by Miranda Lee
She could see the indecision in his, the doubts. He was an intuitive man, and was undoubtedly sensing that there was something here he was missing. ‘I’m sorry too, Sam. But I can’t get over the feeling that you’ve rushed into this offer of yours. Look, I...I’ll think it over some more tonight,’ he agreed reluctantly. ‘We’ll talk again in the morning.’
Dismay coursed through her. Guy was a black and white person, a man of instant decisions. This ‘thinking it over’ was his way of letting her down gently. ‘All right,’ she said flatly.
Guy turned and walked briskly back into the inner office, shutting the door behind him. Samantha stared at the closed door. Slowly, ever so slowly, the tears began to trickle down her face.
CHAPTER FOUR
SAMANTHA was a bundle of nerves the following morning. She was up with the dawn, having slept poorly, then spent a whole hour putting on outfit after outfit, trying to find one that made her look sexy. Of course, nothing did to her eye. She found the exercise so futile and annoying that in the end she put on the first thing that came to hand. A black Chanel-style suit in fine wool, with a black and white striped blouse that tied at the neck. Her hair went up as usual, her make-up nothing to write home about. Perfume she never wore to work.
Breakfast and housework out of the way, Samantha set off, walking briskly to the bus-stop and arriving at the office at eight-thirty—extra-early. A warm autumn sun was shining brightly through the windows as she drew back the curtains, which she took for an omen of doom. How could one expect anything else to go right that day if the weather was gorgeous? When was life that generous?
‘You’re getting cynical in your old age,’ she muttered aloud and went about making herself some strong coffee.
By nine-thirty she was seated at her desk, glancing through the morning paper, her eyes darting to the wall clock every few seconds, then to the door as she awaited Guy’s arrival. He wouldn’t be late because Rolf Wetherington, his accountant, had an appointment for ten. Samantha wasn’t sure how Guy did it, but he never had to go to other people’s offices. They came to him.
He was one of those men who commanded not only respect but personal attention, which he lapped up as his due, resulting in his business associates being even more deferential. In one way this irritated Samantha. Everyone needed bringing down a peg or two occasionally to remind one they were only human. Somehow she couldn’t see anyone doing this to Guy. He would remain inviolate in his selfish, egocentric highly planned world.
That was one of the reasons she believed he wouldn’t accept her proposal. It was one thing to dream about becoming a father; quite another to put it into action. By now he would have realised that he could hardly jettison the mother of his child from his life as easily as he could one of his girlfriends who had begun to bore him. Being involved with a woman on a level he couldn’t totally control would not appeal to Guy at all.
The truth was the surrogate mother option would have suited him admirably—if he’d been able to trust it.
One part of Samantha was semi-relieved that he was going to reject her proposition. Much as she wanted Guy to make love to her, much as she would adore to have his child, she had the awful feeling that fantasies come to life often proved disappointing. One always expected too much. Maybe Guy would turn out to be a dreadful father, she pointed out to herself.
Don’t be ridiculous, came the scornful reply. Look at him with his own father. They have a great relationship. It was the one thing in Guy’s life that was steady and strong and secure. Guy would love his child with the same devotion.
Well, maybe he’s hopeless in bed, she tried again, desperately looking for reasons not to feel such desolation at his probable rejection.
And maybe the world is flat, was her dry retort.
Come on, girl, you’ve seen the way his female companions can’t keep their hands off him, can’t leave him alone for a minute. They’re like leeches! And what about all those presents they give him, not to mention purring contented looks? Those females are satisfied, darling Samantha. Well and truly.
Not like you, honey-bunch. You don’t know the meaning of the word. Fact is, you don’t know much about sex at all on a first-hand basis!
Samantha sighed. Other than that fiasco with poor Norman—which was merely a blur in her memory now—her sexual experience was minimal.
Not that she was ignorant about sex. Or in any way physically shy. Once Aunt Vonnie had boosted her looks and her confidence, she’d come to Sydney at age nineteen, a normal healthy teenage girl, quite keen to experience love and romance!
But not as quickly as city boys had wanted her to. They had expected a girl to let them go all the way on the very first date. That just wasn’t how she’d been brought up! She hadn’t minded kissing and necking, but she had always known she would need to be in love before she could allow total intimacy. It hadn’t taken her long to learn that most members of the male sex didn’t need to be remotely in love to indulge in anything and everything! They weren’t too pleased either when she told them politely, but firmly, that one-night stands and casual sex weren’t her scene.
In the end, she had only dated spasmodically and carefully, and waited for her heart to tell her this was it! In the meantime she had changed her job from a boring receptionist-secretary position to Guy’s assistant, and for several months had been so caught up in her new job that she’d given up dating altogether.
By the time she had realised she was in love with her boss her circle of male friends had dwindled away to nix. One couldn’t expect them to wait around forever.
She had been content for a while to hope and dream, but then those seemingly futile hopes and dreams had begun to get the better of her. One summer, two years after her dreaded discovery, and driven to despair by Guy’s latest conquest—a model named Tiffany, of all things!—she had gone on a holiday cruise and quite deliberately set out to have an affair in a desperate attempt to forget Guy.
She’d had no trouble picking up a man—a handsome one too—yet when it had come down to the nitty-gritty she hadn’t been able to go through with it. As soon as her hopeful lover had started undressing, all she could think of was that she wanted it to be Guy. In the end she’d burst into tears and run out of the cabin. The next day she hadn’t been surprised when her offended admirer had found another girl to spend the rest of the cruise with. Samantha had returned to Sydney and work, more emotionally depressed than ever.
Nevertheless, the experience had brought home to her that she just wasn’t made for casual sex. She needed love to make it right for her. Real, deep love. And then she was sure it would be fantastic.
So she had lived on, without men, without sex, going to work and watching her hopes and dreams being crushed time after time.
Today would be the final obliteration...
The phone started ringing.
Samantha glared at it. She didn’t want to be talking to someone when Guy came in. She wanted her rejection to be quick. Like an amputation.
Irritated, she snatched up the receiver. ‘Haywood Promotions.’
‘Hi, Samantha, it’s Lisa here.’
She groaned silently. Lisa lived in the same block of units as Samantha—in the flat above, to be precise—and she was the most dreadful chatterbox. In her late twenties and still single, she worked in a public service job in town and would often ring Samantha when bored. But nine thirty-five was a little early to be bored, even for Lisa, so it seemed likely she wanted to ask a favour. Samantha’s problem would be getting her off the line afterwards. ‘Hi, what can I do for you?’
‘How did you know I wanted you to do something for me?’ Lisa said in a surprised voice.
Samantha rolled her eyes. ‘I didn’t, Lisa. It was just a guess. Am I right?’
‘Well, yes, you are, actually...’
Samantha’s whole body stiffened as the door opened and Guy walked in, looking resplendent in the lightest grey suit and dazzling white shirt. His thick brown hair was slick
ed back and darkly damp as though he had not long stepped from a shower, which was possible. His home was only a few minutes from the city.
Clear blue eyes caught hers, but he gave nothing away. Seeing her on the phone, he merely nodded and walked briskly on, past her desk and into the kitchenette.
‘...So I was hoping you would do that for me. Is that OK?’
Samantha realised with a jolt that she had missed the whole middle of what Lisa had said. ‘Er—there was static on the line just now, Lisa. Would you repeat that last bit?’
‘I said would you mind taking my washing in from the line after you get home tonight? I’m going to the pub for drinks with some friends straight after work. I tried to catch you this morning but you must have left early.’
‘Yes, I did.’
She tried to concentrate on Lisa but one ear was on Guy as he moved around in the small room behind her. What was he thinking? When was he going to tell her? Would he make polite excuses or turn her down flat?
‘Oh, by the way,’ Lisa raved on, ‘you haven’t seen Tom lately, have you? I’m worried about him.’
Tom was a huge and homeless ginger cat whom the block of units they both lived in had adopted. He was an old rascal of an animal who wormed his way into everyone’s affections with his manipulative personality. When he wanted something—like food and a bed for the night—he would be love on four legs, rubbing and purring and smooching. The next morning he was just as likely to give you the cold shoulder and walk off with his nose in the air.
‘That devil,’ Samantha laughed, pushing thoughts of Guy to one side as she smiled to herself over Tom’s antics. ‘I never worry about him. He’ll be back when he needs a free meal and a warm body next to him in bed for the night. And, fool that I am, I’ll probably let him in and give him what he wants.’
‘Yeah...me too. We’re all mugs where that cat is concerned.’
‘That’s true,’ Samantha sighed. ‘The funny thing is I know he’s only conning me. But, once I’ve let him in and fed him, I just can’t seem to resist him. He saunters into my bedroom as if he owns it, and before I know it I’m lifting up the covers and he crawls in with me as if that was where he’d always belonged. Then next morning, after breakfast, he can’t wait to leave. Still, that’s Tom for you. Take him or leave him, that’s his motto.’
‘Mmm. Sounds like some men I know,’ Lisa said drily.
Samantha slowly became aware of eyes boring into her back. She swung round in her chair to find Guy standing in the doorway to the kitchenette, staring at her as though he’d just found out she was an industrial spy.
‘Er—Lisa,’ she whispered hurriedly, ‘I have to go. I think the boss wants me.’
‘I wish he wanted me,’ Lisa drawled. ‘That man is a hunk. I saw him on TV the other night at the music video awards, and what that man does to a dinner suit is divine!’
‘Bye, Lisa.’
‘Don’t forget the clothes!’ she shouted as Samantha hung up.
‘Is something wrong?’ Samantha said, one hand lifting to self-consciously pat her hair.
His stare became a frustrated glare, his hands coming up to prop on his hips. ‘If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears I wouldn’t have believed it!’
She blinked. ‘Believed what?’
He threw up his hands in exasperation. ‘Hell, Sam, I thought you were one of the most level-headed females I had ever met. Goddammit, do you know how risky it is to go to bed with a bloke like that Tom you were just talking about on the phone? He sounds like a real bum!’
‘Tom?’ she repeated in a puzzled tone a split-second before the penny dropped into place.
‘Yes, Tom. Surely you can remember him?’ Guy’s tone was blisteringly sarcastic. ‘The one who apparently cons his way into your bed with regular monotony. Tom, the charming devil. Tom, the sodding bastard would be a better description!’
Samantha tried not to laugh as she realised how her conversation with Lisa must have seemed when overheard one-sided. But it was no use. The giggles burst forth.
Guy looked positively appalled. ‘This is crazy. Not only do I discover you’re leading a dangerously promiscuous private life, but you’ve got a warped sense of humour as well! And I thought I knew you!’
‘Tom,’ she choked out before he could make any further hysterical accusation, ‘is a cat.’
His mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. ‘A...cat?’
‘Yes, a cat.’ She grinned at him. ‘A vagrant tom who pops into my flat occasionally.’
Guy’s mouth took a while to crack a smile, but when it did it did so graciously and apologetically. ‘I feel a fool,’ he admitted.
‘Anyone could have been mistaken,’ she excused him, smothering her laughter with difficulty. It hadn’t escaped her notice either that once again she had ruffled his feathers. It rather pleased her. Rejected she might be. Taken for granted? Never again!
‘No,’ he refuted drily. ‘I should have known better. After all, you’ve been with me long enough for me to know you’re not that sort of girl at all.’
Every vestige of humour died inside Samantha. He made her sound hopelessly dull and boring. ‘And what sort of girl am I?’ she quizzed haughtily.
He seemed startled by the question. Or was it her sharply indignant tone?
‘Go on, tell me truthfully,’ she persisted, piqued to the point of anger. ‘I’d like to know. It might explain why you’ve obviously decided not to take me up on my offer yesterday.’ As if that needed saying.
His glance carried surprise before becoming deeply thoughtful. ‘The truth, you say?’ he mused aloud.
‘Oh, definitely the truth.’ Her tone was tart. In for a penny, in for a pound, Aunt Vonnie always used to say.
Actually Aunt Vonnie would have liked Guy, she thought desolately as she gazed at his broodingly handsome face. He fulfilled all her aunt’s requirements in a man. Good-looking, well-built, ambitious, basically honest, but with enough male wickedness to be interesting. The only trouble was he had never developed the ability to fall in love. That, Samantha realised, was a fatal flaw, if ever there was one.
‘You’re very hard to define, Sam,’ he finally said. ‘Actually, I’ve been thinking about you all night and I would say that the quality I admire most in you is your strength of character. Yes, that’s it. You have character. And, by the way, you were wrong a moment ago.’ He smiled wryly. ‘I have decided to accept your offer.’
People talked about hearts jumping into people’s mouths. Samantha had used to think it was an exaggeration. Now she knew it was true. Hers rocketed upwards, suspended for a second next to her thick tongue before settling back into her chest with a thump.
‘But...but...’ She scooped in a life-saving breath, her heart hammering in her chest. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening to her. Oh, God, what had she done?
Her flustered reaction brought a frowning look. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind? You vowed you wouldn’t.’
‘Well...I...’ Get a hold of yourself, you idiot! ‘No, I haven’t,’ she said, still shakily.
‘You don’t sound so sure.’
‘It’s just that...’ She hesitated, unable to find the right words. She couldn’t very well say what she was really feeling. That she was totally overwhelmed. Weakly ecstatic. Utterly terrified! ‘I was certain you would say no,’ she finally managed. ‘I guess I’ll need some time for it to sink in, to seem...real.’
‘It’s going to be real all right,’ he said drily. ‘Very real when it comes to the matter of us going to bed together. But you seemed well able to handle that aspect yesterday. Or is the idea of imminent sex with me too much for you in the cold light of day?’ he asked, his eyes never leaving hers.
She gulped. There was no doubt that Guy was watching her closely, observing her reaction. She had the feeling that he was putting her through some sort of test, and she aimed to come through with flying colours.
Arranging her face into a serious expression, s
he looked him straight in the eye. ‘I won’t say I don’t find the prospect somewhat daunting,’ she said. ‘But in this case the end justifies the means, wouldn’t you say?’
He nodded sagely. ‘That’s what I like about you. No nonsense. You see reality for what it is. God, I can live with that. Now, what about finance?’
‘Finance?’ she echoed.
‘Yes. I’ll call my solicitor and have a tentative partnership contract drawn up for you. I think a third share in Haywood Promotions would be fair for the mother of my child, don’t you? That should give you a six-figure income every year. Of course, I’ll also make you beneficiary of my life insurance policy in case anything untoward happens to me. And, naturally, I’ll buy you a house. I’d like it to be not far from mine. I’ll want to see as much of the baby as possible. But that can wait till you’re well and truly pregnant. Oh, and I’ll pay for a nanny or housekeeper or anything else you want as well. That is if you’d like to keep on working after the baby’s born. Do you think you’ll want to?’
Samantha’s mind was reeling. As were her emotions. It was all really going to happen. A baby. She was actually going to have Guy’s baby...
‘Yes,’ she said, trying not to sound as shaky as she felt. ‘I would like to come back to work.’
‘I thought you might,’ he said, looking very satisfied with everything. ‘You’ll be able to bring the baby into the office with you sometimes. I’ll enjoy minding him for you.’
Samantha tried not to gape. The mental image of Guy dandling a baby on his knee or changing nappies on the desk just didn’t fit.
His laughter startled her. ‘You don’t have to look so shocked, Sam. I’m going to be a good father. In fact, a great father. Just as you’re going to be a great mother. Hell, I couldn’t have chosen better if I’d held auditions for the role. But now on to a more delicate matter, but an unavoidable one. I presume you’re on the Pill?’
For a moment she was thrown till she realised he thought she’d been having a long-standing affair. ‘No, I’m not,’ she admitted.
