Having His Babies (Harlequin Presents)

by Lindsay Armstrong

  She gazed at him, unable to speak.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking—how well it turned out so why didn’t I say something sooner? But I still couldn’t be sure—why it was working.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I saw it happen for the first time on the last night of our honeymoon. I thought, There she goes again, slipping away from me, only it isn’t work now, it’s her babies. I felt excluded, I felt that they were very real for you and the rest of it might just be a case of you lying in the bed you’d made and making the best of it that you could.’

  Clare swallowed then burst into tears.

  ‘Sweetheart, don’t.’ He put his arms around her and kissed her hair. ‘Because if it’s like a vast ocean for you, if I ever took your breath away, I couldn’t have loved you more when you were huge and tired but always so brave, and I’ll never stop loving you.’

  ‘I only slipped away because I was so unsure of you—oh, we’ve been at such cross purposes,’ she wept.

  ‘I know,’ he said broodingly. ‘And it’s all my fault but—’ he kissed her tears ‘—if it hasn’t come too late, Clare, you’ve restored my faith, you’re my joy, my peace, my partner. And I had planned to tell you all this tonight whatever the consequences. Because I knew I couldn’t let you go through this without knowing how I felt even if it didn’t mean all that much to you.’

  He paused and grimaced. ‘Two little people had other ideas, however. Not to mention fires, boating accidents—I can’t imagine what else could have happened in the last couple of days!’

  ‘Lachlan,’ she said urgently, ‘I love you. And it means the world to me. If only you knew how often I’ve wanted to say it.’

  Some time later a nurse pushing a wheelchair disturbed them.

  ‘Now, that is nice,’ she said cheerily as they drew apart. ‘Always like to see the mums and dads having a bit of a cuddle, but would you like to come down to the nursery? Your babies are awake and could also do with a bit of a cuddle.’

  They were not only awake and out of their cribs, they were crying. ‘Here,’ the nurse said as she handed one bundle to Clare and one to Lachlan. ‘See what you can do.’

  The pink bundle Lachlan held immediately stopped crying.

  ‘Don’t you dare be better at this than I am!’ Clare said to him, but she was laughing. ‘Oh, look, he’s stopped, too,’ she added as the blue bundle in her arms yawned mightily then composed himself for sleep.

  And they sat side by side comparing their babies.

  ‘They’re almost identical!’ Lachlan said. ‘How are we going to tell them apart other than the obvious?’

  ‘Well, she’s smaller for a start and I think her hair—they’ve got your hair!’ Clare said wonderingly, running her fingers over the gingery down. ‘But hers is a little fairer. And they can’t be identical because they’re fraternal twins, otherwise they’d be the same sex.’

  ‘I bow to your greater knowledge. But I think they both look a lot like you.’

  ‘How can you tell?’ Clare asked, fascinated. ‘If anything, I think they look like you.’

  ‘It’s always hard to know if someone looks like one self,’ he said gravely.

  ‘Believe it or not,’ the nurse said, ‘if you had six different people in here they’d have six different ideas on who they look like.’

  ‘We believe you,’ Clare and Lachlan chorused, and they all laughed.

  ‘OK, names,’ he said then.

  ‘Are we agreed on Tom for this young man?’ Clare kissed her son’s forehead.

  ‘We are—how about Thomas Paul? Paul was my father’s name.’

  ‘Oh, that’s one of Sean’s favourites, so yes! What was your mother’s name?’

  ‘Anna.’

  ‘How about Anna-Jane?’

  ‘Done,’ he replied promptly, and said to the baby in his arms, ‘Now, young Anna-Jane Hewitt, this is your father speaking. I do think you could at least open your eyes!’

  But Anna-Jane only copied her brother. She yawned, waved an incredibly small fist, and fell asleep again.

  ‘Bed for you now, too, Mrs Hewitt,’ the nurse said. ‘You’ve had a very big day. We’ll bring them in to you first thing in the morning!’ she added as Clare looked reluctant.

  ‘Will you sleep?’ Lachlan said to her when she was tucked in.

  ‘I wish I had you to cuddle up to.’

  He watched her carefully for a moment and wondered how to help her relax and not tumble down from the clouds of euphoria too drastically.

  Then he pulled a chair up beside the bed, put his feet up and began rhythmically to stroke her hair. ‘Do you remember Orpheus?’

  ‘Mmm… It was lovely.’

  ‘So were you. Like a flower in bloom, a golden creature with eyes like the sea and midnight hair. And sweet, even when you were wondering what you’d let yourself in for.’

  ‘You mean your shirts?’ she said drowsily.

  ‘Not only my shirts but what a big bad wolf I might turn out to be.’

  She chuckled sleepily. ‘I didn’t go that far.’

  He smiled faintly. ‘On our first night you were definitely concerned but—did I prove you wrong?’

  She moved but it was like a luxurious settling of her weary and sore body. ‘If you thought I was—nice, I thought you were—not sweet,’ she murmured. ‘Like a splendid tiger, lithe and strong, so strong but nice, too.’

  ‘Well, it’s my turn to be strong again,’ he said gently. ‘And it’s your turn to go to sleep because I’ll be here all night right beside you and ready for our babies in the morning.’

  ‘You don’t—’

  ‘I want to, my darling—you know, I was right about one thing.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I suspected you were a born mother!’

  She laughed softly. ‘Against all expectations—I’ve surprised myself…’

  He said no more and a few minutes later her breathing told him she was asleep. But it was an hour or more before he closed his eyes as he kept stroking her hair and willing her to get the rest she so richly deserved. At the same time he was thinking his own thoughts, remembering her as a cool, clever solicitor and contrasting that image with all she’d become. A warm, wonderful woman, now a mother but, above all, his own.

  When she woke at daylight, he was asleep in the chair beside her.

  She looked her fill. His chin was resting on his shoulder, his hands were clasped in his lap. There were blue shadows on his jaw and his tawny hair was falling across his forehead. He still had his feet propped up on the bed and she looked down the length of him then back at his unconscious face.

  He looked younger and curiously defenceless and she felt a flood of tenderness for him that she’d never known before, because he’d gone through the darkness of a bad marriage and fought the demons it had left him with to come through—for her.

  Then his eyes opened and he lifted his head and looked around dazedly until his gaze fell on her. And an expression of sheer relief flooded his smoky grey eyes. ‘Clare? Are you OK?’

  ‘I’m fine and I love you quite desperately,’ she said softly.

  ‘I love you the same way. I—’

  But a nurse bustled in with two very upset bundles which she put into the cot. ‘OK, folks,’ she said. ‘We’re going to freshen you up, Mrs Hewitt, and check you out, then the fun really begins! Our first feed. I tell you what, they may be small but they’re like little tigers this morning. Now, I know your milk hasn’t come in yet but…’

  As she went on to explain about the mysteries of breast-feeding, Clare and Lachlan looked at each other wryly, then smiled and held hands.

  ISBN : 978-1-4592-5209-7

  HAVING HIS BABIES

  First North American Publication 1999.

  Copyright © 1999 by Lindsay Armstrong.

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone beanng the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure Invention.

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