“Tell me,” Michael inquired, “has she ever done this before?”
“No, thank heaven. To tell the truth, I don’t think she would again, either.”
“Why not?”
“She said she couldn’t have gone through with it at all if you hadn’t been so nice. She said she was just about to give up the whole idea and go home, when you walked into the lounge. You were going to be her last try, and if you turned out to be as big a jerk as the rest of them, it would have been all over. Turned out you were wonderful and kind and gentle, she said. Meghan felt so guilty afterward, she could hardly look at herself in the mirror.”
“When did you find all this out?” Michael asked.
“Not until she came to Boston in September. By then it was way too late.”
“And I was never to know?” His tone was thoughtful, but not angry.
“You were supposed to leave town none the wiser,” Connie said with a shrug.
He certainly had left town “none the wiser,” thought Michael as he walked the streets of New Bedford. To say his anger kept him warm would be a gross understatement. He wondered how many men, including himself, had done that very same thing at least a dozen times. He had met and bedded beautiful women before, maybe even dated them once or twice afterward, only to never see them again—or even think of them again. How many of them had been impregnated accidentally or through their design? The thought was extremely disconcerting.
Oddly enough, taking into consideration Meghan’s deep desire to have a child, everything she had done made sense. If Michael hadn’t fallen in love with her, he would never have known and therefore he wouldn’t have cared or been affected in any way.
He could definitely understand her reluctance to tell him. At first it was probably to keep him from interfering. Later she probably wouldn’t have known how to, not to mention her fear of his reaction.
Did she really love him now? Or did she just find it convenient to have the father of her child in love with her. Being as objective as possible, he decided she did truly love him. She had tried to avoid him by running away to have her baby alone, just as she had planned. He had chased her. If she’d thought it was necessary for a child to have a father, she’d have found some other way to get pregnant. No, she had intended that the baby be fatherless.
So how long did she plan to keep Michael in the dark? The question intrigued him. And what should he do in the meantime—confront her and wring her neck, or hope to God she’d find the courage to tell him herself … and then wring her neck?
That he still had deep feelings for her, he couldn’t deny, but his pride and anger demanded retribution. Understanding her motives and knowing she had meant him no harm were of little comfort at this point. She was like an exotic snake to him, mysterious and repulsive at once.
On the other hand, maybe he should just keep walking, all the way back to New York and out of her life … maybe …
Meghan got up from her nap to find a sheepish Connie waiting to take his leave.
“I’m sorry I got so mad when you first told me about what you’d done,” he apologized. “But it was a damned fool thing to do. You could have been killed so easily, and I care too much about you to have you running around doing things like that.”
“I know, Connie, and I’m sorry. And please believe me. I have no intention of ever doing anything so rash again,” she replied adamantly.
“Well, hang on to Michael and he won’t let you. He’s a good man,” Connie approved, purposely avoiding telling her that he’d let the cat out of the bag.
“I know,” she said in sincere agreement.
“He’s going to make a great father for your kid,” Connie concluded.
“I know.”
Eleven
A COUPLE OF days later Michael returned from a trip into town and entered a darkened house.
“Shh,” hissed Meghan from the recesses of the couch.
By the light of the television he made his way across the room and sat on the cushion she was patting beside her. She crawled into his arms and draped her long legs out across the sofa.
He held her close, loving the feel of her body next to his. Her lavender scent filled the air. He inhaled deeply and rubbed his chin in the soft hair on the top of her head. One had rested below her left breast, the other made long soothing strokes over her large abdomen.
My lady and my baby, he thought wondrously. The times he’d dreamed of this moment, and yet as glorious as it was, it wasn’t as perfect as he’d hoped. If only she’d tell him. If only … Maybe if his latest idea to outmaneuver her worked, she’d be able to build up enough faith in him to tell him the truth. And if she couldn’t? Well, he didn’t relish the idea, but he knew as a last resort he could force her to explain … and then what? Time and self-counsel had done much to cool his ire, but the hurt and the desperate hope that Meghan would make things right remained.
He sat silently, relishing her nearness while an old black-and-white movie played on the television. As the hero paced impatiently back and forth on top of the Empire State Building, listening to the shrill sounds of ambulance and police sirens from below, Michael realized that the movie was vaguely familiar to him. It was then, too, that he noticed the tears streaming down Meghan’s cheeks.
He gave her an affectionate squeeze and lovingly kissed the top of her head. “I think I’ve seen this before. What’s the name of it?” he murmured softly, so as not to interrupt the drama.
She cast him a look of great disdain and blew her nose. “An Affair to Remember.” She sighed mournfully. “I’ve seen it a hundred times.”
“And do you cry every time?” he whispered in her ear.
“Every time,” she stated, snuggling closer to him.
He held her tighter, trying with all his might to transmit to her the enormity of his love. Consciously or subconsciously, she got the message. She looked at him with moist, bright green eyes. Her hand moved up slowly to rest on the late-afternoon stubble of his beard. Even its roughness felt wonderful to her.
“I love you,” she whispered, her eyes telling him how much.
He bent his head and sensuously nibbled on her lower lip. “And I love you, Meghan,” he murmured against her mouth.
He explored her lips and knew he’d never tire of the study. He passed his tongue between them and she opened to him willingly, her arm sliding around to the back of his neck. As their kiss deepened, she turned to press as tightly against his chest as she could, given her condition.
Their kisses softened sensuously, then deepened passionately until Michael, feeling his arousal, drew back slightly.
“You’re missing your movie,” he said on a long breath, as he ran his lips softly across hers.
“I know how it ends,” she mumbled against his neck, as her tongue made little swirling motions over his sensitive skin.
“You do know what you’re doing, don’t you?” His voice was thick and husky.
“I know I’m not knitting booties.” She planted kisses down the side of his neck.
Michael moaned his desire and gave her a quick squeeze. “Meghan, I want you so badly …”
“I love you, Michael. And I’m fairly certain that if you don’t let me make love with you pretty soon, there’s a good chance I’ll go blind,” she said solemnly, her eyes twinkling. “Actually, it’s taken all my willpower to keep from attacking you since you came through that door.”
“And you’re wasting all this perfectly good restraint on me?” he asked, amused and amazed, knowing self-control was not one of her strong points.
“I guess I’m finding it hard to believe you could love someone who looks like one of the World Trade Center buildings,” she admitted reluctantly.
Michael laughed. Casting her a sly look of disbelief, he said, “Why, Mary Meghan Shay. Are you fishing for a compliment?”
“A little reassurance, maybe,” she said coyly. “Let’s face it, I’m no longer the slim and lithe young woman I once was,” sh
e added, only half joking.
He gave her a considering smile. Aside from the night when they’d first met, this was the first time she had initiated any closeness between them. Michael thought it was a good sign. Perhaps it meant she was finally accepting the idea that he was part of her life now. Maybe it wouldn’t take much longer for her to build up her confidence in their love to tell him the truth. Time and encouragement might be all she needed.
“No, you’re not. But do you know the World Trade Center buildings have always been my most favorite buildings? In fact, if we got right down to it, I’d have to admit to being a large-building freak. They’ve always fascinated me,” he said, as he began to unbutton the front of her cotton blouse. “Before I got into journalism, I wanted to be an architect and build skyscrapers all over the world. But someone told me you had to be good in math to be an architect. It was my worst subject.”
He lowered his head and pressed his lips to the warm sloping valley between her breasts. Reaching around her, his hands savoring the feel of her smooth, warm skin, he released the catch to loosen her bra, while he said, “But I have never wanted to make love to one. Meghan, darlin’,” he said with a shake of his head, “your pregnant body is beautiful. As far as I’m concerned, there is nothing in the world more wondrous or magical than what’s happening in your body, to your body, and through your body. But more importantly”—his voice lowered to a deep caress as he looked into her pure green eyes—“I love you. Not just your body or just your brain or just your independence or just your humor or just any one thing about you. I love all of you. Totally and completely.”
Meghan’s chin quivered and tears welled in her eyes. Her heart throbbed painfully in her throat as she croaked out, “Oh, Michael.”
Never had she felt so loved, so cherished, or so wanted. She couldn’t remember her life ever being so wonderful or so worthwhile. Michael was everything to her. His touch thrilled her. His embrace made her feel protected and secure. His intelligence and humor befriended her own. Michael’s warmth and tenderness touched her very soul. He returned her love freely, and all she’d ever done was to cheat and lie to him.
Shame released her tears. One by one they rolled down her cheeks as she rose to place a gentle, heartfelt kiss on Michael’s lips.
“Shh,” he soothed. He knew her guilt and the burden she carried. He ached to help her overcome her fear. “Let me love you, Meghan. Let me show you how very much you mean to me. All I want in return is your trust.”
He kissed her passionately, drawing out her life’s breath and filling his own lungs with it. Meghan gave herself up to the moment. Her body was aquiver with the electric sensations Michael generated with his hands, lips, and tongue.
She couldn’t recall them moving into the bedroom or how she lost the rest of her clothes, but her Michael-drugged mind did register the fact that he was standing naked before her. His hands on her abdomen, he took one aroused, deep red nipple in his mouth to tease it further with his tongue and nibble at it with his teeth until Meghan thought she might faint.
The dimly lit room darkened around her, and her knees became like rubberbands. Michael had to lower her gently to the bed.
With his hands and mouth, he conveyed his abiding love for her. His words carved themselves into her heart. His body expressed his need to have her with him for all time.
Together they claimed the magical, mystical land only their coming together had the power to create. They reveled in its splendor and revered one another for making its existence possible. Finally, hand in hand, they returned. Spent. Satisfied. Closer for all they had shared.
“One of your better ideas,” Michael murmured against her temple a short time later, his breathing still rapid, skin damp from exertion.
“Mmm,” was her drowsy response.
Michael’s arm slid down from across her chest to her baby-filled belly. With his big hand he made soothing, circular motions.
He liked touching the baby, she thought vaguely. He wanted his baby, and married or not, she knew, Michael would be a good father. She had certainly made the right choice.
“I can hear your gears grinding. What are you thinking?” he asked in a sleepy voice.
“That movie, An Affair to Remember? It reminds me a little of us,” she confided.
“How so?”
“Well don’t you think our whole relationship just screams of fate? Not the night we first met, but you coming to our firm of all places, your being too dense to know a great brush-off when you get one. It all seems so planned.”
“Dense?” he repeated with mock indignation, hoping that with her usage of the word “planned,” she was about to tell him the rest of her secret.
“Yeah,” she said, and giggled. “Like stupid, dim-witted, not too bright …”
“I know what it means,” he broke in, coming up on one arm. “And you’re wrong. I was smart enough to know a good thing when I had it. Your original idea, however, is probably correct. When historians write about our love affair, they’ll call it Meghan and Michael: A Divine Design,” he finished, grinning.
She returned his teasing smile and pronounced, “I like that.”
“The title or my touching you?” he asked, as he continued the lazy circular motion.
“Both,” she murmured, as she cuddled closer to him. “You do that a lot. Why?”
“I’m trying to communicate with the baby,” he said simply, lying down once more, cradling Meghan in his arms. “I want it to like me.”
“Why on earth wouldn’t it like you?” Meghan asked, startled by his reply.
“It doesn’t know who I am yet. Once it’s born, we’ll get better acquainted. It’ll help me to convince you that the three of us were meant to be together. We were meant to be a family. It’s all part of the divine design of things.”
“Michael,” she cautioned, her tone guarded.
He laid a long index finger across her lips and said, “Wait a second. I can do a better job than that. Don’t move.”
He padded across the room and dug around in the top bureau drawer until he found a small purple velvet-covered box. Returning to the bed, he took Meghan back into his arms before he spoke.
“I got this for you for Christmas. It was going to be a sort of a … think-about-marrying-me ring … or if you wouldn’t have agreed to that, it was a ring you needed to own anyway. The minute I saw it, I knew you ought to have it. Open it.”
Meghan took the box hesitantly. She knew what was inside and she knew what it meant, but she didn’t know how she would be able to turn him down—and refuse him, she must. Even she couldn’t stoop low enough to marry Michael without telling him the whole truth about the baby. And if she told him, he’d hate her, not to mention the complications his anger would cause.
The ring was stunning. A small rectangular emerald surrounded by diamonds, it was exquisite.
“It matches your eyes,” he whispered near her ear. “Please marry me, Meghan. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to find words to tell you. I want you … I need to have you in my life.”
Meghan’s eyes were a portrait of agony as she turned to look into his face. She could see his deep love for her, but her guilt wouldn’t let her accept it.
“Michael, I … the baby … I …” She faltered on the cold, hard lump in her throat.
“I love you and I love the baby,” he assured her sincerely. “I’d be a good father, I promise.”
“You’d be a wonderful father,” she agreed. “It’s just that … I … I can’t.”
The misery in her expression tore at Michael’s heart. “Just tell me,” he screamed at her from inside. “I’ll still love you, and you’ll feel so much better.” He considered confessing that he already knew her secret, but her trust was important to him. He wanted her to believe their love could endure all things.
“Darlin’,” he said, giving her a tight squeeze. “Think about it. If things are too confusing right now, we’ll wait till after the baby’s born a
nd everything settles down. I was hoping to get married before the birth so I could give the baby my name, but I can always adopt it later.”
Meghan’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Is that why you’re doing this? To give my baby a name? To give it your name? Because if …”
“Meghan,” he broke in calmly, “I want to marry you because I love you. I planned to ask you when I left New York in December long before I knew about the baby. The baby has nothing to do with it except that it’s an added bonus,” he told her firmly. “And you can turn me down now if you want to, but I won’t give up. I’ve been waiting all my life for you. I won’t lose you.”
“Michael,” she murmured, her voice forlorn. Meghan believed Michael when he said he loved her. She knew in her heart of hearts it wasn’t just the baby he wanted.
“Let’s table it for the time being, darlin’. Think about it awhile. I’m content for the moment to settle for our just loving one another. I can wait a little longer until you’re ready to make a commitment. Let’s get some sleep.”
Meghan lay in Michael’s arms, but sleep eluded her. Michael, too, apparently was having trouble falling asleep as his embrace remained firm and he continued to caress her skin gently. Finally he softly cleared his throat, and Meghan braced herself to hear whatever it was he’d been ruminating about.
“You awake?” he asked, feeling she was but needing to be sure.
“Yes.”
“Why did you say the first night we met wasn’t part of the divine design? Can you tell me, yet, what it was all about?” he asked point-blank, wanting, needing to get it out in the open.
“Michael,” she started after a long, tense moment, “I do want to tell you. And I will tell you. I just can’t right now,” she said, giving in to her cowardice and pride.
He sighed resignedly. “Okay. I’ll wait.”
Long after Michael’s muscles had relaxed and his breathing had become deep and regular, Meghan was awake, her mind racing around and around in circles. She loved him with all her heart and soul, but she couldn’t marry him without being truthful. She couldn’t tell him the truth, because he’d despise her and her heart couldn’t bear it. Either way she’d eventually lose him. Maybe she should just tell him and get it over with. She drew in his spicy scent and savored his embrace. She’d rather walk on a bed of hot coals than tell him right now.
Divine Design Page 14
