An Heir Made in the Marriage Bed

by Anne Mather

  How kind, she thought, supporting herself with both hands in the small of her back as she followed Henry across the veranda and into the house. Whatever her doubts, Matt had evidently thought of everything.

  ‘Will I put your bags in the bedroom, Mrs Novak?’ Henry was asking, after staggering up the steps with the laptop tucked precariously under his arm.

  ‘Yes, please,’ said Joanna, quickly rescuing the small computer. Laptops weren’t cheap, and she’d hate for him to drop it. ‘You lead the way.’

  They entered the cottage via a pleasant parlour that apparently ran from the front to the back of the house. Joanna hadn’t yet got her bearings, but she thought there might be a view of the ocean from the back windows. But it was getting too dark to see tonight.

  A door to one side opened into a neat kitchen. There was a comprehensive supply of appliances and a small table that was presently laid for one. Then out into a narrow hall with three more doors leading to the bedrooms and the bathroom.

  The bedroom Henry showed her into was surprisingly big considering the size of the rest of the cottage, with a huge colonial bed occupying a central position. The bathroom adjoining it was reassuringly modern, with a walk-in shower and a free-standing tub.

  ‘This is great,’ she said, kicking off her wedges to feel the marble floor cool beneath her bare feet. She couldn’t wait to have a quick shower. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she supposed she should try a little of the salad. Then, if Matt didn’t turn up, she’d fall straight into that huge bed.

  ‘I’ll leave you now, Mrs Novak,’ said Henry, hovering in the bedroom doorway. ‘Mr Matt asked me to tell him when you’d arrived.’

  ‘Did he now?’ Joanna wondered if that meant Matt would be arriving later tonight.

  But Henry disabused her of that notion. Glancing about him, he continued, ‘He also said he’d come see you in the morning. But if there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to call.’

  Joanna hesitated. ‘Do you have the villa’s number?’ Although she was fairly sure she wouldn’t be using it tonight.

  ‘The phone has a direct line to Mr Matt’s office,’ explained Henry. ‘Just punch in number one and that will put you through. Oh, and your cook and housekeeper will be here tomorrow morning. I’m sure they’ll be happy to help you, too, in any way they can.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Joanna smiled. ‘Please tell Matt I do appreciate this. And thank you for meeting me, Henry.’

  ‘My pleasure, Mrs Novak,’ he assured her smilingly, and Joanna wondered if she should tell him that she didn’t call herself Mrs Novak these days.

  But that could wait until tomorrow, too. Right now, she was too tired to care.

  * * *

  Matt was sitting on the veranda, enjoying a tumbler of whisky over ice, when Henry drove up to the villa. The older man parked the vehicle behind the house and then came up onto the veranda to report to his employer.

  ‘All present and correct,’ he said, nodding his curly grey head approvingly. ‘Can I do anything else for you, sir?’

  ‘I don’t think so, Henry.’ Then, as the man would have turned away, ‘Does she look okay? How was her journey?’

  ‘Mrs Novak looks fine,’ said Henry enthusiastically. ‘A little pale—and tired, I think—but I guess it’s been a long day.’

  ‘I guess.’ Matt was thoughtful. ‘Did she like the cottage?’

  ‘Oh, yes, sir.’ Henry grinned. ‘I think she loved the place at first sight. She asked me to tell you so. And when Callie and Rowena take over, I think she’ll be very happy there.’

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ said Matt, wishing he could be as certain. He hadn’t forgotten that if it hadn’t been for some manipulation on his part, Joanna would be in Cornwall by now.

  ‘I didn’t help her unpack her luggage.’ Henry sounded doubtful. ‘But I expect she’d prefer to do that herself anyway.

  ‘Just a couple of cases and a laptop, that’s all.’

  ‘A laptop?’ Matt was intrigued.

  ‘Yes, she told me it had belonged to her father,’ Henry agreed thoughtfully. ‘She says she plans to do some work while she’s here.’

  ‘Work?’ Like Henry, Matt was surprised to hear this.

  ‘Yes, sir. Seems like the lady operates a website for some gallery she helps to run in London,’ said Henry, nodding. ‘Will that be all, Mr Matt?’

  He was clearly waiting to go and get his supper, and Matt nodded. ‘Sure thing,’ he said, raising his glass, though he wasn’t altogether happy about Joanna’s plans to keep working for the gallery while she was here. But, at least she was here, where he could keep an eye on her.

  For a while, after the man had gone, Matt remained where he was, watching the sunset. Teresa had cooked a steak for his supper, but he’d hardly eaten a thing. He hadn’t relaxed, even when his pilot, Jacob, had told him they were landing. Not until Henry had arrived to say Joanna was installed at the villa had his tension subsided.

  An hour later, he left the comfort of the bamboo lounger and strolled restlessly to the edge of the veranda. Hooking his hip over the wooden rail, he gazed broodingly towards the cottage. He couldn’t see anything. It was too dark. But the temptation to go and check on his visitor was strong.

  He’d had serious thoughts about the future since he’d returned to the Bahamas. One thing he knew for certain was that he wanted to play an active part in his child’s life. However Joanna felt, he wouldn’t compromise. Angus might have robbed him of his wife, but he’d be damned if he’d rob him of his son as well.

  Foolishly perhaps, Matt couldn’t forget that night in Miami. Joanna had given herself to him so ardently. He had to wonder, if his father hadn’t been taken ill and he’d been able to follow her to London the next day, would the outcome have been the same? Or was that just wishful thinking?

  He scowled and, finishing the last of his Scotch, he got up from the rail and dropped his glass onto the table. He was getting maudlin, he thought. Discovering he was going to be a father had done that to him. Nothing else.

  After all, when he’d left her apartment after following her to England, he’d had no intention of seeing her again. And, despite his comparative isolation here, he’d been managing to make a satisfactory life for himself.

  He wrote most mornings, and, when he got writer’s block, he had the businesses in town to check on. He’d actually been thinking he might get married again one day, although it was not a priority. But his parents wanted grandchildren and he’d had to acknowledge that as his father’s only son, he had some responsibilities in that regard.

  Discovering Joanna was pregnant had thrown any other plans out of the window. And learning he was going to have a son had been the icing on the cake. During the long nights, as he’d waited for her to come to the island, he’d found himself wondering if he could persuade her to stay.

  But hearing about her plans to keep working, he doubted she had anything similar in mind.

  He scowled into the darkness, wondering a little anxiously if she’d remembered to lock her doors. People didn’t always lock their doors on Cable Cay, and it was unlikely anyone would disturb her, but Matt couldn’t put it out of his mind.

  The sudden piercing scream that rent the peace of the evening set Matt’s heart pounding. The sound had definitely come from the cottage, and, after what he’d been thinking, his blood went cold.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, he leapt down the steps and started along the path to the villa, all manner of horrific scenarios racing through his mind. If anyone had invaded the cottage, he’d kill them. And if they’d touched her...

  But he refused to continue that thought.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  MATT COVERED THE quarter-mile in minutes. Before he reached the cottage, he heard someone running after him and guessed that Henry, too, h
ad heard the scream.

  ‘That was Mrs Novak, wasn’t it?’ the man panted as he caught up with Matt. ‘You don’t think there’s an intruder, do you?’ Henry persisted, and Matt was glad the older man couldn’t see his face.

  ‘I hope not,’ he retorted grimly, already planning what he would do if anyone had touched Joanna.

  They reached the cottage and Matt bounded up the steps to bang on the door. But there was no need to announce his arrival. The door was unlocked, and, remembering his earlier fears on Joanna’s behalf, he hoped it was she who hadn’t turned the key.

  ‘Joanna!’ he yelled, bursting into the parlour, and heard what he thought was a responding cry coming from the other side of the house. It was from one of the bedrooms, he thought, his nerves as taut as violin strings. What was going on?

  Henry was right behind him when he reached the bedroom where the sound had come from. The door was shut, which might or might not be a good thing. But then he heard Joanna call, ‘Matt! Matt, is that you?’ and realised that whatever had happened, she was still okay.

  However, when he opened the door, the sight that met his eyes was not at all reassuring. Joanna was standing on the bed, and she was obviously terrified. Her arms were wrapped protectively around her middle, and there was a look of real terror in her eyes.

  She was wearing only a man-sized tee shirt that was so thin as to be almost transparent. It barely covered her thighs, due in no small part to the size of her stomach that swelled beneath the cloth. Long legs, bare and disturbingly familiar, caused his stomach to tighten in response.

  But Matt definitely didn’t want to think about that right now.

  When she saw him, Joanna’s relief was evident. ‘Oh, thank God, you’ve come,’ she exclaimed tremulously, forgetting for a moment that she hadn’t seen him since her arrival.

  Then she saw Henry hovering behind him, and half turned away in embarrassment. ‘Um—there’s a rat; under the bed.’ A sob broke from her throat. ‘Can you get rid of it? Please! It—it’s huge!’

  ‘A rat?’ Matt let go of the door and came towards her, dark and disturbing in a black tee and matching shorts. Immediately the room was filled with his raw masculinity, and Joanna had to grope for a breath of cool night air. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Joanna managed shakily, and wondered if he knew she was struggling against tears. ‘It was there when I came out of the bathroom. Just—just staring at me with evil little eyes.’

  Matt reserved judgement on the evil little eyes but it was obvious something had frightened her badly.

  ‘So where is it now?’ asked Henry, coming into the room behind him. The older man seemed unconcerned about Joanna’s appearance, and Matt gave him a half-impatient look.

  ‘She says it’s under the bed,’ he said, going down on one knee to scan the area in question. And then he allowed a rueful smile when he saw what was huddling beneath the wooden frame.

  ‘What is it? What is it?’ Joanna was shifting from foot to foot, and Matt was half afraid she was going to lose her balance and fall. ‘Can you see it?’ Then, observing his expression, ‘What’s so funny?’

  Matt shook his head, sobering, and, getting to his feet again, he turned to Henry. ‘It’s a hutia,’ he told the other man. ‘I’d say the poor thing’s more frightened than she is.’

  ‘A hutia?’ Joanna had never heard of such a thing. ‘Is—is that a rat?’

  ‘It’s a rodent, certainly,’ agreed Matt, as Henry bent to view the culprit. ‘But it’s not a rat. They’re usually quite harmless. People actually keep them as pets. God knows how it got in here.’ He turned to Henry again. ‘Who was the last person in the cottage?’

  ‘I suppose that would be me,’ said Henry unhappily. ‘I came and checked the place out before I went to the airport. I might have left the doors open for a while. It was so hot, and I wanted the breeze to blow through.’

  Joanna tried to calm her erratic heartbeat. What a perfect way to start her stay on the island. She’d never screamed like that before. But then, she’d never been so frightened either. Matt probably thought she was a complete idiot.

  ‘Can—can you get rid of it?’ she asked, trying to behave more calmly now that it seemed that there was no danger.

  But she was embarrassed that the older man was there.

  Matt looked thoughtful. ‘Well, we can,’ he said, in answer to her question. ‘But the whole place will have to be fumigated before you can stay here.’ He turned once more to Henry. ‘Why don’t you go and get the SUV and we’ll bring Mrs Novak back to the villa?’

  Joanna’s lips parted. ‘Your villa?’

  ‘You can’t stay here tonight,’ he added, aware that his panic on her behalf had given way to a kind of resentment. What chance did he have of keeping his cool when even her scream could tear his nerves to shreds?

  He scowled. It was hard to be gentle with her when seeing her like this had aroused all the carnal instincts he’d been trying so hard to deny. For pity’s sake, he’d spent the latter half of the evening trying to drown the knowledge that Joanna was here and he still wanted her. Had he ever stopped wanting her? He didn’t want to know.

  Meanwhile, Joanna, hearing the censure in his voice, assumed his attitude towards her hadn’t changed. Bringing her here had been a way to prove his dominance, and after the cottage was habitable again, she’d try and make sure she didn’t need his help again.

  With Henry on his way back to the villa, Joanna hesitated only a moment longer and then dropped down onto her knees. But she was aware her heart was still racing and the baby had been unusually quiet for the past half-hour. Shocked into immobility, she thought uneasily. Honestly, whatever that creature was, it had scared both of them half to death.

  ‘Would you like me to carry you into the bathroom,’ asked Matt, noticing her uncertainty, but to his relief Joanna shook her head.

  ‘Um—I don’t think that will be necessary,’ she said a little breathlessly. But she needed to put some clothes on before Henry returned. ‘Will—will that—what did you call it? Hutia? —will it try to escape?’

  Matt regarded her critically for a moment, and then gave in. ‘It’s probably more frightened of you than you are of it,’ he said, his tone softening. ‘It’s not gonna leap out at you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.’

  Joanna nodded and wriggled until her legs were hanging over the side of the bed. Her tee shirt had hiked up to the tops of her thighs, but that couldn’t be helped. It was a bit late now to be feeling embarrassed, and she was wearing panties, after all.

  The cotton trousers she’d travelled in were draped over one of the chairs nearest the door, her slip-ons on the floor beside them. It was only a little distance, she told herself firmly. If the creature hadn’t been disturbed by Matt and Henry kneeling down to peer at it, why should it bother her?

  Matt was standing watching her. He had his arms folded, legs apart, his narrow-fitting shorts moulding his powerful thighs. Why did he have to look so damn sexy? she wondered, sliding her bare feet to the floor. It was becoming harder and harder to remember that this was the man who had ruined the last months of her father’s life.

  She straightened up, and as she did so something brushed by her ankle. She managed to stifle the scream that rose in her throat, but she couldn’t prevent herself from rushing headlong towards the door.

  She certainly hadn’t intended to touch Matt. She just wanted to get away from the bed. But when he put out his hand to stop her reckless flight, she didn’t think before wrapping her arms about his waist and cuddling close to him.

  Apart from anything else, her panic had robbed her of any resistance. ‘What—what was that?’ she choked, her face pressed to the muscled hardness of his chest. Her hands spread against his back, accidentally connecting with the wedge of flesh exposed when he’d bent down and his tee ha
d separated from his shorts. Struggling to ignore the smooth dampness of his skin beneath her fingers, she said hurriedly, ‘I felt something touch my ankle. Was it the—the hutia?’

  ‘Probably,’ said Matt stiffly, aware that it was only the swell of her pregnancy that was keeping her from feeling his instant arousal. Dammit, he had to stay away from her or God knew what he might be tempted to do. With his tone flattening, he responded, ‘It’s gone now, anyway. You can let me go.’

  But Joanna didn’t want to let him go. With her lungs filled with the sensual heat of his body, it was difficult to think coherently about anything. She fought valiantly for breath before saying, ‘Where—where do you think it went?’

  ‘I have no idea.’ Matt sighed, his hands closing on her trembling shoulders. The fabric of the shirt was so thin that he could feel the dampness of her skin through the cloth, but he forced himself to ignore the intimacy of the moment. ‘I imagine it’s found its way out of here.’

  She swallowed. ‘You don’t think it could have gone into the bathroom?’

  ‘I don’t think it was heading in that direction, no.’ Matt stepped back. Then, belatedly, he seemed to remember her condition, his eyes lowering to her stomach, bringing another wave of heat over her body. ‘You’re okay, aren’t you? You didn’t hurt yourself?’ He paused. ‘Or the baby?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  She ran an exploring hand over her bump and felt the reassuring thrust of a foot against her palm. She smiled, relieved that the baby was active again, and saw the way Matt’s expression had changed to one of concern.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘I’m sure.’ She hesitated. ‘Would you like to feel him?’

  Matt’s pulse quickened in spite of himself. ‘I—well, sure,’ he said half unwillingly, and she took his hand and laid it against the rounded curve of her stomach.

  Almost immediately, he felt a powerful little kick against his hand, and he pulled away with a grunt of protest. ‘Strong, isn’t he?’ Joanna asked, smiling again. ‘How would you like to feel that in the early hours of the morning?’