The Baby Secret

She just hadn’t dreamt William felt like that about her, she told herself in amazement. Not in a hundred years. In fact she was beginning to think that the whole male population was a species apart. Why hadn’t he said something? She glanced at him now as he tucked into an enormous fillet steak with every appearance of enjoyment, to all intents and purposes perfectly relaxed.

Could she have ever felt that certain spark with William? He was certainly good-looking, with his wavy dark hair and brown eyes with little flecks of green, straight nose and smiling mouth. He was tall too, not as tall as Zac’s six feet four, but William was a good six inches taller than her and lean and fit with it. But he was right. She lowered her eyes to her plate and pecked at her salad. She did look on him as a brother. Loved him as a brother actually... But there was nothing romantic there.

‘How long does this morning sickness go on?’ William asked suddenly, and she glanced up to see a look of concern in his gentle eyes. ‘You’re getting as thin as a rake.’

‘A few more weeks yet, I think.’ She sighed wearily. ‘And I only wish it was morning sickness. With me it’s every hour of the day and night sickness, and then a bit. I was even sick in the middle of the night when I got up to go to the loo. And that’s another inconvenient something no one tells you about—my bladder has developed a life of its own,’ she finished plaintively.

‘Poor old love.’ But he was laughing and she couldn’t help a rueful grin back, which swiftly faded when he said, his tone serious now, ‘You do know you’re going to have to tell him sooner or later? It’s his child too, Blue-eyes. You can’t keep something like that from a man. This idea of disappearing is a non-starter.’

‘What’s this, the eternal brotherhood?’ she asked grumpily. But he was right. She knew he was right. And she also knew she was going to have the dickens of a fight on her hands once Zac knew she was carrying his child. But she wasn’t going to give in.

They left the restaurant arm in arm, and as always Victoria felt better for having talked to William, after crying most of the long, lonely night away, lying awake until the early hours.

She had moved into the tiny, one-bedroomed flat she was renting the day before, and amazingly it had been her mother who had been instrumental in her finding the little treasure of a place tucked away in Richmond. It belonged to the daughter of one of Coral’s bridge partners, apparently, who was away working in America for twelve months and had decided to rent out if she could get a suitable lodger. Victoria was considered suitable, and so that was that and she was installed before she knew it.

Victoria had been only too grateful to find somewhere so quickly—the three days she had spent at her mother’s apartment on her return to England had been more than enough for both women. And how Coral would react when she found out she was going to be a grandmother, Victoria didn’t even like to contemplate. She was barely speaking to her daughter as it was, and Coral had told her flatly—in the first minute of their meeting on Victoria’s return to England—that she considered Victoria totally responsible for the breakdown of her marriage.

As though he had picked up her thoughts, William stopped her on the pavement just outside the restaurant and enclosed her lightly in his arms, looking down into her face as he said, ‘How is your mother behaving in all this, or don’t I need to ask?’

‘About as you’d expect,’ Victoria said with justified bitterness. ‘Everything is all my fault and Zac can’t do anything wrong.’

‘She’s one on her own. It’s hard to believe—’

Victoria never did find out what William found hard to believe, because in the next moment, as she stood relaxed in his arms, her head tilted as she looked up into the face of this tried and trusted friend, a dark, cold voice at the side of them brought her jerking out of William’s hold as though something had bitten her. Which in a way it had, she thought shakily as her heart continued to beat like a crazy thing.

‘I hate to interrupt what is obviously a tender moment, but I want a word with my wife.’ Ice tinkled in every word.

‘Zac.’ Victoria stumbled backwards and would have fallen but for Zac’s quick hand at her elbow, which immediately returned to his side when she was steady, as though he couldn’t bear to touch her. ‘What...? How did you...?’ she stammered incoherently.

‘Let’s cut the “what are you doing here?” scenario,’ Zac grated with icy contempt. ‘I’m sure we can do better than that.’

He looked magnificent. That was Victoria’s first jumbled thought. Followed by, And angry. Definitely furiously, murderously angry. He was in a business suit, clearly having come from the office, and in spite of the rage that was turning the dark eyes into brilliantly black bullets and his beautifully chiselled mouth into a hard, straight line his control was absolute.

‘Zac, this isn’t a good moment,’ she began tremblingly.

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