The Pregnancy Proposal

‘Which you choose to interpret as me preferring an open relationship with no legal ties?’

His slight hesitation together with his choice of words had provided an answer.

‘Yes.’

‘And you couldn’t possibly be wrong?’

Do you know how desperately I want to be wrong? She felt like railing at him. I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life…as your wife, the mother of your children. But not, dear God, as a second-best choice borne out of duty. I’d rather be alone than know I’d forced you into a role you didn’t want.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘But you’re not sure?’

‘Don’t use counsellor tactics on me. Save them for the courtroom.’

Without a further word she turned and walked down the hall to the master bedroom where she caught up her wrap, a few essential toiletries, and made her way to the guest room. Only to come face-to-face with Jared.

She registered the suit jacket hooked over one shoulder, the loosened tie and the semi-unbuttoned shirt. It lent him a rakish look and succeeded in activating a spiral of sensation she fought to restrain.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ His appraisal was swift, and his eyes darkened as she made to move past him.

‘Sleeping in the spare room.’

She could sense the tension in his large body, the tightening of muscle and sinew as he exercised control. ‘The hell you are.’

The deadly softness of his voice issued a warning she elected to ignore. ‘I don’t want to have sex with you.’

His gaze hardened, a fractional shift of his features that reminded her of a panther’s stillness the moment before it leapt to attack. ‘I accept that. But we share the same bed.’

And risk succumbing to his brand of subtle persuasion?

She was all too aware it would only take the glide of his hand on her hip, the familiar trail to her belly and the gentle but sure fingers seeking the soft folds at the juncture of her thighs to rouse her into semi-wakefulness and turn to him in the night.

By the time she remembered, it would be too late, and she’d be lost. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Tasha—’

‘Don’t.’ She lifted a hand, then let it fall to her side. ‘Please,’ she added. ‘I want to be alone right now.’

It was the please that got to him.

‘We need to talk.’

‘We’ve already done that.’ Her voice was even, calm, when inside she was breaking apart. Hurting so badly, so deeply, she’d probably bear the scars from it for the rest of her life.

His gaze locked with hers, the force of his will vying with her own for long, timeless seconds, then he moved aside to let her pass.

The guest room held its own linen closet, and she undressed, donned her wrap, removed her make-up, then she made up the bed, slid between the cool percale sheets and switched off the bedlamp.

Sleep came easily, but she woke in the early hours of the morning, momentarily disoriented by her surroundings until she remembered where she was and why.

The bed was comfortable, but she wasn’t curled in against Jared’s muscled frame as he held her close, even in sleep. She missed the steady beat of his heart, his reassuring warmth. The way he seemed to sense when she stirred during the night, how he’d gather her in and press his lips to the curve of her shoulder.

Inevitably it would lead to lovemaking, and she delighted in the fact he could never get enough of her. Secure in the relationship and what they shared.

Not any more, a tiny voice taunted. You blew it.

It was then the tears began to well, spilling over to slip in slow rivulets to her temples and become lost in her hair.

Tasha lay awake, staring at the darkened ceiling until the grey light of an early dawn crept between the shutters, giving the room shape and form, followed by subtle shades of colour.

It was too soon to rise and meet the day, and any further hope of sleep was out of the question. She could slip into the master suite and retrieve what she needed to wear into the office. Except she’d encounter Jared…something that was unavoidable, but she’d prefer to face him when they were both dressed. Which meant she’d need to wait until six-thirty, when he left the apartment for his daily workout in the downstairs gym.

At six-forty she took a leisurely shower in the hope it would ease the tiredness. It didn’t, and she brushed her hair until her scalp tingled.

With care she tidied the bed, caught up the clothes she’d worn the previous evening, and entered the master suite.

The large bed bore witness of Jared’s occupation, the covers a tangled mess, the pillows bunched at different angles. So he hadn’t had an easy night of it, either.

Somehow the thought gave her pleasure as she crossed to the large walk-in wardrobe.

Clothes were everything, and she began with her sexiest underwear, pulled on the sheerest tights, added a new suit she’d bought only the week before but hadn’t worn, and slid her feet into killer stiletto-heeled shoes. Then she collected her bag of cosmetics and returned down the hall to the guest suite.

Make-up was both an art form and a weapon, and she took extra care with its application, highlighting her eyes before sweeping her hair into a smooth chignon. A touch of perfume, and she was about as ready as she’d ever be to face whatever the day might bring.

Any hope of escaping the apartment before Jared’s return died as she entered the kitchen and saw him seated at the breakfast table sipping black coffee as he scanned the morning’s newspaper.

His usual routine on return from the gym was to shower, shave, dress, eat, then leave for the city.

This morning he’d chosen to reverse the process, and the sight of him in sweats, his hair ruffled from exertion, and looking incredibly physical sent the blood racing through her veins.

He lifted his head and his gaze seared hers. It gave him no pleasure to see the carefully masked signs showing she hadn’t slept any better than he had.

‘Coffee’s hot.’

Tasha made tea, added milk, slid bread into the toaster, then peeled and ate a banana as she waited for the toast to pop. When it did, she spread honey, and carried both tea and toast to the table.

Begin as you mean to go on, she bade silently. Anything less is a compromise you don’t want to make.

‘I’ll arrange an apartment of my own within the next few days,’ she said quietly. She took a deep breath, then released it slowly. Her throat felt as if it were closing over, and she swallowed in an attempt to ease the restriction.

‘You think I’ll allow you to do that?’ His voice was quiet, much too quiet.

She was willing to swear she stopped breathing, and for a few timeless seconds she wasn’t capable of summoning a coherent word.

‘It’s not your decision to make,’ she managed at last.

‘No?’ The silky tone held something she didn’t care to define.

‘My child, my body.’ It was as if she was hell-bent on treading a path to self-destruction.

‘Our child,’ he corrected. ‘Our decision.’ He stood to his feet, aware he outmatched her in height, size and weight. He caught the faint flicker of alarm in her eyes and derived satisfaction from it. Dammit, he’d take any advantage he could get.

She stood her ground. ‘I’ve already made my decision.’

‘Change it.’

She checked her watch. ‘I have to leave, or I’ll be late.’ She collected her briefcase and walked from the apartment, then she took the lift down to the basement car park, slid into the BMW and sent it up to street-level.

Focusing on work took all her concentration, and it didn’t sit well when a para-legal pointed out something she’d missed, when she should have picked up on it. A minor error, but it gave her pause for thought.

Tasha’s lunch was a sandwich she sent out for, which she ate at her desk in between contacting real-estate agents. The sooner she tied up a lease on an apartment the better, and she made appointments to view at the end of her working day.

The afternoon didn’t fare much better, and it was a relief to join the building’s general exodus shortly after five.

Her first appointment didn’t work out. She could have ignored the female agent’s over-the-top presentation if the apartment had lived up to expectations. It didn’t, and what was more the rental was way overpriced.

The second was an improvement, but Tasha didn’t like the location.

‘I can get you anything you want if you’re prepared to pay,’ the agent snapped. ‘Both apartments I’ve shown you are in the price-range you quoted.’

‘I have a few others to see tomorrow,’ she dismissed coolly. ‘I’ll get back to you.’

Going home held a new connotation. She was very aware the apartment and everything in it belonged to Jared. Clothes and select items of jewellery comprised her possessions. She’d given up a lease on her own apartment and her furniture had been put in storage when she’d moved in with Jared.

The muted ring of her cell-phone sounded from inside her bag, and she retrieved it, checked the caller ID and felt her stomach muscles tighten. Jared.

‘Where in hell are you?’

‘Three blocks away at a set of traffic lights,’ she answered reasonably.

‘It’s almost seven. You didn’t think to call and say you’d be late?’

‘I lost track of time.’ The lights changed and cars up front began to move. ‘Got to go.’ She cut the connection before he had a chance to respond.

Jared was standing in the lounge, hands thrust into his trouser pockets, when she entered the apartment. The adopted casual stance belied the tense set of his features.

‘Perhaps you’d care to explain?’

There was nothing like the truth. ‘I was viewing apartments with an agent.’ She began loosening the buttons on her jacket, only to pause part-way when she remembered all she wore beneath it was a bra…a very skimpy number that was little more than a scrap of moulded red lace.

Tasha saw his eyes flare, then harden as she refastened the buttons.

‘A useless exercise. You’re not going anywhere.’

Calm. All she needed to do was to remain calm. ‘I don’t believe you have the right to tell me what I can or can’t do.’

Jared lifted an arm and indicated the room. ‘Why move out when we can share this apartment?’

See you every morning, every night? Separate bedrooms, separate meals, polite conversation? And die a little every time? ‘I don’t think so,’ she responded with a politeness that belied her emotions.

‘Tasha.’ His voice held a silky warning she chose to ignore, and her expression held a mix of fearless pride.

‘I have no intention of denying you access,’ she managed quietly.

‘To you?’

She didn’t misunderstand his implication. ‘To the child,’ she elaborated.

‘Unlimited time. Your place or mine, but I don’t get to stay?’

‘I don’t want the child to sense its father might only be a temporary entity who might choose to walk out of its life at any time.’

His gaze hardened measurably. ‘You must know I would never do that.’

‘Perhaps not.’ She waited a beat. ‘However, your future wife may not be so keen to welcome a child from a previous relationship.’

‘As you will be my wife, that doesn’t apply.’

One fine eyebrow arched in silent query. ‘Another proposal you expect me to accept, when I know that, had it not been for the child, marriage was never your intention? Thanks, but no, thanks.’

A muscle tensed at the edge of his jaw. ‘I don’t recall saying marriage wasn’t my intention.’

He was good, very good. But wasn’t it the skill of his chosen profession to utilise words to their best advantage? To confuse the defendant and cleverly persuade admissions which otherwise might be withheld?

‘You didn’t need to.’

‘You’re being ridiculously stubborn.’

‘Am I?’ She drew in a short breath and released it. ‘I guess that’s my prerogative.’ It took considerable courage to hold his gaze. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to go freshen up.’ She checked her watch, and grimaced ruefully. ‘I’m already late.’

‘Late for what?’

Jared’s voice held an ominous thread she chose to ignore. ‘Eloise rang to say Simon is out of town for a few days, and I suggested we meet for dinner.’

‘A girls’ night out?’

‘Yes.’ She moved past him and entered the bedroom she’d occupied the night before. It didn’t take long to freshen up, repair her make-up and re-do her hair.

Jared watched her emerge into the lounge, and experienced the familiar surge of desire. She was everything he wanted, all he needed. Dammit, she was his.

The thought of any other man coming near her…worse, being given the right, almost undid him.

Did she have any conception of how he’d managed to get through the day without seriously impairing his reputation?

‘Tasha.’

She turned as she reached the door, watchful as he closed the distance between them. ‘Yes?’

‘You forgot something.’

A puzzled frown creased her forehead. Purse, keys… ‘I don’t think so.’

‘This,’ he murmured as he cupped a hand to her face and brushed his lips to her own, lingered, then he deepened the kiss to something warmly evocative before lifting his head.

He smiled faintly at her slight confusion, aware of her response for an unguarded instant. ‘Drive carefully.’

Oh, God, she agonised as she rode the lift down to the basement car park. Why did he have to do that? She could still feel the slow sweep of his tongue on her own, the pressure of his mouth. Not to mention the quickened beat of her heart.

She made a quick call to Eloise from her cell-phone to say she was running late, then she drove the car to street-level.

Traffic was heavy, with a number of vehicles heading for the city, and it was almost eight when she entered the restaurant.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Tasha offered as she slid into the seat opposite Eloise.

The attractive blonde smiled and indicated her half-empty glass of wine. ‘A gentleman had the waiter bring me champagne with his compliments. And a note offering his—er—services for the evening.’

‘Naturally you declined.’

‘It was tempting,’ Eloise relayed solemnly, and Tasha bit back a mischievous laugh. She’d known Eloise since their pre-teen years when they’d commiserated over pimples, teeth braces, and lusted after the male television and movie stars of the moment.

Relationships, they’d experienced a few, and supported each other when they fell apart. Now Eloise was happily married to Simon, and Tasha was with Jared…and pregnant.

Tasha picked up the menu. ‘OK, what are we eating?’

The drinks waiter arrived, and she requested chilled mineral water.

‘I’m driving.’ It was a weak excuse, and she knew it. ‘So am I,’ Eloise stated. ‘But one glass won’t pitch either of us over the legal limit.’

They ordered, choosing an entrée, skipped the main, and settled on fresh fruit, cheese and crackers instead of dessert.

‘It’s no fun being virtuous.’

Tasha sipped from her glass, then replaced it onto the table. ‘Speak for yourself.’

‘I thought Jared might have been with you.’

‘Disappointed?’

‘Not in the least. We rarely get to go out on our own.’

‘Without the men of the moment.’

‘OK, what gives?’

Tasha picked up her glass and took a leisurely sip. ‘What makes you think anything does?’

‘Too many years of friendship. Are you going to talk, or do we continue to pretend nothing’s wrong?’

Eloise would know soon enough, so it might as well be now. ‘I’m pregnant.’

‘You’re kidding me.’

‘I wish.’

‘What do you mean, you wish? Maybe the timing isn’t right, but Tasha…a baby. I think it’s wonderful.’ She leaned forward. ‘So when’s the wedding?’

‘There isn’t going to be one.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘I’m not going to marry Jared.’

‘This is serious stuff.’ Eloise pushed her plate to one side and leaned forward. ‘Didn’t he ask you?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you refused? Are you insane?’

Quite possibly. ‘I don’t want marriage just because it serves a purpose.’

‘Stubborn,’ Eloise declared with brutal honesty. ‘You’re being ridiculously, pathetically stubborn.’

‘Stubborn, huh?’

‘Forget the dream, and go with reality. Marry the man.’

‘Sure,’ Tasha agreed. ‘And wonder if it’ll last? If he’ll be enticed by the excitement of an affair…singular or plural. Consign the wife and child to one side and indulge in extramarital sex.’

‘Many marriages exist and survive in those circumstances.’

‘More fool the wives who condone them.’

‘You’d be surprised how many do.’

‘In exchange for the mansion, social and professional status, overseas trips…not to mention their husband’s wealth,’ Tasha concluded cynically.

‘Better the legal advantage of wife, than mistress.’

‘So…why not me? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘What will change?’ Eloise demanded. ‘You adore the guy, he clearly adores you. Dammit, you’ve lived together for two years. So, the pregnancy wasn’t planned. So what? It happened, and it can’t be undone. Well, it can, but, knowing you, you wouldn’t consider abortion as an option.’

‘No.’

‘You’ll deny your child a live-in father and the stable relationship of two full-time parents…because of stubborn pride?’

‘You don’t understand.’

‘Take a reality check, Tasha.’

‘You didn’t settle for anything less than love.’

‘If you remember, it was a rocky path to the altar.’

Rocky was an understatement, she reflected. An engagement that was more off than on. Yet Eloise and Simon had resolved their differences, and as far as she could tell the magic that had shimmered beneath the surface was still there.

‘So you think I’m being a fool?’

‘Yes.’

There was nothing like the honesty given from the benefit of a long friendship! ‘Yet you know I’m going to do it my way, regardless?’

‘I don’t have the slightest doubt.’

Minutes later another waiter presented them with a tastefully decorated platter of fresh fruit, assorted nuts, cheese and crackers.

‘Enough about me,’ Tasha dismissed as the waiter took their order for tea and coffee. ‘How’s business?’ Eloise was a high-flying executive in a public-relations firm who dealt with an interesting range of clients.

‘Hectic.’ The attractive blonde grimaced slightly. ‘Simon’s flight arrives from Tokyo an hour before mine departs for Sydney.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘We’ll be lucky if we catch sight of each other. There’s a lot to be said for the nine-to-five daily grind.’

‘As opposed to fame and fortune?’ Simon dealt in corporate real estate, worldwide, setting up multimillion-dollar deals involving buildings, hotels. Formerly based in New York, he’d made his home in Brisbane following his marriage to Eloise.

‘I guess it would be selfish to want both?’

‘Not possible,’ Tasha opined solemnly.

‘Because there’s no such thing as a perfect world?’

‘Something like that.’

It was almost eleven when they left the restaurant. The adjacent parking area was well-lit, and Eloise’s car occupied the bay next to her own.

‘I’ll be in touch,’ Eloise promised as she unlocked her door. ‘Take care, Tasha, and think about what I said.’

‘Shall do.’

The possibility Eloise was right didn’t escape her as she followed her friend’s car onto street-level.

It was a beautiful night, the sky a deep indigo sprinkled with stars and a sickle moon. Bright lights, colourful neon, traffic. Reflections of the sky-scape evident in the smooth waters of the city river.

Self-castigation was not an uplifting experience, Tasha determined as she took the exit lane from the bridge.

What was wrong with her? Why not accept Jared’s proposal, enjoy being Mrs Jared North, gift her child legitimacy, and to hell with her high ideals?

She needed her head read. Anyone else would go eagerly into the marriage and be content with whatever Jared offered. She knew he cared for her. So what if lust was a poor substitute for love?

Any number of women would be willing to settle for less, given Jared’s personal wealth, professional and social status. He was a generous man, in bed and out of it. Wasn’t that enough?

Was she a fool for wanting it all?

The answer had to be an unequivocal yes.

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