The Pregnancy Affair

by Anne Mather

‘You had to say that, didn’t you?’

  Joel arched mocking brows. ‘Well, you asked for it.’

  Olivia shook her head. ‘Must you bring sexual innuendo into everything? Is that what comes of mixing with amorous adolescents like that girl I saw at your office?’

  Joel stifled a laugh. ‘Oh, Liv, have you any idea how prudish you sound?’ He turned, running backward so he could see her face. ‘For your information, Cheryl Brooks is twenty-four. She’s already a graduate and working towards her second degree.’

  ‘Bully for her.’ Olivia resented the ease with which he was keeping up with her. ‘In any case, she’s too young for you.’

  Joel gasped. ‘Did I say she wasn’t?’

  ‘No, but as you were talking about taking women to bed—’

  ‘I wasn’t talking about any such thing.’ Joel was indignant. ‘You brought it up, Liv. Not me.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  Olivia could feel her legs beginning to tire. She’d passed the pain barrier some minutes ago, but now it was becoming a distinct effort to keep putting one foot in front of the other. However, she wasn’t going to let Joel get the better of her in this as well as everything else, and, making an especial effort, she quickened her pace until she was actually pulling away from him.

  The pain was excruciating, her knees burning as if they were on fire. But there was such satisfaction in besting him that she could actually numb her mind to the agony in her legs.

  It didn’t last. As soon as he realised what she was doing, Joel quickened his own pace and within seconds he’d caught up with her.

  ‘Crazy woman!’ he exclaimed, one look at her contorted face enough to tell him that she was in danger of doing some permanent damage to herself. He put a restraining hand on her arm, feeling the trembling muscles, the sweat that was streaming out of her. ‘For heaven’s sake, Liv, you’re going to kill yourself!’

  Olivia sagged. She couldn’t help it. Even the warning touch of his hand was too much, and, stumbling, she fell to her knees on the sand.

  ‘Liv, are you all right?’

  Instantly abandoning any thought of continuing his own run, Joel came down on his haunches beside her, one hand on the back of her neck, the other gripping her upper arm, supporting her when she would have sunk onto the sand. Despite his own exertions his hands were cool and firm, and, unable to help herself, Olivia slumped against him.

  ‘For pity’s sake!’

  Joel swore to himself, looking about him as if assistance was going to materialise by magic. But there was no one else on the beach. And they were some distance from where they’d left their cars. Part of the beauty of Redes Bay was its absence of human habitation. Apart from the pub, that was, but that was some distance away, too.

  ‘I’ll—I’ll be all right in a minute.’

  Olivia spoke faintly, still struggling to regulate her breathing. Her lungs burned and it was incredibly difficult to take the gulping breaths she knew she needed to recover. She was beginning to feel cold, too, the breeze off the North Sea picking up as night drew in.

  She shivered and Joel felt it. Dammit, she was going to develop hypothermia if he didn’t get her warm soon. There was no way she was going to be able to walk back to her car in her present condition. He was going to have to leave her here and go and get help on his own.

  He hesitated a moment, aware that his tank-top was rank with his own sweat, but then he pulled it over his head and wrapped it about her shoulders like a shawl. ‘Stay there,’ he said, and when she tried to protest he held the top tighter about her. ‘I won’t be long,’ he promised grimly. ‘Please, Liv. Just stay here until I get back.’

  ‘But—you’ll get cold,’ she protested, and he managed an ironic grin.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he said, getting to his feet in a swift, lithe movement. ‘Baby, just looking at you burns me up. Now, be good. I won’t be long.’

  Olivia had managed to get to her feet and was taking several tentative steps across the sand when she saw the Lexus barrelling towards her. For the first time in her life, she appreciated the advantages of having a four-wheel-drive vehicle. Its huge tyres ate up the beach as if it was the smoothest highway, only the spray of sand behind showing its passing.

  Joel braked beside her and sprang out. He’d evidently found a T-shirt to cover his bare chest that Olivia had admired so briefly and in his hands he carried a sheepskin jacket that he quickly exchanged for the ratty tank-top. Feeling the comfort of the jacket envelop her, Olivia began to feel warmth radiating inside her, the spasmodic shivers that had racked her fading swiftly with its heat.

  ‘Come on.’

  Not giving her a chance to object, Joel swung her up in his arms and carried her to the Lexus. Swinging open the passenger-side door, he lifted her into the seat, pausing long enough to secure the safely belt before circling the bonnet and getting in beside her.

  ‘Better?’ he asked, looking sideways at her, and she nodded her head.

  ‘Much.’ She moistened her lips. ‘Thanks.’

  Joel didn’t make any response. He just held her gaze for a few moments longer and then, thrusting the Lexus into drive, he did a U-turn and drove back to where the vehicle had carved a path across the dunes.

  However, when they were safely on the coast road again, he didn’t take her back to where she’d left her car. Instead, he turned up the cliff road, negotiating the precipitous bends with admirable speed.

  Olivia looked at him then, and, feeling her eyes on him, he said, ‘You’re not fit to drive yourself home right now. Your body’s had a shock. You need to chill out before you get back behind the wheel of a car.’

  ‘Perhaps so.’ Olivia blew out a breath. ‘But I am feeling much better now.’

  ‘That’s good.’ Joel was approving. ‘But you don’t realise how exhausted you are. What you need is a long, hot shower and a cool glass of wine. That’s my recommendation anyway.’

  Olivia’s lips tightened. ‘Yeah, right,’ she said drily, wondering what Linda would say if she used all the hot water. ‘I’ll—think about it.’

  ‘We’ll do better than that,’ said Joel blandly, and, blinking, Olivia realised something that she should have noticed minutes ago. She was so used to driving to Millford these days that she hadn’t questioned the route they were taking. But now comprehension dawned.

  ‘This isn’t the way to Bridgeford!’ she exclaimed, her tongue adhering to the roof of her mouth. ‘Joel, I can’t go to your house.’

  ‘Why not?’ Joel was complacent. ‘You spend a couple of hours there most days. You must be quite familiar with it by this time.’

  Olivia shook her head. ‘That’s different.’

  ‘I know. Sean’s there. And he provides a chaperon. But that doesn’t mean we need one, does it?’

  Doesn’t it? For a moment, Olivia thought she’d said the words out loud, but Joel hadn’t responded so she knew she’d only been thinking them. But, dear God, going to Joel’s house late in the evening, using his shower! Wasn’t that just asking for trouble?

  Joel parked the car at his gate and without waiting for his assistance Olivia thrust open her door. But her legs felt like jelly when she climbed down from the seat and she couldn’t decide whether it was exhaustion or anticipation.

  ‘Here, let me help you,’ he said, but Olivia lifted a warning hand to keep him at arm’s length.

  ‘I can manage,’ she said, with more confidence than she was feeling. But she could just imagine the Reverend Webster’s reaction if he saw Joel carrying her into his house.

  Joel opened the door and, unwillingly, Olivia stumbled up the path and into the house. It was all familiar, yet strangely unreal. For the first time since that afternoon in his office, they were alone together.

  Joel closed the door with his foot and looked at her. Then, when Olivia evaded his gaze, he dropped the tank-top he’d been carrying onto the floor and walked across to the stairs. ‘Can you make it?’ he asked, indicating the climb, and Olivia took
a deep breath.

  ‘If you think that what we’re doing is wise,’ she said at last, trudging across the floor. ‘What if Louise finds out? Aren’t you worried that she might use it against you?’

  Joel rested one hand on the newel post at the foot of the staircase. ‘The way I heard it, you apparently put her in her place. And why should she care what I do? It’s not as if Sean’s a witness to my depravity.’ He regarded her impatiently. ‘Come on, Liv. You’re wasting time and I’m getting cold.’

  ‘Oh—sorry.’ Olivia made a helpless gesture, indicating that he should go first. Although she’d been upstairs before and had a pretty good idea where Joel’s bedroom was, she had no intention of letting him know that. ‘Go ahead.’

  Despite her determination not to show any weakness, it was an effort going up the stairs. By the time she reached the landing, she was panting again and she had to acknowledge how out of condition she was. But to her relief Joel chose not to call her on it, and, walking across the gallery, he opened the door into one of the spare rooms.

  ‘You can use the bathroom in here,’ he said, his voice cool and objective. ‘Take as long as you like. You’ll find plenty of towels on the rack.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Olivia moved past him into the bedroom, admiring the gold satin counterpane on the colonial-style bed. There were gold and green patterned curtains at the windows and a carved armoire where one could store clothes. The carpet underfoot was a cream shag pile, its softness evident even through her shoes.

  She turned to say how much she liked his style of decoration, but Joel was gone. He’d closed the door silently and left her, and she beat back a sudden surge of disappointment. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? she asked herself: their relationship to remain on civil terms. She felt tonight had proved that friendship was out of the question. She was much too aware of the pitfalls she faced when she tried to be sociable with him.

  The bathroom was delightful. A claw-footed tub flanked a glass-walled shower cubicle, with twin basins matching the low-level lavatory. A rack of towels occupied the wall beside the shower and Olivia didn’t hesitate before stripping off her tank-top and shorts and stepping into the cubicle.

  Unlike at the farm, it was a power shower, and, feeling the hot spray massaging her shoulders, pummelling her hips, shedding its heat all over her body, she felt her exhaustion easing into a healthy tiredness. It was so good to feel thoroughly warm again, inside as well as out, and, finding a tube of shampoo on a ribbed shelf inside the cubicle, she decided to wash her hair as well.

  She left the shower with real regret. It had been so wonderful to wash herself without the ever-present prospect of being disturbed hanging over her head. And, although it was satisfying to feel clean again, she was sorry it was over.

  She dried herself rapidly. There was no lock on the bathroom door and, though she doubted that Joel would intrude on her here, she was intensely aware of her nakedness.

  That was why, when there was a knock at the bathroom door, there was a rather ungainly scramble to get the towel wrapped securely about her before she spoke.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘YES?’ she called, her voice sounding absurdly weak and thready. What could he possibly want?

  ‘I’ve left a robe on the bed,’ Joel responded equably. ‘If you’d like to put it on and bring your running clothes downstairs, I’ll put them in the washer with mine.’

  ‘Oh.’ Olivia swallowed, thinking hard. But, although she knew that accepting his offer would inevitably delay her departure, the idea of wearing dirty clothes when she felt so deliciously clean swung it for her. ‘OK,’ she agreed. ‘I’ll do that. Thanks again.’

  ‘No problem.’

  She waited until she heard the outer door close behind him before venturing a peek into the adjoining room. Sure enough, a white towelling bathrobe was lying on the bed, along with a pair of chunky white athletic socks she could wear instead of her trainers.

  Giving her hair one last rub with the towel, Olivia combed it with her fingers before sliding her arms into the sleeves of the bathrobe. It was much too big. Joel’s, she guessed, though she chose not to dwell on that. Fastening the belt tightly about her waist, she pulled on the socks, also too big, and collected her dirty clothes.

  Even if she hadn’t known the way to the kitchen, the delicious smell of food would have guided her. Someone, Joel obviously, was preparing his evening meal, and the mingled scents of frying meat and sautéed vegetables drifted up the stairs.

  Her feet making no sound in the chunky socks, Olivia padded downstairs and across the hall. Joel was standing at the Aga, stir-frying the food in a rather professional-looking wok. Like her, he’d evidently had a shower, because there were droplets of water sparkling on his dark hair and trickling down into his collar at the back.

  Her mouth drying at the sight of him in faded jeans, unbuttoned at the waist, and a short-sleeved shirt that was open down his chest, Olivia knew she had to say something before he caught her watching him. ‘I didn’t know you could cook,’ she said, recalling her own early disasters in that direction. She crossed the tiled floor and peered over his shoulder. ‘It certainly smells good.’

  Joel started. He’d not been aware of her approach, and his eyes darkened at the picture she made in his robe and socks. Judging by the bundle of clothes in her arms, he was fairly sure she had nothing on under the terry-towelling, and the sudden urge to find out was hardly a surprise in his present mood.

  ‘It’s just steak and vegetables,’ he said, his voice harsher than it should have been. ‘Are you hungry?’

  Olivia took a backward step away from him. She was realising that this was hardly keeping her distance, as she’d planned to do when she was upstairs. ‘Oh—don’t worry about me,’ she mumbled awkwardly. ‘I—er—I’ll just wait until the clothes are dry and then I’ll go.’ She indicated the bundle in her arms. ‘Shall I put these in the washer? It’s in the utility room, isn’t it?’

  ‘Don’t you know?’

  Joel growled his answer, but he wasn’t feeling particularly charitable right now. Earlier on, going into his spare bedroom, knowing she was naked in the next room, had left him with a hard-on he could do without. But, dammit, his body ached with the need to bury itself in her, the memory of how it used to be between them never totally fading away.

  ‘I suppose I do,’ she replied a little stiffly now, moving past him to the outer door. ‘I assume you’ve put yours in already.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Jake gave the stir-fry a vicious shake, unable to prevent his eyes from following her slim form. She’d been right, he thought irritably. This had not been the wisest move he’d ever made.

  He heard her close the washer and then the unmistakable sound of running water as she turned the machine on. She came back into the kitchen, carefully averting her eyes as she shut the utility-room door, and his temper erupted. This was crazy, he thought angrily. They were acting as if they were strangers. Intimate strangers, perhaps, but with an atmosphere between them you could cut with a knife.

  Taking the pan off the heat, he spun round to face her. ‘What is it with you?’ he asked savagely. ‘I practically save you from pneumonia. I bring you here, to my house, give you free use of my bathroom, offer to wash your clothes and give you half my supper, and what do you do? You say, thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather sit on my own in the other room than share a meal with you!’

  ‘That’s not true!’ But Olivia’s face burned with embarrassment even so. ‘I am grateful, truly I am.’

  ‘Well, you have a bloody funny way of showing it.’ He raked his nails across his chest where a triangle of dark hair grew between his pectoral muscles and arrowed down to his navel and beyond. ‘What did I ever do to make you hate me, Liv?’

  Olivia’s eyes widened. ‘I don’t hate you, Joel.’

  ‘What, then?’ he demanded, something darker than frustration in his eyes. ‘Come on, Liv, tell me what it is you want from me. Be
cause God knows, I’m running out of ideas.’

  Olivia shook her head. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Sure you do.’ He was relentless. ‘We’ve tried hostile and neutral. And yes, there have been times when I’ve stepped over the line. But tonight, I was really trying to be civil. To show you another side to my nature, one you don’t seem to believe is there.’

  Olivia drew a breath. ‘Well, I’m sorry—’

  ‘Yeah, you should be.’

  ‘But you weren’t exactly jolly when I came downstairs.’

  ‘You startled me.’

  ‘Did I?’ Olivia didn’t know where this was going, but she refused to let him walk all over her. ‘Or were you in a black mood because you regretted bringing me here? Come on, Joel. Be honest. You made it plain enough before that you didn’t want me in your house.’

  ‘Before.’ Joel latched on to the word. ‘That’s the pivotal difference. As you’ve probably been in the house as much as I have the past couple of weeks, it would be freaking crazy to try and bar you from the place now.’

  ‘Ah, but you weren’t there when I was, and vice versa,’ retorted Olivia at once. ‘This isn’t the same.’

  Joel watched her balefully. She had no idea how he was feeling, he thought, or she wouldn’t be standing there, trading put-downs with him. Without make-up of any kind, she was even more desirable than she’d been earlier, her cheeks flushed a becoming shade of pink, her green eyes sparkling with what she thought was a victory.

  ‘You could be right,’ he said at last, and although his words were innocent enough, she seemed to sense that he meant something different by it.

  ‘You—you’re agreeing with me?’ she asked warily and Joel spread his hands.

  ‘That being here alone with you is different from being with Sean? Hey, you’ll get no argument from me.’

  Olivia gnawed on her lower lip. ‘Well—good.’

  ‘No, this is much more interesting,’ he said, lowering his arms and shoving his thumbs into his dipping waistband. ‘Much more interesting, believe me.’