He swung the car around and headed back to Balmain.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AFTER MITCH WALKED OUT Zoe was in such a state of shock she couldn’t think straight. She immediately began to worry if she had done the right thing in concealing her pregnancy from him.
She hadn’t just concealed it—she had lied about it. She had out-and-out lied to Mitch by telling him she was being tested for food allergies to explain her symptoms.
Zoe smothered a semi-hysterical laugh. She wasn’t very good at deception. She’d always prided herself on her honesty. Mitch must think she was at best unbalanced; she didn’t dare think what he might call her at worst. The confusion, hurt and barely suppressed anger on his face at her ill-thought-out words had distressed her. Heaven knew how awful it had been for him.
She had decided not to continue their friendship before she’d gone to the doctor. But she’d had no intention of blurting it out to him this morning. She just wouldn’t have answered his texts, replied to his emails, until he’d got the message. She’d wanted to avoid a messy confrontation.
But that had been before she knew she was pregnant.
She paced the length of the apartment—back and forth, back and forth—totally at a loss to know what to do, until she began to feel dizzy. It seemed surreal that in the space of a few hours her world had been turned so totally upside down, leaving her staggering and disorientated—way worse than after the earthquake.
She’d discovered she was pregnant, and she’d lost Mitch when she’d only just found him.
Finally, when she truly thought she might topple over from a crippling combination of fatigue and angst, she sank into the sofa. Einstein, her dark tabby cat, looked at her with baleful eyes but allowed himself to be hugged tight.
‘What am I going to do?’ she asked the cat as she stroked him.
The rhythmic motion on his soft fur was soothing to both of them. She often talked to her cat; he was a great listener. It didn’t matter that he only answered with the occasional meow that she fancifully imagined to be a reply.
‘I’m going to have a human kitten, Einstein, and I don’t know how I’m going to cope.’
Her words echoed through the empty space, emphasising her aloneness. Einstein just purred.
In some ways she identified with the cat. He’d been a disreputable-looking stray, hanging around the warehouse complex car park. With patience and cans of tuna she’d tamed him. Once she’d established that he didn’t belong to anyone she’d adopted him.
She and Louise had called him Einstein because, as Louise had put it, ‘He’s a genius cat to have found you to dance attendance on him.’
Einstein was as fiercely independent and self-sufficient as Zoe liked to think she was. After all, she was the girl who had emancipated herself from her grandmother aged just seventeen. She’d put herself through university on her own. Got admitted as a chartered accountant. Established her business by herself.
She’d become very good at solving problems without seeking help. But she was totally unprepared for a surprise pregnancy and for bringing up a baby on her own.
Suddenly she was overwhelmed by a fierce longing for her mother. A woman desperately needed her mother with her at a time like this. And her father too. He would have given her good advice on what to do about Mitch.
Should she have told Mitch she was pregnant? Presented it as an issue they needed to look at together? After all, they’d made this baby together. Did he have a right to know he was going to be a father? Was it the wrong thing to do to keep him out of the picture? Should she tell him and make it clear she would make no demands on him—financial or otherwise?
Zoe clutched her head with both hands against the throbbing of an impending headache. Conflicting thoughts and questions she could find no answer to were banking up in her brain and banging to be let out.
She glanced at her watch. It seemed like for ever, but Mitch hadn’t been gone long. If she was quick she could catch him on his mobile phone and ask him to come back. Or meet him at the airport.
She didn’t have Mitch’s number.
They hadn’t actually exchanged phone numbers or addresses. There’d been no need to as yet. They’d planned to swap all their contact details this morning, if things had gone differently.
Could she get hold of his number from somewhere? Maybe look up his parents and call them? What kind of reception would she get from his mother? A strange young woman, calling to get her famous soccer star son’s personal phone number so she could tell him she was pregnant? As if that would happen.
She didn’t even have a clue about which airline he was flying with. And no airline would divulge passenger details to tell her if he was booked on their 2:00 p.m. flight to Madrid. If she wanted to talk to him she would have to scurry around the terminal, trying to find him. No way could she bear to do that. If he were flying first class he’d go straight to a private lounge anyway.
It seemed she’d missed her chance to tell him face to face that she was pregnant.
If she decided to tell him at some time in the future she would have to try and contact him in Madrid. Maybe she could find out who was his agent or his manager and get a message to him through them. Yeah, right. They’d think she was a groupie or a stalker—or worse.
What a mess she’d made of this.
But she’d had her reasons for not telling Mitch and they’d seemed valid at the time. For the moment she’d stick with them.
Louise would have to be told, though, when she got back at lunchtime. They were good friends as well as work colleagues. Her pregnancy would have implications for the business. It would affect the possible buyout and her plans for expansion. Nothing they wouldn’t be able to work through, though. Women got pregnant and managed their careers all the time.
It was Mitch who was her concern.
She sighed and yawned—exhausted, overwhelmed, and weary beyond measure.
‘Move over, Einstein,’ she said to her cat, so she could stretch out on the sofa beside him.
As she settled herself next to the purring cat at last she allowed herself to think about her baby—the new little person she would be bringing into the world in February. Would she/he look like her and Mitch? Her black hair with his green eyes?
Or a little boy or girl who looked just like Mitch.
She smiled at the thought and put her hand protectively on her still flat tummy. But as she drowsed into sleep she thought about how delighted her mother and father would have been to be grandparents and her smile melted into tears.
* * *
Zoe was awoken by an insistent buzzing. She struggled through layers of sleep to recognise it as the front door buzzer. Please don’t let it be a client. She couldn’t even face a delivery person, let alone some number-befuddled artiste who’d got themselves into a huge mess with their tax reporting or their quarterly Business Activity Statement.
Right now she couldn’t cope with someone spilling a shoebox full of scrappy invoices and receipts all over her desk and begging for help. Usually she’d see it as a challenge, and be delighted to assist. But today it would be the befuddled leading the befuddled.
She moved a protesting Einstein and swung herself off the sofa. Once on her feet she staggered, and had to steady herself against a sudden light-headedness. With clumsy fingers she pushed her fingers through her hair and rubbed under her eyes for smeared mascara.
‘Coming!’ she called.
It seemed to take for ever to reach the door, and Zoe took a deep breath before she opened it. She thought she was hallucinating when she saw Mitch standing there. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked again. But he was still there, as billboard-handsome as ever but with his face set in unfamiliar grim lines.
Mitch.
Joy filtered through her shock to warm her heart. He’d come back.
‘You’re...you’re meant to be at the airport,’ she managed to choke out.
He didn’t explain but rather la
unched straight into tight-lipped speech. ‘Zoe, you obviously have your reasons for saying what you did this morning. But I’m not leaving until I know the truth.’
‘I...I wanted to... I didn’t have your number and...’
The words seemed to stall in her throat. She stared at him until the lines of his face seemed to go fuzzy. Her hand flew to her mouth. She felt flushed, light-headed, nauseated. She clutched at the doorframe. For the first time in her life she was going to faint.
Zoe felt Mitch catch her, lift her into his arms, cradle her to his chest. She could hear his voice as if it were coming from a long way away.
‘Zoe... I’ve got you, Zoe.’
He carried her to a chair in the waiting area and forced her head between her knees. She was aware of his hand, warm and reassuring on her back.
‘Breathe,’ he said, his voice coming back into normal range. ‘Breathe in and out, slowly and deeply. You told me you’ve done yoga. Use your yoga breathing.’
She did as he instructed until the fog cleared. But it was an effort to lift her head.
‘Slowly,’ Mitch said. ‘Lift your head slowly.’
He handed her a paper cup of water from the cooler.
‘Just sip it,’ he said.
Obediently, she took a few sips of the cold water.
He hunkered down in front of her, his green eyes narrowed. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’
Not here. Not now. Not with her at such a disadvantage. She needed her thoughts to be clear.
Weakly, she bowed her head and didn’t answer.
‘So there is something?’ he said gruffly.
She nodded.
‘I knew it,’ he said.
‘I...I’m sorry about...this morning...the way I....’ She couldn’t force the words out. She swallowed hard but it didn’t make it any better.
‘How long since you’ve eaten?’ he said.
‘Last night...I think.’
‘When you just nibbled at your dinner? You didn’t have any breakfast?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing. I thought the doctor might want to take blood for tests. I didn’t want to have to go back another time, so I decided to fast so I could have the tests done straight away.’
It had seemed a good idea at the time. Then, after her visit to the doctor, food had been the last thing on her mind.
‘What have you got in your refrigerator? I’ll make you something to eat.’
‘There’s some bread in the freezer. Some toast, maybe?’
‘You stay here and keep sipping on that water. Whatever else might be wrong with you, it’s my bet you’re dehydrated.’
She heard him rattling around in the kitchen. Soon the smell of toast wafted towards her. Suddenly she was starving. But she took Mitch’s advice, leaned back in the chair and kept sipping water.
Within minutes he returned, with a plate holding two pieces of wholewheat toast, cut into squares. ‘I think you should eat it dry until you see if you can keep it down. Just nibble on it to start with.’
He was so kind. She flushed. What if she didn’t keep it down? How humiliating would that be in front of Mitch?
But she did keep it down. And she started to feel better. Stronger. Who knew? All she’d needed was some food.
‘Thank you so much, Mitch, for looking after me. I feel fine now.’ She wasn’t used to being pampered—found it difficult to accept it.
‘And, from that coolness in your voice, you think you’re dismissing me and that I’m going to go away. Not happening. I told you—I’m sticking with you until I get to the bottom of what’s going on.’
He’d come back to her.
It changed everything. She would have to pick her moment to tell him the truth. He was every bit as wonderful as she’d thought he was. And more. She would not find it easy to tell him she’d lied to him about something so important. That he was going to be a father.
* * *
Mitch was relieved to see the colour return to Zoe’s cheeks, the light come back to her eyes. She’d given him a fright by fainting. But it was nothing he couldn’t handle. It wasn’t uncommon for a player to pass out from the sudden pain and shock of an injury.
Why she’d fainted was what he was determined to know. And why she’d behaved the way she had earlier this morning. It didn’t make sense.
At the back of his mind was still the suspicion that there was something very wrong and she was trying to protect him from a painful truth. That was the kind explanation. What he knew for sure was that she was concealing something from him.
He didn’t give up easily—he would never have got to where he was if he had. He wasn’t going to give up on Zoe. Or leave her here to suffer by herself. She had no family. Was so fiercely independent that she wouldn’t ask for help from anyone.
He needed to catch that plane and get back to Madrid.
But he’d left her on her own once before, in a corridor at a high school. In all conscience he couldn’t to it again.
Who was he kidding? He felt more for Zoe than he ever had for a woman. It would nag at him if he left her—if he didn’t look out for her. She awoke in him a deep, almost primeval urge to protect her. He would stay with her, no matter the cost to him.
‘You said you’d cancelled your appointments for the day. Is that still the case?’ he asked.
She nodded.
‘Today’s Friday. I assume you don’t have any business plans for the weekend?’
‘No.’
‘Social engagements?’
‘None to speak off.’
‘Good.’
‘What do you mean, “good”?’
‘Because I’m taking you away. Somewhere you can get the rest you so obviously need. Somewhere we can talk. Talk until there’s no more pretence or prevarication between us. I just need to make a few calls.’
She gripped the arms of the chair. ‘You’re taking me away? What the heck do you mean by that?’
He waved his hand around to encompass her office, the living area, the view to the harbour. ‘This isn’t working for us. The city. Being in Sydney. It’s some kind of barrier. I thought we’d breached it last night. Got back to how we were in Bali. But obviously not.’
‘No,’ she said softly, looking somewhere near her feet.
‘I’m not letting you go without a fight, Zoe. If it were at all possible I’d fly us back to Bali. But that can’t happen. So I’m going to take you somewhere else.’
She looked directly up at him. ‘You’re kidnapping me, Mitch?’
‘You could call it that.’ She sure as hell wasn’t going to get away from him.
Zoe smiled. It was a watery smile, but a smile just the same. ‘I think I like the idea of being kidnapped.’
She pushed herself up from her chair. He took her elbow to support her.
‘Please don’t faint on me again,’ he said. ‘When your eyes rolled back in your head I thought—’
Those same brown eyes flashed indignation. ‘My eyes did not roll back in my head.’
‘They did.’
‘They did not. I would have felt them if they had.’
‘Okay, they didn’t,’ he said, unable to suppress a grin. ‘They just...tilted a bit.’
‘I don’t know whether to take you seriously or not.’ She shuddered theatrically. ‘That would be such an unattractive look. I wouldn’t want you to think of me as an eyes-rolled-back kind of girl.’
‘Now I don’t know whether to take you seriously or not,’ he said.
‘You’ll never know, will you?’ she said, with a challenging tilt to her chin.
She was cute. Very cute. And he was relieved to see a spark of his Zoe back again. But he wanted so much more than just a spark. He wanted the Zoe he’d been with in Bali. The Zoe he’d developed feelings for and didn’t want to let go.
She frowned. ‘But what about Madrid? Shouldn’t you be back there? I’m worried that—’
‘Let me worry about that. I can stretch my
absence until Monday. I have to fly out tomorrow evening, come what may, but I’m going to keep you locked up in my kidnapper’s lair until tomorrow afternoon. We either sort things out—’
‘Or...?’
‘Or we say goodbye for good.’
She stood very still. He could hear the ticking of the large clock on the wall behind him, the ding of incoming emails on the computer in the next room, even the faint slap of the water against the wooden piers below the building.
‘Okay,’ she said at last. ‘But I hope you don’t intend to gag and bind me and throw me in the back of your car?’
He laughed. She looked so washed out, her eyes shadowed, but that Zoe spirit was still there. ‘I wouldn’t dare,’ he said.
‘So...where are you taking me?’
‘I can’t take you to Bali, so I’m taking you to Palm Beach.’
Her face brightened. ‘Palm Beach? I love Palm Beach. Even though I’ve only ever been there a few times. Even though it’s winter.’
‘There’s a heated pool at the house.’
‘I’ve never been kidnapped before. So what do I pack...?’
‘Casual...comfortable. Something warm. It can get chilly by the sea. Oh, and walking shoes.’
Those sexy little boots wouldn’t do for long walks on the beach.
He made a few calls on his mobile phone—one of which was to postpone his flight back to Madrid. He had to admire the efficiency with which Zoe packed her small red overnight bag and flung on a black-and-white-checked coat. In less than ten minutes she was ready.
‘What about the cat?’ he asked.
‘I’ve left a note for Louise. She’ll look after him.’
‘I’m glad we don’t have to take him with us,’ he said.
She looked up at him. ‘Would you really have brought Einstein with us?’ she asked.
‘Einstein? You call your cat Einstein?’
‘Long story. I’ll tell you later.’
‘Yes. I would have brought Einstein with us if I’d had to. I don’t mind cats.’
She went very quiet again. ‘We haven’t even established whether we like dogs or cats yet, let alone—’
‘We can talk about that on the way down to the beach,’ he said. ‘Though, for the record, I love dogs and I like cats too. We had both when I was growing up. Not having a dog or a cat around the place is one of the things I miss, living in Spain.’
From Paradise...to Pregnant! Page 13
