by Miranda Lee
She was still puzzling over this conundrum when she spotted an empty glass lying on the rug next to the sofa, right where John might put his foot when he finally woke up and stood up. Scarlet went round, picked the glass up and took a sniff. She didn’t much care for brandy but she knew the smell well, having used brandy often when making Christmas cakes. The fact that John had left the bed and sat out here, drinking, till he fell asleep was another puzzle. Why hadn’t he stayed with her?
Scarlet was standing there, trying to find an answer when she realised John was stirring.
For a split second, she contemplated bolting for the bedroom but, as she’d told him last night, when she was nervous about something, she liked to get it over and done with as soon as possible.
She waited and watched whilst John stretched and yawned first before one lid flickered upwards, then another.
‘Good morning, Scarlet,’ he said as he swung his long legs over the side of the sofa and sat up. ‘I presume you slept well?’
‘Very,’ she admitted, determined to be honest. Determined to make him answer some questions as well. ‘Why did you come out here to sleep?’
‘For that reason,’ he replied somewhat drily. ‘To sleep. I was, shall we say, struggling to concentrate.’
‘Oh,’ she said, and blushed.
‘No need to be embarrassed. It’s not your fault that you’re a beautiful woman. I knew, if I stayed there, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you. So I came out here and left you to have a good night’s rest.’
‘That was… very considerate of you,’ she said, not sure now if she felt embarrassed or pleased. There was something incredibly seductive about a man admitting he couldn’t keep his hands off you.
‘My pleasure, Scarlet. But don’t worry,’ he added with a wicked little smile. ‘You can make it up to me today.’
She gripped the glass tightly whilst trying to imagine what he had in mind. ‘What time is it, do you know?’
‘Time you and I had some breakfast, after which you can join me in the shower.’
‘But…’
‘No buts, Scarlet. We had a deal, remember?’
Scarlet straightened her shoulders. ‘I don’t recall agreeing to sex morning, noon and night.’
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘Are you saying you don’t want to join me in the shower?’
‘I’m saying you are not to presume that I will agree to anything and everything. You are to ask me first. And respect my wishes. Otherwise, this deal is off and I’ll catch the first flight home.’
‘Have you forgotten why you came up here in the first place?’ he reminded her ruthlessly.
‘I haven’t forgotten,’ she said with a defiant tilt of her chin. ‘But that doesn’t change my stance. Take it or leave it.’
Damn it but she was calling his bluff! Not that it had been a bluff, exactly. He’d thought after last night she’d be putty in his hands this morning. He supposed he should have known better. This was Scarlet he was dealing with here.
‘Very well,’ he conceded. ‘I would love you to join me in the shower after breakfast, Scarlet. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine,’ he added through clenched teeth.
Scarlet wasn’t sure what to say now, the ease of his capitulation having surprised her. She actually wanted to join him in the shower. It was his arrogant manner which had got her back up. Now that he was asking politely, it seemed rather hypocritical to say no. But she felt she had to. To give in at this early stage would feel somehow like she’d lost the battle-as though she-or, rather, her body, she hastily corrected-belonged to him. After last night, she wanted to make sure she stayed in control, and that meant setting boundaries.
‘I’d rather shower by myself,’ she said, trying not to sound too prim and proper. ‘I’m not used to sharing showers. Or making love during the day time, for that matter. If you don’t mind, could we confine our sexual activity to the evenings?’
‘I’d be lying if I said I didn’t mind. But you’re calling the shots for now, so sex will be confined to the evenings. Until you change your mind, of course,’ he added with a wicked glitter in his bedroom-blue eyes. ‘That is a woman’s privilege, isn’t it-to change her mind?’ And so saying, he stood up and stretched once more, grimacing as he did so. ‘Thank God I won’t have to sleep out here tonight. It’s hell on my back.’
‘You could have slept in one of the guest rooms,’ she pointed out somewhat tartly.
‘Now, why didn’t I think of that? Right, do you want breakfast before your shower or after? Note, I’m asking very politely and not telling you.’
Scarlet pulled a face at him. ‘There’s no need to be that polite. I also don’t expect you to wait on me hand and foot. You showed me where everything in the kitchen was last night. I can easily get myself some cereal and juice, which is all I usually have for breakfast.’
‘Splendid. I’ll leave you to it, then. I’m off to have my shower. A very long, very cold one.’
Regret consumed Scarlet as she watched him stalk off. But she refused to back down. She needed to keep focused on what she’d come here to do. As John had inadvertently reminded her, this wasn’t a pleasure trip, no matter how much pleasure she might have felt last night. And, actually, Scarlet remembered reading that too much sex was as bad for conception as too little. Couples who were having trouble falling pregnant were encouraged to chart the woman’s cycle and reserve sex for the days surrounding ovulation. She would have to mention that to John. But not yet, perhaps. She suspected he would not take kindly to her telling him he would have to curtail his pleasure for a couple of days early next week so that his sperm count would be at maximum level.
But tell him, she would. Eventually.
No matter what, she had to maintain some control over John. And herself.
Pursing her lips determinedly, Scarlet marched out to the kitchen where she swiftly set about getting herself a bowl of muesli and a glass of orange juice, all the while making plans for the day in her head. As soon as she had breakfast, she would shower and dress-in the main bathroom-after which she would ask John to take her for a walk around the CBD of Darwin, followed by a light lunch somewhere, followed by a long drive or a boat trip on the harbour, or whatever would fill in the afternoon.
She would make sure it was late afternoon by the time they came back to the apartment, leaving only enough time for them to both freshen up before going out for dinner, which should occupy a further few hours. Although usually a fast eater, she would be very slow this evening, making sure that it would be at least ten or eleven by the time they got back to the apartment, with their energy levels low after a long day of walking and sightseeing. She doubted John would be capable of making love to her more than once. Twice, at best. He did seem to have amazing stamina in that regard. But what the heck? She was sure she would survive two more ground-shaking orgasms without totally losing her willpower or, worse still, imagining that she must be in love with John simply because she was enjoying sex with him.
Her top lip curled derisively as she dismissed that insane possibility without a second thought. Only hopelessly naive romantics believed in such hogwash, and it had been some time since Scarlet had been either naive or a romantic. She supposed in one way it was rather sad to have one’s illusions about love and sex dashed to the ground so emphatically. But then real life was sad, wasn’t it? Real life killed off one’s father when you were only nine. And real life kept you unloved and childless till you were at such an age that your dreams were almost beyond your reach.
But only almost…
Scarlet wasn’t sure why, but she suddenly felt supremely confident that when she caught her flight home on Sunday week she would be pregnant with John’s child. Okay, so having a baby was only half of her dreams, but it was the better half. The safer and more secure half. She would settle for that half, any day of the week.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she tried to imagine how it would feel when her pregnancy was conf
irmed. She would be over the moon. And so would her mother.
‘Oh my God, Mum!’ she exclaimed, having forgotten all about the promise she had made to her mother the previous evening to send her some photos of the apartment today.
So much to do, she thought as she started to shovel the muesli into her mouth. And so little time!
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SCARLET ate breakfast, had a shower and got dressed in record time, choosing white capri pants and a salmon-pink top which had a not-too-low sweetheart neckline and capped sleeves. The same speed was applied to her hair, which she only half blow-dried before scooping it all up into a high pony-tail, anchored by a white elastic band. Make-up was none, other than some tinted sunscreen plus her favourite coral lipstick. She didn’t spray on any perfume or don any jewellery, having resolved not to dress or act provocatively. After adding flat white sandals, she extracted her phone from her bag and set about taking photos of the main bathroom and the floral quilted guest bedroom, careful not to make either look too large or too luxurious.
Once satisfied with her snaps, Scarlet made her way out to the kitchen, half-expecting John to be in there, having breakfast. But he wasn’t. She frowned. Surely he’d be showered, shaved and dressed by now? Clearly not, however, the living room proving as deserted as the kitchen. His bedroom door remained shut, she noted, so it was likely he was still in there, but no way was she going to knock, or go in search of him. Instead, she returned to the kitchen, where she took a couple of photos of just one section before moving back to the living room and shooting only a fraction of that area, getting in just one of the sofas and rugs.
It wasn’t till she went out onto the balcony with the intention of snapping the spectacular harbour view that she found John sitting out there with some toast and coffee. No doubt he’d showered but he hadn’t shaved, looking like a beach bum with the stubble growing on his chin and nothing on but a pair of bright board-shorts.
A very sexy beach bum.
‘So here you are!’ she exclaimed, doing her best not to stare at his beautifully bare chest, resentment rising with the thought that he was being deliberately provocative. After all, it wasn’t that warm out there on the balcony. It was, in fact, quite fresh, with a stiff sea breeze blowing.
‘Aren’t you cold?’ she asked somewhat tartly.
‘I never feel the cold,’ he said, his eyes lifting to run over what she was wearing. ‘We inveterate campers are a tough breed. Taking photos for your mum, are you?’
‘I promised her last night.’
‘Yes, I heard you. You and your mum are obviously very close. Is that why you’re still living with her?’
‘I didn’t plan to but then I also didn’t plan to deliberately become a single parent,’ she shot back. ‘Once I made that decision, it made sense to stay on at home.’
‘But you’re not going to become a single parent. Not now. You’ll have me to help out.’
‘Come now, John, even if things work out and I do fall pregnant with your child, I’ll still need my mother’s support. You’re not going to be around most of the time-it isn’t part of our deal. You’ll be off working in some far-flung corner of the world most of the time and only come home to visit at Christmas every year. More importantly, I like living with my mother. We’re best friends.’
‘I see. Fair enough. Get on with your photos then,’ he bit out, and fell broodingly silent.
Scarlet held her tongue with difficulty whilst she took a lot of snaps. Normally, she would have made admiring comments about the beauty of the view. But she didn’t trust herself to speak right at that moment. Why she let John get under her skin so much, Scarlet wasn’t sure. But he did. He always had. She had a feeling John felt exactly the same about her. It was a shame, really, given the situation. If only they could become genuine friends, it would make life so much easier.
It’s up to you then, Scarlet, the voice of common sense advised her. Don’t expect John to make the move to cease hostilities between you. Men don’t do things like that. It’s the woman who usually makes the peace when a relationship becomes rocky.
Not that they had a relationship. Up till now, all they had together was a shared childhood and one night of sex. Great sex, admittedly, but still just sex. Shared parenthood, however, would definitely change all that.
The enormity of what they were planning to do suddenly struck Scarlet like a physical blow, doubts shooting to the surface of her mind as she tried to work through what having John as the father of her baby really meant. It could become quite complicated, she realised agitatedly. And messy. Going to that clinic and having an anonymous sperm donor had been a simple plan. Lonely, maybe, but simple. No one else was directly involved. With artificial insemination, she was master of her own destiny and the controller of her child’s upbringing. Could she trust John not to want more involvement once his son or daughter became a reality? A few of her girlfriends had told her how their husbands had not been so keen when they had become pregnant early in their marriages, but each had become besotted once the child had arrived. Would John have an epiphany once he became a father? It was possible, she supposed.
Scarlet stopped taking endless photographs and whirled to face him.
‘I think I might have made a big mistake by accepting your offer,’ she blurted out, still shaken by her thoughts.
An emotion close to panic sent John leaping to his feet. ‘What?’
‘You heard me.’
‘I heard you, but I don’t understand what’s behind such a sudden turnaround. You contacted me, Scarlet, not the other way around.’
Now she looked decidedly shame-faced.
‘I know. I guess I was desperate at the time.’
Desperate. John could not believe how much it hurt, hearing her say that. But then he remembered the way she’d been with him last night. That hadn’t been desperation. That had been desire, pure and simple. Not so pure, either. His flesh stirred at the memory of her touching him, of her begging him to just do it to her.
He gritted his teeth as he willed his body to behave itself. This wasn’t the right time to use sex to sway her mind. At the same time, if Scarlet thought for one moment he was going to let her leave, then she was dead wrong.
‘Why do you think you made a big mistake accepting my offer?’ he asked with forced calm as he came forward and cupped his hands over her shoulders.
She immediately clasped her phone with her two hands and held it up against her breasts, as though she was afraid of his chest touching hers.
Good, he thought.
‘I just don’t think it’s wise for you to be the father of my baby, that’s all,’ she said with her usual stubbornness. ‘It could become complicated.’
‘In what way?’
‘You might change your mind about your level of involvement. You might… Oh, I don’t know what you might do, exactly. I just want my son or daughter to have a secure, happy life. I would hate there to be any conflict.’
‘Well there certainly won’t be any conflict if you don’t have a child at all! Which could be the case if you cut and run now.’
‘The clinic said I just had to be patient.’
‘The clinic has vested financial interests in saying that.’
‘That’s a horribly cynical thing to say!’
‘I’m a horrible cynic.’
‘You just don’t understand,’ she said with a ragged sob.
The sounded affected him. He didn’t want to make her cry. He just wanted to soothe her worries and make her stay with him. The thought of her leaving still filled him with alarm.
‘But I do understand,’ he told her gently. ‘I do. You’re afraid of my interfering in your role as a parent even though I promised not to. You’ve lost your trust in men, which includes me.’
‘But how can I trust you when I don’t really know you any more?’
‘Ah. Back to that again.’
‘I think it’s only fair that you answer at least some of my question
s if you’re going to be the father of my baby.’
That was fair, John accepted grudgingly.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Fire away.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘You’ll tell the truth?’
‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ he said. ‘But only if you promise to stop this nonsense about leaving.’
Scarlet thought about that for a second, deciding that she wasn’t going to let John steamroll her into anything. It had been foolish of her to come up here without thinking everything through. Uncharacteristically foolish. But of course she had been desperate at the time.
‘I reserve the right to still leave if I find out you’re not suitable father material,’ she told him firmly.
‘I thought you found that out last night,’ he returned with a wicked little smile.
She blushed. Again.
Scarlet itched to stamp her foot in fury at herself. Blushing was hardly the way to convince John she had the upper hand.
‘Must you remind me of that?’ she threw at him.
‘No need to be embarrassed. Now, how about you send those photos to your mum whilst I go put some clothes on? Then we’ll get out of here.’
‘But you were going to answer some questions.’
‘You can walk and talk at the same time, can’t you? Women are always claiming they can multi-task.’
Scarlet wanted to hit him. But not as much as she wanted to kiss him. Oh Lord, she was one mixed-up girl at the moment!
‘Must you tease me all the time?’ she snapped.
He smiled. ‘Absolutely. I find you very sexy when you’re angry.’
‘Well it’s no wonder you’ve wanted to screw me silly all your life, then,’ she retorted, blue eyes flashing. ‘Because I’ve been bloody angry at you since the first day we met!’
He tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t help it. Neither could she. Her lips just twitched at first, then her chin started to quiver. And then they were both laughing, loud and hard.
Their laughter broke some of the sexual tension which had been steadily growing in Scarlet since she’d stepped out onto the balcony and spotted John sitting there with no shirt on. But even as she laughed she knew it would be wise to get out of this apartment as soon as possible. The physical chemistry between them was dangerously strong and extremely seductive, which was perverse, since they didn’t see eye to eye about much. She was a person who valued family and community above all else. He was a loner who spurned involvement with others, even his family. She worked to live. He lived to work. Or he used to; she wasn’t sure what his work ethics were now that he was rich.
