Pregnant with the Boss's Baby

by Sue MacKay

  Ding-dong. That blasted doorbell sure was getting a workout this week. Tamara chose to ignore it. Note to self: take batteries out when whoever was out there had gone.

  She could understand Conor’s exhaustion. If indeed that was all that had tipped him off his feet earlier—and the jury was still out on that. Fatigue dripped off her, leaving her body barely able to drag itself around the flat. There was no energy left in the tank to entertain a visitor.

  If Kelli had come bearing wine and food for a girls’ night of chatting then sorry, but she wasn’t coming in. Tamara huffed a sigh. Drinking was out these days with a baby under her belt. Not that she’d ever indulged much.

  Ding-dong.

  If it was Conor then tonight she wasn’t able to face him and the endless questions he’d have about where she was with planning the future for her and baby. Especially when he hadn’t been forthcoming about that episode in ED knocking him sideways. They both had to be upfront, not just her. Hell, Conor had spent the remainder of the shift barking at just about everyone who moved, while sending her strange looks that had explained absolutely nothing. And reminded her not to trust him too quickly.

  Ding-dong.

  ‘Go away.’

  Her phone pinged. Conor.

  I know you’re in there, Tamara.

  Ding-dong.

  The door hit the wall when she tugged it open. ‘Not tonight, Conor. You had your space, now I want mine.’

  The guy just walked on in, like he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. ‘Not happening.’

  Guess he had heard then. ‘Excuse me? You think you can walk all over me as you choose?’ Like Peter had. She growled, ‘Don’t walk away like that.’ The words were strong but her voice lacked real grit. Damn, this toughening up wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped.

  Conor spun back to face her, hands on hips like earlier in the day. ‘I am not walking all over you. What I am doing is making certain you understand I will be a part of this, that I will always support you. I will not be shoved away.’

  ‘I don’t remember shoving you anywhere.’ She had tried to push him onto the bed when he’d been having his moment in ED.

  ‘Just so you’re fully aware. After what you told me today about your ex I want you to know I stand at your side.’

  She’d take her time over that, assimilate more about him and how he reacted to situations and other people. ‘Right. Message received loud and clear. Now can you go?’

  ‘We have things to discuss, and I for one do not believe in putting them off.’

  ‘Oh, really?’

  Conor swallowed hard. ‘Yes, really. Delay only leads to worry and more problems.’ He stared at her, as though waiting for her to fold. ‘We already left talking about the baby last night.’

  He had a valid point. Unfortunately. But she wasn’t folding. Shoving her chin out, Tamara said, ‘Fair enough. But be warned, I’m shattered and will kick you out the moment I need to go to bed.’ Like about now. Oh, and make that go to bed alone. Two in her bed would require energy and trust and knowing where they were headed with baby. Which led right back to what Conor had said as he’d walked in.

  ‘I hear you. Not everything is going to go my way.’

  ‘You’re onto it.’ This new her, the stronger version, the less trusting type, seemed to be working. Amazing what pregnancy did to a girl. If she had to be a mother, then she’d give it her all to be the best.

  Closing the door, she headed for the lounge and the big recliner to curl up in. Comfortable was the only way to go.

  She didn’t make it that far. As she stepped past him Conor caught her hands gently, shook her softly. ‘Look at me, Tamara.’

  Then she’d be lost. He’d be able to demand anything.

  No, he wouldn’t. Less trusting until you know more about him, remember? Charm doesn’t cut it when dealing with major decisions.

  The gaze she met was serious, with tenderness hovering at the edges. Her mouth dried. Why hadn’t she met Conor before Peter? Her life might’ve been so different. Now all she could do was put her baby first. ‘Yes?’

  ‘How are you keeping? You hinted at morning sickness when I phoned early. Other physical discomforts?’

  Knock me down with a feather.

  He was doing nice to perfection. A ruse? She stared at him, delved into that gaze, searched for lies. Got only honesty. She didn’t think she was wrong. Not with Conor. Or was that more wishful thinking on her part? She’d go with it for now, see where it led. ‘Like I said, I don’t do breakfast any more. It has a habit of regurgitating.’

  ‘Hence those big morning teas you’ve started indulging in this week.’

  Tamara nodded. ‘I get a bit tired. Otherwise all’s good.’ She made to pull her hands free. His hold was compelling and she didn’t want to throw herself at him, needed space between them.

  Conor had other ideas. His hands tightened around hers. ‘You won’t have been to a midwife or your GP yet.’

  ‘Give me time. I’ve only known since Friday and the first hurdle was to let you know.’

  ‘Hurdle?’ Hurt crossed his eyes. ‘I’m an obstacle in all of this?’ Now her hands were free, dropped like hot coals as he stepped back from her.

  ‘Wrong choice of word.’ When he continued to stare at her, she hurried to explain, though not a hundred percent sure what her problem was. There were too many of them. Sigh. ‘I’m getting my head around the fact I’m pregnant. I still have no clue what you’re thinking about becoming a parent.’

  ‘Not good enough, Tamara. It was always going to be a shock for me, which I’m supposing it was for you, but you’re coming through it, as I will.’

  She moved past him, dropped into her chair. ‘I’m going to be completely honest, though you might not like what I say.’

  ‘Can it be any worse than what you’ve already hit me with?’ He took the chair opposite but didn’t relax back into it, sat instead with his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands.

  ‘Any worse? I get that an unplanned pregnancy is the last thing most of us want, but it’s not the end of the world,’ she snapped. ‘I want this baby now that I have it growing inside me.’

  It was true. It was true. Her hand spread across her stomach. She hadn’t allowed herself to believe that one day she’d be a parent, yet it was happening. Oh, my.

  ‘I’m going to do everything possible to look out for this baby.’

  ‘You’re days ahead of me, but I do not want to get rid of it, if that’s what you were implying.’

  So much for thinking they were starting to get along quite well. They didn’t understand each other at all. ‘I wasn’t.’ Silence crept into the room as she strung her thoughts into a cohesive statement. She had one shot at explaining herself. Finally, ‘I told you about my past and what Peter did. What I didn’t go into was the screw-up I became afterwards, and mostly still am. I used to trust everyone, now I trust no one. Hence all that dithering about my med school application.’ She locked her eyes on his. ‘Do I trust you to do the right thing by our child? Absolutely.’ She paused, swallowed hard.

  Damn you, Peter. You ruined everything for me. But, then, you wouldn’t give a toss, would you?

  ‘I hear a “but”...’

  Again silence reigned. Until she gathered up her courage and told him the truth. ‘I am afraid of what you might want to do regarding our child. Will you try to take him from me? Go back to Ireland with him? I’m going with calling the baby him for now as I hate saying it.’

  Conor’s face was tightening, his eyes darkening dangerously, but he refrained from uttering a word.

  So she continued, digging a bigger hole. ‘Do I trust you to do the right thing by me? I...’ Swallowing the bile building up in her mouth, she tried again. ‘Honestly? I want to. I want to believe in you, but I don’t
believe in my judgement.’ She sank back, huddled in on herself, becoming small and tense. No sign of her new, stronger backbone, but, then, she had managed to put the truth out there so she had to get points for that. Didn’t she?

  ‘Firstly, I will never take the baby away from you.’ Conor ground out the words through clenched teeth. ‘Just so you know,’ he added with as much anger as she’d ever seen in him.

  ‘Thank you.’ Did she trust him on that score? Yes, she thought she did. ‘I didn’t really think you would, but as I said I have trouble believing everything first time up.’

  Any relief was short-lived. ‘Whether I return to Ireland with my child—and you—is something I cannot say yet. But you should know I’ve always intended returning home at some stage. For good.’

  ‘Is that non-negotiable?’

  Conor nodded. ‘I thought it was. But that was before the baby announcement. Of course it’d now be up for discussion.’ He paused. ‘Could you ever consider moving to Ireland?’

  ‘Since I’ve been intent on hiding away these past two years I hadn’t thought about moving anywhere, but I’ll put Ireland on the list of changes to be contemplated.’ Why not up sticks and head to the northern hemisphere? As Kelli had pointed out, she had nothing to stay here for. Even better, no one in Ireland would know her history, would chase her with cameras or ask for comments on everything from fraud to investment funds. A move out of New Zealand could work in her favour. ‘You never fully explained what brought you Down Under.’

  ‘I wanted a change.’

  ‘From what?’

  ‘My family.’ What wasn’t he telling her?

  ‘Thought you adored them.’

  Conor leapt to his feet, stared around the lounge and sank back down. ‘I do. All of them. But it’s like happy families, all my sisters married and producing delightful little offspring. I was overwhelmed.’

  ‘You’re not telling me everything.’ See? Knew not to trust him completely.

  ‘Whether I return home or decide to stay in New Zealand or move to Australia, I won’t shirk my responsibilities, Tamara.’ A non-answer if ever she’d heard one.

  It didn’t bode well for trusting him completely. ‘Being a parent isn’t all about responsibilities. Where’s the enjoyment factor, the loving and caring without always being serious?’ Where had that come from? No idea, but now that she’d voiced it she knew it was true. Already she was sticking up for her child, like a good mum should.

  Hear that, Mum?

  Maybe Conor understood the truth because his mouth suddenly softened enough for a smile to appear. A self-deprecating one, but she’d take it as a good sign, a thawing of the chill filling the room and making her skin uncomfortable.

  Then he threw another curve ball, and she was back at the beginning. ‘What are you hoping for from me? Apart from being there for our...’ He choked. ‘Our child.’ Reality was sinking in deeper and deeper. It was there in his eyes, face, and the way his hands tightened around themselves.

  ‘I hadn’t got very far with that. Nor with what I’m going to do about work. Obviously university is a no go.’

  ‘You can always do that later.’

  Her eyes did a roll. ‘Sure. And spend all those hours studying or training you warned me about away from my child? Never.’

  ‘You’re not in this alone.’

  Good to know. ‘Expand on that if you can.’

  ‘I can’t give you specifics yet. Like you, it’s still too new to have all the answers, but know that if I’m going to be a dad then I want a full-time role in my child’s life.’ At last Conor leant back in his recliner, looking more at ease than he had since walking through her door. As though reality was finally falling into line. ‘Obviously that means helping you with whatever you decide to do.’

  Truly? She ran the words through her mind again and again, searching for the hidden agenda. Nothing waved at her. Either Conor was very good at hiding his true thoughts or... Or he meant what he’d said. ‘I’ve been quite happy living on my own. I adore my job and can adjust to not becoming a doctor. Having a child when I never thought it possible is a far better option anyway.’ An opportunity to fill some of those empty spaces within her. Some of those spaces could be for Conor too.

  No, they could not.

  ‘You said quite happy. Not good enough, Tamara. You deserve better, lots better.’ Then he slammed his hand through that wonderful long hair, shiny black locks weaving between his fingers.

  And her fingers stretched, like she needed to feel that hair on her skin. Instead she growled, ‘It isn’t the life I’d planned on, and while that’s not too bad, how I arrived at all this is.’

  Apart from that night with you.

  ‘You’re letting one man wreck your life. Not to mention tarring the rest of us with the same brush. Not every male is intent on robbing you, or lying to you. Especially not me.’

  She had to know. Now, before any further discussion led to decisions regarding their child’s future. ‘Care to explain what was going on with you in ED this afternoon?’ If he couldn’t be honest about that then what chance did they have of making this work?

  Conor swore. ‘Guess I walked into that one.’ He unfurled his long body from the chair in one rapid movement and then stopped to stare down at her as if he had no idea where to go from here.

  Tamara held his gaze, afraid that if she looked away it would be the end of everything...that he’d find a reason to walk out and send her money once a week via the internet. Honestly? She didn’t quite believe that. He was honourable and had said he’d be with her all the way, but history was a hard taskmaster, making her so damned cautious it hurt.

  Conor did a lap of the lounge before returning to his chair and locking fierce eyes on her. ‘I was having a panic attack.’

  She waited. Any questions might shut him down again.

  The sound of the building creaking in the cooler night air was loud in the silent room.

  And she waited.

  ‘I had a heart attack when I was twenty-two.’

  Tamara’s jaw dropped. ‘You what?’ So much for no more questions. They spilled out. ‘Twenty-two? But why? You’re lean and fit. That’s very young for a heart problem.’ Seriously? Of course seriously. This wasn’t something he’d joke about.

  ‘Family genes have a lot to do with these things.’

  Gulp. What? ‘You’ve got an inherited heart disease?’ And she’d thought the worst had been thrown at her already. Shoving her feet to the floor, she sat forward, her hands gripped together between her knees as she waited for his next grenade. And fought the flapping in her stomach. This could not be as bad as it sounded. Huh? Hadn’t she learned anything? Life threw grenades at her all the time. What was one more?

  ‘I don’t know,’ Conor told her.

  ‘But you will be all right? Won’t you?’ Please. For baby’s sake he had to stay around. For her sake. Gulp. Truly? Was she prepared to accept Conor’s place in her life as her child’s father if it meant he’d never go away? Probably the second biggest mistake of her life but, yes, he had to stay. And not only for the baby. She wanted him there because—because she liked him far too much. Then the truth slammed her.

  What if her baby had a heart problem?

  CHAPTER SIX

  CONOR WATCHED TAMARA CLOSELY, but couldn’t fault her reaction to his announcement. Nothing but shock and concern in those brown eyes. But she hadn’t heard the worst. ‘My dad died when I was four.’

  Those knees pressed her hands tighter but he’d already seen the tremors roll through her. ‘But you’re onto it, right? You’re not going to die early.’

  Conor studied her face, the face that more and more he looked out for first thing in the morning as he logged on in the department. There was something about Tamara he couldn’t go past that kept
him returning to talk to her and working to raise one of her heart-tugging smiles. Smiles that didn’t happen often enough. Hell, she was the only woman in a long time he’d gone to bed with and wanted to repeat the experience. Hence his application for that position in Sydney. He was meant to be a solitary man.

  ‘Yeah, I’m onto it, and I don’t intend clocking out early. But there’s always that “what if?” factor hovering in the back of my head. Some days, like today when my body was strained from running the marathon and working so hard yesterday, my mind gets in a mess and I freak out, thinking every muscle twinge is a cardiac arrest in progress.’

  Had the real issue sunk in yet? Or was Tamara deliberately ignoring it? Somehow he doubted it. She liked honesty and being up front. No doubt a result of what had happened to her in the past.

  ‘What condition have you got?’ she asked in a high-pitched squeak.

  Conor still wanted to avoid talking about what had kept him single most of his adult life, but he owed Tamara because of their baby. ‘Nothing that the cardiologists have been able to put a label on. That’s why I can’t be sure it is hereditary. But Dad and I both having heart attacks—I’m not prepared to gamble with that information.’

  ‘That must be hard. If you know what you’ve got it’d be easier to face it down. Or so I’d have thought.’

  Got it in one. He smiled; a smile he hoped went some way to lightening the anguish beginning to creep into her eyes as she considered their child might also have a cardiology problem. ‘I’ve learned to live with it by keeping fit, my cholesterol low and my BP normal. Mostly I get on with life without too much interference from the back of my brain, but occasionally it goes haywire. The specialists say my chances of another malfunction are less than most other people’s out there because I’ve got everything under control.’

  ‘Heck, Conor, how do you manage to get up and move, run those marathons even, with that hanging over you?’