Pleasure, Pregnancy and a Proposition

His gaze wandered down to her abdomen. She folded her arms, feeling oddly defensive.

Fierce grey eyes met hers. They looked colder than ever.

‘About my child, of course. What else?’

CHAPTER THREE

‘YOUR what? What child?’ Had she just entered The Twilight Zone? ‘Have you gone mad?’

Louisa turned to grab the door handle, determined to get out of the car before he started speaking in tongues or something.

His fingers clamped on her wrist. ‘Don’t act the innocent. I know about the pregnancy. I know about your mood swings, the supposed stomach bug you had a month ago, and the fact that you haven’t had a period in months.’ His eyes dipped to her breasts. ‘And there’s a few other giveaways I can see for myself.’

She wrestled her hand out of his grasp. ‘What have you been doing? Staking out my toilet?’

‘Jack told me.’

‘Jack Devlin told you I was pregnant?’ she shouted, past caring if the whole of Harley Street heard her.

The mention of her best friend Mel’s husband was the last straw. She’d forgotten that Jack and Devereaux were friends. It was how she and Devereaux had met—at a dinner party at Mel’s house. And now Jack had told Devereaux she was pregnant. Next time she saw Jack she would have to kill him.

‘Not in so many words,’ Devereaux said, impatience sharpening his voice. ‘We were talking about Mel’s pregnancy and he mentioned you. Seems Mel thinks you’re pregnant but that you’re keeping it a secret for some reason.’

Okay, now she would have to kill Mel too. ‘Please tell me you didn’t tell Jack about us.’

She’d been so humiliated she hadn’t told anyone. Not even Mel, and she usually told Mel everything.

But how did you tell your best friend that you’d slept with a man on a first date, that you’d discovered how incredible, how amazing sex could really be, that for ten rosy minutes of afterglow you’d deluded yourself into thinking you’d found the love of your life—and then been brought crashing down to earth when you discovered the truth. That Mr Right was actually Mr Dead Wrong in disguise. That he wasn’t the sexy, flirtatious, easy-going ordinary guy he’d pretended to be all evening, but rather a cold, manipulative, controlling member of the aristocracy, who’d seduced you for writing an article about him he didn’t like.

Humiliation didn’t even begin to cover it.

‘I didn’t talk to Jack about us,’ he snarled. ‘I was much more interested in hearing what he had to say about you.’ He was looking at her as if he had a right to his anger.

Suddenly sick of him, and his attitude, and the whole stupid mess, Louisa knew she just wanted to get away from him. ‘I’m not pregnant. Now, I’ve had enough of this idiotic conversation. I’m going back to work.’ She tried to turn away from him, but he grasped her wrist again. ‘Let go of me.’

‘When did you have your last period?’

‘I’m not answering that.’

She struggled. His fingers tightened on her wrist.

‘You’re not going anywhere until you do,’ he said firmly.

She stopped struggling. This was ridiculous. What were they arguing about?

Dropping her head back on the seat, she let her hand go limp and closed her eyes against the bright cloudless August afternoon. She wasn’t pregnant. All she had to do was convince him and he’d let her go. And then this whole horrible scene would be over. She’d never have to see him again.

Shielding her eyes, she rolled her head towards him. He looked as implacable and determined as ever. She tried to remember when her last period had been. A flush crept up her neck. Okay, maybe it had been a while ago. But she’d always had wildly irregular periods. It didn’t mean a thing. And anyway, she had definitely had one since they’d made love. Plus she’d taken a home pregnancy test. She wasn’t that stupid.

‘I took a home pregnancy test. Just in case. And it was negative.’ To her astonishment, instead of looking repentant, he narrowed his eyes.

‘When did you take it?’

‘I don’t know. A few days afterwards.’

‘And did you bother to read the instructions properly?’

‘Enough to know it was negative,’ she said firmly, the guilty blush spreading across her cheeks. Okay, she hadn’t read all the small print—but did anyone?

‘I thought not,’ he said.

Indignation seared through her and she stiffened in her seat. ‘Don’t talk to me as if I’m an imbecile. I took the test. It was negative. Plus I’ve had a period since that night, so it’s all academic anyway.’ Even if her period had been a light one, it had been enough to put her mind at rest.

She tried to wrestle her wrist free again.

He held fast and his brows lowered ominously. ‘That night was over three months ago, and you’re telling me you’ve only had one period since?’ Exasperation sharpened every word.

‘So what? I have irregular periods.’ The blush intensified. Why was she talking to this man about her menstrual cycle? And why was she going on the defensive? ‘Read my lips,’ she said. ‘There is no child.’ The possibility didn’t even bear thinking about.

He looked at the silver Rolex on his wrist again. ‘I’ve made you an appointment with the top obstetrician in the UK. She can start by doing a pregnancy test.’

‘Who on earth do you think you are?’

‘Quite possibly the father of your child,’ he shot back without even blinking. ‘The condom broke, Louisa,’ he said. ‘You know that.’ He let go of her wrist at last and proceeded to count off his points on the fingers of one hand. ‘You haven’t had a period in months. You had what could easily have been a bout of morning sickness a few weeks back, and your breasts are definitely fuller. You’re taking another pregnancy test. A proper one that you can’t muck up.’

The comment about her breasts had the flush blazing across her chest like a brush fire. ‘I’m not pregnant. And even if I were…’ which she most definitely was not ‘…what makes you so sure you’re the father? For all you know I could be a complete slapper. I could have slept with ten other guys since that night. I could have slept with twenty,’ she finished on a note of bravado.

‘Yeah, but you didn’t,’ he said, with such certainty she wanted to slap him.

‘Oh, I see.’ Did the man’s ego know no bounds? ‘You think you were so memorable you spoiled me for other guys. Is that it?’ She was prepared to lie through her teeth rather than let him know the truth. ‘Believe me, you weren’t.’

He huffed out a breath and stared out through the windshield. ‘Stop pretending you’re something you’re not.’ He turned back to her. Was that pity or regret she could see in his eyes? ‘I knew the flirting was an act the minute I got inside you.’

The blood burned in her cheeks, but she forced herself to flick a contemptuous glance at his crotch. ‘Right, so you’ve got radar down there, have you?’

He shook his head, gave a hollow laugh, but she was certain now the look in his eyes was pity. She hated him for it. ‘I wish I did. I would never have made love to you that night if I’d known how innocent you were.’

‘Well, isn’t that noble of you?’ she sneered back, only realising after the fact that she’d as good as agreed with him. ‘There’s no need to feel guilty on my account. I wasn’t a virgin,’ she said, trying to regain the ground.

‘I know, but you were the next best thing.’ He sighed again. ‘I’m sorry for what happened that night. I figured you knew the score. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

Yes, you did, she thought bitterly, but didn’t say it. This was all too personal. If he saw how vulnerable she was, it would only humiliate her more.

‘I’m sure this heart-to-heart is all very touching. But it doesn’t change the fact that we’ve got nothing left to discuss.’

‘We’ll decide that once you’ve had the pregnancy test.’

The he-who-shall-be-obeyed tone was back.

She could have argued with him. She probably should have. But she felt unbearably weary all of a sudden, and over-emotional. She just wanted to get this over with now. So she never, ever had to see this man again.

Submitting to a quick pregnancy test seemed like a relatively small price to pay. And she was already relishing exactly what she was going to say to him when it turned up negative.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘CONGRATULATIONS, Miss DiMarco, you’re pregnant.’

Louisa’s heartbeat kicked so hard in her chest she thought she might be having a heart attack. She gaped at Dr Lester’s encouraging smile, her hands fisting on the arms of her chair.

Forget The Twilight Zone—she’d just entered an alternative reality. She couldn’t possibly have heard that right. ‘Excuse me, what did you say?’ Her voice sounded small and far away. Appropriate, really, seeing as it was coming from another dimension.

‘You’re expecting a baby, my dear.’ The doctor glanced down at the test results, which had taken about ten minutes to come through from the on-site lab. ‘In fact it’s a very strong positive. From the hormone levels I’d say you’re at least three months pregnant. Either that, or you’re expecting twins.’

Louisa’s hands started to shake. She gripped the chair even harder, worried she might collapse in a heap on the floor.

‘Can you tell us the due date?’ Devereaux asked from beside her.

Louisa looked at him in a daze. She’d forgotten he was even there.

She hadn’t objected to him coming in with her to get the results. This was supposed to be her big I-told-you-so moment. She would have put up much more of a fight if she’d known what he would actually be witnessing was her life going in to freefall. He didn’t look smug, though, or particularly overjoyed with his victory. He looked calm and in complete control. His reaction, if he’d even had one, had been carefully masked. It almost made her wish for smug.

‘How about we do a quick ultrasound scan?’ the doctor replied. ‘We’ve got the equipment in the next room. We can check how the baby’s doing and give you a more exact date.’

‘Don’t be silly—there is no baby.’ Louisa cleared her throat, tried to halt the panic making her tongue go numb. ‘You must have made a mistake. I’m not pregnant. I took a pregnancy test myself. And I had a period…’ She paused. He would know how inexperienced she really was if she continued. Looking at the doctor’s encouraging smile, it occurred to her that what he did or didn’t know about her lack of a sex life since that night was probably academic now. And why should she care anyway? She forced herself to continue. ‘I haven’t been with anyone else since.’

The doctor sat down at her desk and steepled her fingers. ‘What brand of home pregnancy test did you use and when did you take it?’

‘I don’t…’ She hesitated, tried to remember, but all she could think about was how relieved she’d been when the stick had stayed clear. ‘I’m not sure about the brand. But I took the test about a week, or maybe a bit less, after we…’ She swallowed. This was hideous. ‘After our night together.’ She’d been frantic, after all.

‘Okay,’ Dr Lester said gently. ‘Some home test kits are very sensitive. Others aren’t. And they can give you what’s called a false negative if you take them too soon. Now.’ She propped her elbows on her desk, gave Louisa an enquiring look. ‘How heavy was the period you had, and when did it occur after intercourse?’

Louisa realised her face was probably vermilion by now. ‘Maybe a week or two afterwards, and it was fairly light.’

‘What you had was spotting. Not uncommon around the time of implantation.’

‘I thought you could only get pregnant in the middle, during ovulation.’ It was another of the reasons she had been sure she wasn’t pregnant.

The doctor simply smiled. ‘Fertilisation can occur at any time, my dear. Especially if the couple are young or exceptionally fertile.’

The blood pumped into her cheeks and spread out across her neck.

‘Does the spotting mean there could be harm to the baby?’ Devereaux said.

Louisa kept her eyes on the doctor, determined not to even look at him. The whole situation suddenly felt surreal. As if she were having an out-of-body experience. How could she be pregnant by this man? She who hadn’t intended to even think about the possibility of having children for at least another ten years. She was only twenty-six. She’d worked so hard to get where she was. Killed herself at school to take her A-levels a year early. Had slaved in odd jobs to pay her way through university, done night shifts and overtime at London Nights to establish herself in the mostly male world of local reporting, and then finally fled from the ‘anything for a story’ ethos to establish herself as a features writer on Blush. She was proud of what she’d achieved. Blush was a brilliantly written magazine that didn’t just concern itself with the things that made women look and feel good, but also with the whole realm of the female experience. Now all that was in jeopardy because she’d made a foolish, reckless mistake. She’d fallen for a man who not only didn’t care a hoot about her, but had the sperm of a prize-winning bull.

Fantastic, Louisa, you’ve really topped yourself this time.

‘Don’t worry about the spotting, Lord Berwick,’ the doctor said indulgently. ‘I’m sure your baby is fine. As I said, the test results show the pregnancy is firmly established. But I think an ultrasound scan will put everyone’s mind at rest.’ She smiled at Louisa, who was still processing the ‘your baby’ comment. ‘Why don’t you go through to the ultrasound suite, Miss DiMarco? It’s right next door.’

After that little speech Louisa was surprised the woman had even put a question mark at the end of her sentence. It was clear the good doctor knew who was paying the bill. Louisa debated refusing to submit to the procedure. She slanted a look at Devereaux, who was watching her, his mouth set in a thin line of determination.

Not just the sperm of a bull, but the stubbornness to match.

She gave a heavy sigh. ‘All right,’ she said, standing up.

She walked to the door the doctor had indicated on watery legs.

Maybe there was still a small chance that this was all a hideous mistake, and when the doctor got her ultrasound equipment out she wouldn’t find a baby after all.

‘There’s the head and the spine,’ the doctor said enthusiastically, pointing at the sepia-toned three-dimensional image.

‘That’s incredible,’ Devereaux said in hushed tones. ‘It’s so clear.’

‘We have the newest, most state-of-the-art equipment here. We’re very proud of…’

Louisa tuned out their conversation, transfixed by the bright, incandescent image.

The coolness of the gel on her skin, the press of the ultrasound wand, even the rapid ticks of the baby’s heartbeat being monitored by the machinery faded into oblivion as Louisa stared at the tiny arms and legs, the large head, the perfectly formed little body.

I’m looking at my baby.

The words flickered in her consciousness, and then a dizzying sense of awe surged through the dense fog of self-pity.

The doctor adjusted the wand and then tapped a few buttons. A close-up of the baby’s face appeared as if by magic. Its eyes were closed, one tiny little fist covering its nose and mouth.

‘What’s it doing?’ Louisa heard her voice coming from miles away.

The doctor laughed. ‘Why, I think it’s trying to suck its thumb.’

Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.

Tears stung Louisa’s eyes and she tried to blink them back. All this time she’d been thinking about herself, about how this whole situation was going to affect her, when there was a much more important life at stake—that of her child.

The baby hadn’t seemed real until this moment, but now guilt engulfed her. Whatever her problems with Devereaux—however much this pregnancy would change her life, her dreams—she would never regret the miracle growing inside her. But she’d be bringing this perfect little person into the world without any of the things she herself had taken for granted—a loving two-parent home, a stable family life.

As it always did, thoughts of her childhood brought back memories of her mother. Louisa let out a shaky sigh. If only she could talk to her mother now, just one more time. She trembled, the echo of long-remembered grief making the tears spill over her lids and run down her face. She reached up to wipe her cheeks, but strong fingers took hold of her wrist.

She looked up to see Devereaux staring down at her from his seat beside the couch, his expression unreadable in the darkened room. He pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and dabbed at her hairline, then skimmed the clean-smelling linen across her temples. When he’d finished, he put the handkerchief in her hand and closed his fist around her shaking fingers.

He squeezed and let go. ‘You okay?’ he asked quietly.

Hardly, she thought, but sniffed, burying her nose in his handkerchief to buy time. All she needed now was for him to be nice to her and she’d turn into a gibbering wreck.

‘Yes, of course,’ she said, as soon as she could speak, struggling to sound as matter-of-fact as possible while her insides were turning to mush.

He watched her a moment longer, those steely eyes giving absolutely nothing away, then turned back to the doctor, who was busy fiddling with her state-of-the-art equipment.

‘Right, I’ve checked all the vital organs and everything seems to be developing well,’ the doctor said at last, swinging round to address them both. ‘I must say the foetus is a little long for dates.’ She smiled benignly at Louisa, then spoke to Devereaux. ‘Can I ask how tall you are, Lord Berwick?’

‘Call me Luke,’ he said absently. ‘I’m six-three.’

‘That explains it, then,’ the doctor said, putting the ultrasound wand back in its holder. She wiped the remaining gel off Louisa’s belly and then gave her an indulgent smile. ‘As long as Miss DiMarco’s sure she couldn’t have conceived a week or so earlier?’

Try three years, Louisa thought grimly.

‘The baby’s mine,’ Devereaux said with absolute certainty, before Louisa had a chance to answer. ‘It was conceived on the twenty-fifth of May.’

Louisa’s fingers clutched the robe as she wrapped it around her abdomen, all her soft feelings towards him squashed flat. He really was the most arrogant man on the planet. She wanted to tell him where he could shove his assumptions, but she couldn’t. Unfortunately he was right. The beautiful little human being on the screen in front of her was his child.

Louisa sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly.

As the doctor began to waffle on about due dates, percentile growth scales and antenatal vitamins, Louisa watched Devereaux listening to the doctor’s instructions, his harshly handsome face illuminated by the frozen image of their baby.

Their baby.

She sighed and stared at the screen again. The child growing in her womb meant that no matter what she did, no matter where she went, she would always have a connection to this man. This demanding, domineering, ruthless man who had hurt her so terribly once. A man who had tricked her into thinking he was the man of her dreams and then made her feel like a fool.

Exactly what kind of father had she given her unborn child?

Tears clogged her throat again. She couldn’t think about that now; it was too big a question to contemplate and far too soon to worry about it. She gulped the tears down hastily.

How ironic, though, that the most incredible, the most amazing moment of her life had also turned out to be the most devastating. Now she knew how David must have felt when he was aiming his pea-shooter at Goliath.

CHAPTER FIVE

LUKE shifted into second gear to take the turn into Regent’s Park and glanced at the woman sitting silently in the passenger seat. Only the high curve of her cheekbone was visible behind the glossy curtain of hair. The burnished blonde highlights haloed round her head in the sunshine. She’d been staring out the window for the last ten minutes. Not only that, but she’d said barely three words since they’d left the ultrasound suite.

It was starting to worry him.

From his short association with Louisa DiMarco he knew she wasn’t the quiet type. On their one and only date he’d been captivated by her bright, sharply witty and pretty much non-stop chatter despite himself. Of course he’d witnessed a much sharper side to her tongue once he’d told her who he was. But he’d still prefer those rapier-sharp barbs to this oppressive silence.

He pressed his foot on the accelerator. The park had a twenty-mile-per-hour speed limit, but at three o’clock on a Friday afternoon, and with the weathermen forecasting glorious sunshine across the country for the whole weekend, the sweltering city was already deserted.

As the majestic avenue of oak and maple trees whisked past, the dappled shade bringing some respite from the afternoon heat, Luke contemplated Louisa’s reaction. Maybe her silence was a blessing in disguise. He needed a chance to regroup, reanalyse the situation, rethink his position as well.

In all the time he’d spent brooding since yesterday—his resentment building at her irresponsible behaviour—it had never even occurred to him that she might not know she was expecting a child. Weren’t women supposed to have a sixth sense about this sort of thing?

But she’d had absolutely no clue—no inkling. As she’d lain on the doctor’s couch, looking fragile in the oversized robe, the naked shock on her face had been genuine.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked from beside him, interrupting his train of thought. She still wasn’t looking at him.

‘To your place,’ he said.

She turned, then, looking mildly surprised. ‘Do you remember where it is?’

He nodded, not quite able to speak as he took in the stunning face that he could now admit had been lodged in his brain for twelve agonising weeks—the rich chocolate-brown eyes, the full lips, the high cheekbones and the honey-toned skin that he knew tasted as sweet as it looked.

He remembered every detail from that night—not just her address. The chilly spring air as they had strolled through Regent’s Park after leaving Mel and Jack’s. The feel of her warm, lush young body pressed against his side. The fresh scent of the petal blossom that had blown over them in the breeze. Her captivating laughter when she’d tried to catch it as she danced down the path in front of him, her arms outstretched. The rich taste of the late-night cappuccino they’d shared on Camden High Street, and the flirtatious way she’d licked the milky foam off her lips.

And even more devastating than those memories were the ones that had come after.

Her arms clinging around his neck as he carried her into her tiny flat. The taste of her mouth on his—strong coffee and sultry innocence—as he bared her breasts in the cramped hallway. Those shocked sobs she’d given as he’d stroked her to her first climax, and then the feel of her, tight as a velvet fist around him, as he rocked them both to a brutal, devastating finish.

Yes, he remembered a lot more than just her address.

She stared out the window again. ‘I need to go back to the office, actually. I’d appreciate it if you’d drop me there.’

‘I’m taking you to Havensmere.’ He might have to rethink a few things, but his main plan was still solid. ‘We’re only stopping at your place to pick up your stuff.’

Her head whipped round, her eyes darkening to a vivid black. He braced himself, more than ready for the onslaught.

Louisa’s insides were still pretty much mush, but the indignation sprinting up her backbone gave her energy levels a considerable boost. ‘You know what, Devereaux? I don’t have to do what you tell me. So you’d better get over that little delusion right now.’

She watched him brake at the lights. His eyes flicked to her waist. ‘Under the circumstances, you should call me Luke,’ he said calmly.

‘I’ll call you what I like, Devereaux.’ It was petty and rude, and she knew it, but she didn’t want to call him Luke. She’d called him Luke that night.