s going to go wrong.’ She crossed her fingers superstitiously. ‘You always think the worst, don’t you?’

‘I wonder why,’ murmured Matt drily, but she heard the bitterness in his voice.

‘In any case, there’s a maternity unit in Padsworth—’

‘A unit.’ The way Matt said the words told her what he thought of that.

‘And there’s a large teaching hospital in the next town,’ she continued staunchly.

‘Which is what? Fifteen miles away? Twenty? On roads that are hardly freeways?’ Matt stifled a curse. ‘What if there’s a late snowfall? Those narrow roads get blocked, you know that. Think what you’re committing yourself to, Joanna. Much as I like your mother, she’s no Florence Nightingale.’

‘So what are you suggesting? That I stay in London where I can be sure of reaching a hospital that you’d consider satisfactory if there was an emergency?’

‘No.’

Matt got up from the chair and pushed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. It put her eyes on a level with his lower body and she bent her head, trying not to think about the hard muscles that stretched his tight jeans. Or imagine how he’d looked when he was naked. She dragged her eyes away. She needed to get a grip on her emotions, not focus on what she remembered of his lean powerful body.

Matt, apparently unaware of her distraction, spoke tersely. ‘I’m suggesting you come back to Cable Cay with me.’ He rocked back on the heels of his boots and continued, ‘There’s a small house in the grounds at Long Point. A couple of bedrooms, one and a half baths. You would be perfectly comfortable there with your own staff.’

‘You can’t be serious!’

‘Oh, I am.’ Matt had never been more serious in his life. ‘There’s no large hospital on the island, I give you that. But I can put the helicopter I use on standby for an emergency. And there are at least three major hospitals in Nassau, half an hour away, catering to everything from insect bites to heart surgery.’

Joanna shook her head. ‘But I don’t want to go to the Bahamas,’ she protested. She got to her feet. ‘I’ve met the doctor in Padsworth. He knows my mother very well.’

‘It’s not your mother he’ll be dealing with.’ Matt shrugged. ‘Besides, I don’t think it’s your decision. You owe me, Joanna. I may not have been around for most of the pregnancy, but I think I deserve to be there at my son’s birth, don’t you?’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

JOANNA ASSURED HERSELF she wasn’t disappointed that Matt hadn’t come to meet her in Nassau. She’d taken the flight directly from London to the Bahamas and been met by Matt’s helicopter pilot, Jacob Mallister, instead. He’d flown her on to Cable West, the small airport that catered to Cable Cay’s commercial and personal needs, where Henry Powell, Matt’s steward, was waiting to greet her.

It was good to see a familiar face. She’d met the old man before on the two occasions she and Matt had holidayed at the villa. ‘Hey, there, Mrs Novak,’ he exclaimed, his dark features beaming as he gave her a hand to negotiate the steps down from the aircraft. ‘Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?’

‘A sight, certainly,’ agreed Joanna drily, glad to be on solid ground again. She didn’t like helicopters. They tended to dip and sway quite alarmingly, and even the short trip from New Providence had left her feeling slightly sick. The thought of having to do that journey again, when she was in labour, filled her with a sense of alarm.

‘Well, welcome to Cable Cay,’ declared Henry cheerfully. ‘Did you have a good journey?’

‘It was fine.’ Joanna didn’t mention the helicopter ride. ‘But I’m glad it’s over.’

‘I’m sure you’ll feel better once you’ve had a good night’s rest,’ he said, taking charge of her cases. ‘I know Mr Matt will be glad you’re here safely.’

Joanna made no comment to this. She doubted Matt would care, one way or the other. He’d given her an ultimatum: let him play a part in the remaining weeks of her pregnancy—which he regarded as only fair—or face the prospect of him petitioning for custody of the child after he was born.

She didn’t know whether Matt would have done such a thing, but she decided not to take the risk. And after all, surely it was no hardship to spend weeks being pampered by servants on a semi-tropical island in the sun.

Now, looking about her, she had to admit that she’d forgotten how picturesque the island was. The view, even this late in the evening, was so beautiful, and, in spite of everything, she had to smile.

The sunset was just gilding the palms that edged the runway, and the heat was very welcome after the rains of January back home. She was glad now that Matt had sent the helicopter. The ferry ride from Nassau would have taken the better part of two hours, and it would have been dark before she arrived.

In the distance, she could see a beach, with the ocean creaming softly on the shoreline. A cool breeze blew in from the water, and she breathed deeply as she gazed towards the horizon. The sea might look dark now, and even a little threatening, she remembered, but when the sun rose in the morning, it would be a delight in shades of pink and green and gold.

‘It is good to see you again,’ Henry continued, stowing her luggage in the back of a gleaming SUV. ‘I think Mr Matt’s been a little lonely since he moved here. But if you don’t mind me saying so, you’re looking a little pale, Mrs Novak. Maybe a dose of our hot Bahamian sunshine is exactly what you need, eh?’

‘You could be right,’ said Joanna, realising she actually was glad to be here at last. ‘How are you and Teresa these days? I thought you might have retired by now.’

‘Oh, no. We’re not ready for retirement, Mrs Novak,’ he assured her, making sure her suitcases were safely installed. He lifted her father’s old laptop, which she’d brought with her. ‘Will this be okay in the back?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Joanna nodded. ‘It’s just an old machine that used to belong to my father, but I’ve brought some work from home, and I thought it might be useful to keep in touch with my family as well.’

‘Work?’ Henry pulled a face.

‘I run a website,’ Joanna explained. ‘Didn’t Matt tell you, I have shares in an art gallery in London? My partner is keen for me to keep my hand in.’

‘Mr Matt probably forgot,’ said Henry cheerfully. ‘And it’s good to keep in touch with family, too. But Mr Matt’s parents don’t come here like they used to when the children were small.’

Joanna couldn’t deny a sense of relief at these words, but she guessed that since Oliver had had his second stroke, he didn’t travel as much. It hopefully meant she wouldn’t have to face Matt’s mother. Which could only be a plus.

The journey to the villa didn’t take long. Henry spent most of it regaling her with stories of his grandchildren and asking her if she minded that she was having a boy.

‘Mr Matt told me,’ he added, pulling a wry face. ‘He’s pretty buzzed about the whole thing. I know he can’t wait to meet his son.’