His Secretary's Nine-Month Notice (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Cathy Williams

  ‘I do want to have a talk with you,’ Violet admitted, turning away because she could no longer bear the intensity of his gaze. ‘Maybe we should sit.’ She led the way to the low leather sofa and he followed her. She noted that he made sure to keep his distance, sitting on one of the chairs instead of on the sofa next to her.

  ‘Well,’ he drawled after a moment’s silence, during which Violet tried to get her thoughts into some kind of chronological order, ‘are you going to spit it out or will we have a protracted guessing game?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ Violet began, hesitantly. He had proposed marriage once upon what felt like a long time ago, but since then he had taken a back seat, and now she wondered whether he hadn’t had a rethink. Had he had time seriously to weigh up the pros and cons of settling down with her? Had close proximity over the past week and a half made him realise that having her around was really too much of an acquired taste?

  She thought of all the blondes who had cluttered his life. Had enforced time spent with her made him realise that he missed that type of woman? He’d never had to tailor his work schedule to accommodate any of them and, while it was one thing waxing lyrical about doing the right thing for the sake of the baby she was carrying, it was another thing altogether when he was put to the test and actually had to make sacrifices.

  She knew that he was often up when she retired to her bedroom because she was so finely tuned to the pad of his steps on the wooden landing. Two mornings ago, she had woken up to use the bathroom and she had heard him walk past her door, his footsteps barely audible. It had been two thirty in the morning. For a man who had always enjoyed complete freedom of movement, who had become accustomed to dating women who never interfered with whatever routines he had in place, he had now been put to the test, and she did wonder whether it was proving an eye-opener for him.

  All those thoughts nearly made her immediately start the process of backtracking, but then she thought of him with another woman sometime in the future... Coming by to collect their child... Zooming off in one of those fast cars of his so that he and whomever he happened to be dating could have a bonding weekend...

  ‘You’ve been thinking,’ Matt prompted. ‘Going to share any of those thoughts this side of Christmas? Because I’m all ears.’

  ‘I’ll admit that when I found out about the baby...’ she hesitated and frowned, thinking back to what seemed ages ago ‘...I wasn’t sure what your reaction was going to be. I know you were furious when I told you that I’d considered not saying anything at all, but you have to understand that I know you very well.’

  ‘A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing,’ Matt murmured. ‘It can lead to all sorts of misinformed conclusions.’

  ‘Well, yes. But, at any rate, I don’t think I would have withheld the information from you. You had to know, you had to be given the choice of what you wanted to do. It helped that I had my own source of income and you knew that there was no way you could use your money to control the situation.’

  Matt’s eyebrows shot up and he stared at her.

  ‘You know what I’m talking about, Matt,’ Violet told him drily, ‘so don’t even think of playing the innocent with me. If I’d been broke, you would have used your wealth to get me to do what you wanted and I wouldn’t have had much choice.’

  ‘That’s a terrible accusation.’ But there was a ghost of a smile on his face as he continued to look at her from under lowered lashes.

  ‘You did make me think when you hinted that you would consider taking me to court, however.’

  The smile dropped from his face instantly. ‘It was a vague threat that I would never have gone through with.’

  ‘And it was a chance I couldn’t take.’

  ‘I would like to tell you, right here and right now, that no decision of yours should be based on any apprehension on your part that I might fight you in a court of law for custody of this baby. It would never happen. If I insinuated otherwise, well, you know my nature, Violet. I’m a man accustomed to fighting the good fight when it comes to getting what I want.’

  Violet shrugged. ‘Living here with you,’ she said slowly, ‘has made me realise that you might actually mean it when you say that you would be prepared to do whatever it takes for the sake of this baby. You’ve gone beyond the call of duty when it came to...to taking care of me. That was something you hadn’t banked on and you rose to the occasion.’

  ‘Thank you for the sweeping compliment, Violet, but it’s fair to say that Marita did pull her weight. Had you had to rely on my culinary skills, you probably wouldn’t be sitting here being quite so effusive in your praise.’

  But he was still wary of what she was about to say. Violet could sense that underneath the easy charm and the lazy banter. She knew the way his mind worked. He would be predicting, forecasting, mentally trying to piece together a puzzle that was still missing a few parts. Matt Falconer was a guy who was always a dozen steps ahead of everyone else. It occurred to her that she had turned that routine firmly on its head and she marvelled that he had gone with the flow instead of trying to fight against the current.

  ‘You told me that I was being selfish when I rejected your proposal of marriage. For my part, all I wanted for myself was a conventional marriage with someone who chose to spend his life with me instead of a guy forced into it because of circumstances. So I turned you down...’

  ‘And now?’ He tilted his head to one side, giving nothing away.

  ‘And now... Well, this is about more than what I want and what I expected from life. I can’t deny this baby the right to both parents and a stable background. So...’

  ‘So...? I book the church and buy the ring?’

  If there was one giveaway that this was a marriage of convenience and not something he truly wanted, it was wrapped up in that amused quip. Her heart constricted. Was she doing the right thing? Yes, she thought. She was. Because, if her heart tightened now, then the thought of what the alternative was made it tighten even more painfully.

  ‘Not quite,’ she told him quietly. ‘There’s no need to do either of those things just yet. I suggest...we continue living together. See how things progress. I’m getting stronger by the day. Let’s take it a step at a time. We can always reassess further down the road.’

  For a few moments there was silence, then he said with just the smallest of shrugs, ‘In that case, I think step number one should be meeting the parents...’

  It couldn’t be avoided. Matt knew that. Whatever the state of play between him and his parents, they had to be in the loop, and who knew? They might have held him at a distance—stiffly, silently and permanently disapproving, disappointed at the direction he had chosen for himself—but maybe, just maybe, what they hadn’t been able to show him, they might be able to show their grandchild.

  It felt like a terrifyingly huge step. That didn’t mean that he could, or even wanted to, shy away from it...

  Violet looked at her reflection in the mirror with troubled eyes. She’d foolishly thought that everything would somehow slot into place after that talk but now, three days later, she was still unsure as to what was going on.

  He hadn’t scooped her into his arms and swept her up to his bedroom, which she had kind of hoped he would. Instead, they had had a very sensible conversation about what happened next. Yes, the parents. She would have to meet them. Despite the fact that the whole world seemed to know about the baby, he still hadn’t broken the news to them, and when she’d shown surprise, he had simply averted his eyes and told her that it was the sort of conversation that had to be had face-to-face and he just hadn’t had time to make the trip.

  They had discussed the need to move out of London. His apartment was enormous, but it was essentially a bachelor pad. Glass, metal and grey furniture didn’t add up to a child-friendly environment.

  She had felt uncomfortably out of place in the sexy red dress, because
what she had imagined might turn into something a little seductive had actually ended up with the feel of a board meeting. She hadn’t really understood what was going on, and she wondered whether his interpretation of her living with him to see how things went, as opposed to marrying him, meant simply a continuation of what they already had. A perfectly civilised relationship in which she inhabited one of the spare rooms, except maybe the spare room would be in a house outside London instead of an apartment in the centre.

  She had slept on her own that night, as she had previously, and he had then vanished to New York for an urgent meeting he couldn’t afford to skip.

  Now, here they were. He would be back from the airport any minute. He’d called and told her that he was en route. That they would then leave immediately for the meet-the-parents visit.

  ‘Don’t you want to have a breather after a long-haul flight?’ she had asked dubiously, but no, he didn’t need a breather, he had told her. Only wimps needed breathers. His parents were expecting him and there was no opt-out clause there.

  So here she was, dressed in an outfit that brokered a deal between sensible and a little daring, because she had no real idea what his parents were like. The dress was black, long-sleeved and showed off her now visible bump, but in a way that was still prim and proper even though the dress was reasonably fitted.

  She was wearing thick, black tights and her hair was neatly tucked behind her ears. She felt like the PA she had once been.

  She was dressed and anxiously waiting when she heard the sound of the front door opening, and she couldn’t contain the surge of high-wire tension and excitement that raced through her.

  He was in a pair of faded jeans, a black sweater and a beaten leather jacket. And still he managed to look effortlessly cool and ridiculously elegant.

  Their eyes met and for a few seconds neither said anything, then Matt lowered his eyes and said, huskily, ‘You’re ready. You look great, Violet.’

  He hesitated.

  He wanted to move towards her and take her in his arms, but he remained hovering for a few seconds, wondering how it was that she had opened the door between them and yet, more than ever before in his life, he was afflicted with a sense of uncertainty that he didn’t quite know how to deal with. She exerted a spell over him. He could feel himself wanting to get closer, wanting to sink into her, and that weakness confused him but still it was there, persistent and ever-present.

  He knew that she would have been bewildered at his behaviour. No sooner had she told him that she wanted to try to work things out between them as a couple, as a united team for the sake of their baby, than he had disappeared across the Atlantic, leaving her on her own.

  He could barely formulate a coherent explanation to give her, but he knew that he would have to, and soon. Today.

  He would have to have that talk with her, tell her that he could never love her, that she should banish any such hopes from her head, if they were indeed there at all.

  This would be an arrangement, and a very successful one if she didn’t fall into the trap of expecting more than would ever be on offer. There could be no other conversation on the subject. He didn’t do love, he didn’t know how to...and if it sometimes felt as though she might be the one, might occupy a space he had never carved out in his heart, well, he would slam the door on those seditious thoughts.

  He hadn’t laid a finger on her, and it was driving him nuts, but the speech had to be delivered before any other roads were taken.

  He restlessly raked his fingers through his hair and thought that he had never, in his entire life, seen a sight as beautiful as the woman standing uncertainly in front of him, her hand resting lightly on her small bump.

  ‘Would you like something to eat? Drink?’ Violet asked hesitantly, and he smiled.

  ‘It’s six thirty. Something will be laid on,’ he commented drily. ‘It’s an hour to their house. The sooner we get there, the better.’

  ‘Tell me what I should be expecting,’ Violet prodded when they were in the car and powering out of London towards Surrey, leaving the cluttered streets behind.

  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his face. She wanted so much to do something simple and intimate—place her hand on his thigh, feel the ripple of muscle—but the weird distance he had created between them made her cautious.

  She so wanted to ask him outright if he had gone off her. Pregnancy, as it progressed, was not that appealing to lots of guys. Was he one of them? One of those men who were ever so vaguely repulsed by the sight of an expanding stomach?

  Maybe he had got it into his head that she was off limits because the doctor had advised rest.

  Violet had no idea how to broach the thorny issue, but surely they couldn’t work as a couple if they still carried on occupying separate bedrooms?

  They made amicable conversation as the fast car ate up the miles, speeding to a destination that turned out to be nothing at all like what she had expected.

  They had gone from the congested streets of London into open spaces where ribbons of houses were crammed along narrow roads, punctuated with traffic lights, pedestrians and cars. London on a smaller scale. But then that had been left behind, giving way to grander properties enclosed in land and guarded by gates. The car continued to bypass the grander houses until it turned left and they were confronted with the sort of impressive wrought-iron gates that advertised barking guard dogs, CCTV cameras and someone on patrol to keep intruders out.

  Violet’s mouth dropped open.

  ‘This is where your parents live?’

  ‘Your average mansion.’ Matt shrugged and used a beeper on his key ring to open the gates.

  ‘Wow. It’s not exactly a four-bedroomed semi on an estate, is it...?’ She glanced across at him and frowned, because his body language shrieked tension. His jaw was clenched and his fingers were tightly gripping the steering wheel.

  ‘When was the last time you saw your parents?’ she asked, her attention diverted by the tree-shaded drive that wound its way towards... Well, this was beyond a mansion. This was something along the lines of a National Trust estate. She gaped, not because she wasn’t used to big houses and over-the-top mansions, many of which she had experienced first-hand over the years with her dad, but because this was just so...unexpected. She tried hard to quench a sickening rush of acute nerves while he briefly informed her that he visited four times a year.

  ‘Exactly four times?’ Her mouth felt dry, which was the opposite of the palms of her hands, which were clammy. This felt like a really big deal, a turning point in a relationship that had been pleasantly meandering along, somehow waiting for something to happen.

  ‘Three birthdays and Christmas day.’

  ‘That’s very organised.’ She looked across at him. ‘I didn’t think you were that organised a person.’

  ‘When you meet my parents, you’ll discover why organisation is important. They’re not people who appreciate spontaneous drop-ins.’

  The rolling mansion drew closer. It was an impressive but grim edifice of greystone, fronted with a circular courtyard dominated by an amazing fountain. On either side of the house, sprawling, well-manicured lawns rolled off towards the dark shadows of trees.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ He turned to her wryly when he’d killed the engine. ‘It won’t be a protracted visit.’

  She was struck by a sudden thought. ‘Have you told them that I am going to be with you?’

  ‘Like I said, I preferred the face-to-face approach.’

  ‘They’re going to be shocked.’

  ‘Maybe they will.’

  ‘Don’t you care? You’ve put me in an awful position!’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about it.’ He looked at her for a few seconds, then eased himself out of the car, moving round to open the passenger door for her.

  ‘Of course I’m worried! Most parents love all the exci
tement of their child announcing that a baby’s on the way! They’re going to be so disappointed.’

  Matt laughed humourlessly. ‘Like I said, Violet, don’t worry about it. When it comes to disappointment, there are no surprises in store. I’ve been living with it all of my life.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  AFTERWARDS, VIOLET THOUGHT that she should have pieced together something of what she would find from that remark.

  A man who can indifferently reflect that parental disappointment has been his lot in life would not be a man to enjoy a warm relationship with his parents, and they could not have been less like the fun-loving, outgoing people she had always assumed they would be.

  Not that she had ever had any clues to go on because, although he was ridiculously open when it came to the women in his life and the chaotic revolving door of his relationships, he had always been tight-mouthed about his background.

  She certainly had not expected them to be made of money, but they were. The front door was opened by a butler—butlers still existed!—and they were shown into a sitting room the size of an airfield.

  To look at, Lord and Lady Falconer made an impressively good-looking couple. She was tall and elegant, with luxurious dark hair firmly pulled back. Traces of a Spanish heritage could be seen in her colouring, the slightly olive-toned skin and the dark eyes.

  He, likewise, was tall and distinguished, the absolute epitome of an English gentleman, from the way he carried himself to the suit and tie he wore.

  Violet had no idea how old they were. Certainly in their midsixties. But their mannerisms, their strained formality, made them seem much older.

  Conversation was polite. Violet cringed when his mother’s eyes flicked over her stomach but Matt introduced the topic without the slightest hint of embarrassment or apology. Both parents nodded their congratulations and asked precious few questions.