His presence at her side was a constant, and she was supremely conscious of him, the light touch of his hand at her waist, the warmth of his smile.
All she had to do was look at him to feel the blood pump faster through her veins, and sensation unfurl deep within. It became a fine kind of madness that was entirely sensual as heat consumed her body and liquefied her bones.
Those large hands could wreak magic to each and every pulse-beat, and his mouth… Dear heaven, even thinking about what his mouth could do wrought havoc with her senses.
Almost as if he knew, he reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through her own. His thumb-pad soothed the criss-cross of veins pulsing rapidly on the inside of her wrist, and she curled her fingers, letting the fingernails bite into his flesh a little.
Did he know what he did to her? Without doubt, she alluded wryly. She’d been his from the start, ensnared by the power, the sheer male magnetism that was his alone.
The question that needed to be asked…and answered, she ventured silently, was how she affected him? Sexually, what they shared together was good. Better than good. Earth-shattering. She’d have sworn on her life his loss of control wasn’t faked.
But was it love…or merely lust? Sadly, she couldn’t be sure.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ Jared drawled as he pulled her close. ‘The evening is just about done, and we’ve fulfilled our social obligation.’
His gaze narrowed fractionally as he caught the edge of weariness evident on her features, the faint shadows beneath her eyes. Dammit, she looked fragile. The onset of a virus? She’d admitted to a difficult day at the office, which was most unlike her. She excelled with challenge of any kind.
Tasha made no protest, although the thought of exchanging a social comfort zone for what would inevitably prove an explosive situation accelerated her nervous tension.
It took a while to escape, for there were certain courtesies to observe, and Tasha sat quietly in the car as Jared sent it purring through the city streets.
They entered the apartment close to midnight…the witching hour, Tasha acknowledged, and wondered at the irony of it.
‘Coffee?’
‘No, thanks.’
Jared closed the distance between them, and glimpsed the faint wariness evident in her gaze. He caught her chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted it.
‘You’ve been as nervous as a cat on hot bricks all evening.’ His musing drawl had an underlying edge to it. ‘Why?’
There was no easy way to impart her news. She hesitated, reflecting on a few rehearsed lines she’d silently practised…in the office, driving from work, during the evening…and discarded each and every one of them.
‘Tasha?’ A slight smile widened his mouth. ‘What did you do? Earn a traffic violation? Over-extend your credit limit?’ The last was an attempt at humour, and he caught the faint roll of her eyes before she shook her head. ‘No?’ He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, felt its slight quiver, and ditched any further attempt to lighten the situation. ‘I take it this is something serious?’
Oh, man, she reflected ruefully. You don’t know the half of it.
‘Do I continue to play twenty questions, or are you going to tell me?’
She threw out the soft approach and went for hard facts. ‘I’m pregnant.’
Was it benefit of courtroom practice that allowed no expression to show on his features? There was no surprise or shock, and Tasha pre-empted the question she thought he’d be compelled to ask.
‘I had a doctor’s appointment late this morning. He confirmed it.’ She spread her hands in a helpless gesture, then sought to explain how and why the Pill hadn’t been effective. ‘I thought I had a lingering virus.’
Of the many scenarios she’d imagined depicting his reaction, she hadn’t counted on his silence.
She looked at him carefully. ‘I won’t consider a termination.’ This child is mine, she cried silently. But so much a part of you. The thought of relinquishing its chance to life almost killed her.
Dear heaven, why didn’t he say something…anything.
‘Did I ask that of you?’
All afternoon and evening she’d been on tenterhooks worrying about his reaction, agonising if the existence of a child might spell the end of their relationship.
‘We’ll get married.’
Her whole body stilled. ‘Why?’ Because you love me?
‘It’s an expedient solution.’
She felt as if her heart tore, then shattered into a thousand pieces. ‘I don’t want a marriage based on duty. And I sure as hell don’t want my child to be brought into a loveless arrangement.’
Jared’s eyes darkened. ‘Loveless?’ A muscle bunched at the side of jaw. ‘How can you say that?’
‘Have either of us mentioned the word love?’ He hadn’t, not once. And because he hadn’t, neither had she. ‘We’re sexually compatible.’ On a scale of one to ten, she’d accord what they shared as a twenty. Mind-blowing. She hadn’t experienced anything like it, and doubted she ever would with anyone else.
‘We’ve been incredibly indulgent, with no thought to changing the relationship in any way.’ She paused, aware she was dying inside. ‘Pregnancy wasn’t part of it. Nor was marriage.’
‘You’re carrying our child.’
‘Marriage doesn’t necessarily have to follow.’
‘I’m proposing that it does.’
She held his gaze. ‘Answer me honestly. If my pregnancy wasn’t an issue, would you have broached the subject of marriage?’
Please give me the reassurance I want, need, she silently begged. Sweep away my doubts and uncertainties by saying just one word, now.
His expression didn’t change. ‘I imagine so, eventually.’
She felt as if a sword pierced her heart, and it took considerable effort to keep her voice steady. ‘I don’t want you as a husband out of a sense of obligation.’
‘Two years together and you question my obligation?’
It wouldn’t do if she crumbled at his feet. ‘Two years during which either one of us has been free to walk away,’ Tasha said quietly. ‘My definition of marriage comprises love and a permanent “till death us do part” significance. If you had wanted that, you’d have suggested marriage before now.’
‘Which you choose to interpret as me preferring an open relationship with no legal ties?’
His slight hesitation together with his choice of words had provided an answer.
‘Yes.’
‘And you couldn’t possibly be wrong?’
Do you know how desperately I want to be wrong? She felt like railing at him. I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life…as your wife, the mother of your children. But not, dear God, as a second-best choice borne out of duty. I’d rather be alone than know I’d forced you into a role you didn’t want.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘But you’re not sure?’
‘Don’t use counsellor tactics on me. Save them for the courtroom.’
Without a further word she turned and walked down the hall to the master bedroom where she caught up her wrap, a few essential toiletries, and made her way to the guest room. Only to come face-to-face with Jared.
She registered the suit jacket hooked over one shoulder, the loosened tie and the semi-unbuttoned shirt. It lent him a rakish look and succeeded in activating a spiral of sensation she fought to restrain.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ His appraisal was swift, and his eyes darkened as she made to move past him.
‘Sleeping in the spare room.’
She could sense the tension in his large body, the tightening of muscle and sinew as he exercised control. ‘The hell you are.’
The deadly softness of his voice issued a warning she elected to ignore. ‘I don’t want to have sex with you.’
His gaze hardened, a fractional shift of his features that reminded her of a panther’s stillness the moment before it leapt to attack. �
��I accept that. But we share the same bed.’
And risk succumbing to his brand of subtle persuasion?
She was all too aware it would only take the glide of his hand on her hip, the familiar trail to her belly and the gentle but sure fingers seeking the soft folds at the juncture of her thighs to rouse her into semi-wakefulness and turn to him in the night.
By the time she remembered, it would be too late, and she’d be lost. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Tasha—’
‘Don’t.’ She lifted a hand, then let it fall to her side. ‘Please,’ she added. ‘I want to be alone right now.’
It was the please that got to him.
‘We need to talk.’
‘We’ve already done that.’ Her voice was even, calm, when inside she was breaking apart. Hurting so badly, so deeply, she’d probably bear the scars from it for the rest of her life.
His gaze locked with hers, the force of his will vying with her own for long, timeless seconds, then he moved aside to let her pass.
The guest room held its own linen closet, and she undressed, donned her wrap, removed her make-up, then she made up the bed, slid between the cool percale sheets and switched off the bedlamp.
Sleep came easily, but she woke in the early hours of the morning, momentarily disoriented by her surroundings until she remembered where she was and why.
The bed was comfortable, but she wasn’t curled in against Jared’s muscled frame as he held her close, even in sleep. She missed the steady beat of his heart, his reassuring warmth. The way he seemed to sense when she stirred during the night, how he’d gather her in and press his lips to the curve of her shoulder.
Inevitably it would lead to lovemaking, and she delighted in the fact he could never get enough of her. Secure in the relationship and what they shared.
Not any more, a tiny voice taunted. You blew it.
It was then the tears began to well, spilling over to slip in slow rivulets to her temples and become lost in her hair.
Tasha lay awake, staring at the darkened ceiling until the grey light of an early dawn crept between the shutters, giving the room shape and form, followed by subtle shades of colour.
It was too soon to rise and meet the day, and any further hope of sleep was out of the question. She could slip into the master suite and retrieve what she needed to wear into the office. Except she’d encounter Jared…something that was unavoidable, but she’d prefer to face him when they were both dressed. Which meant she’d need to wait until six-thirty, when he left the apartment for his daily workout in the downstairs gym.
At six-forty she took a leisurely shower in the hope it would ease the tiredness. It didn’t, and she brushed her hair until her scalp tingled.
With care she tidied the bed, caught up the clothes she’d worn the previous evening, and entered the master suite.
The large bed bore witness of Jared’s occupation, the covers a tangled mess, the pillows bunched at different angles. So he hadn’t had an easy night of it, either.
Somehow the thought gave her pleasure as she crossed to the large walk-in wardrobe.
Clothes were everything, and she began with her sexiest underwear, pulled on the sheerest tights, added a new suit she’d bought only the week before but hadn’t worn, and slid her feet into killer stiletto-heeled shoes. Then she collected her bag of cosmetics and returned down the hall to the guest suite.
Make-up was both an art form and a weapon, and she took extra care with its application, highlighting her eyes before sweeping her hair into a smooth chignon. A touch of perfume, and she was about as ready as she’d ever be to face whatever the day might bring.
Any hope of escaping the apartment before Jared’s return died as she entered the kitchen and saw him seated at the breakfast table sipping black coffee as he scanned the morning’s newspaper.
His usual routine on return from the gym was to shower, shave, dress, eat, then leave for the city.
This morning he’d chosen to reverse the process, and the sight of him in sweats, his hair ruffled from exertion, and looking incredibly physical sent the blood racing through her veins.
He lifted his head and his gaze seared hers. It gave him no pleasure to see the carefully masked signs showing she hadn’t slept any better than he had.
‘Coffee’s hot.’
Tasha made tea, added milk, slid bread into the toaster, then peeled and ate a banana as she waited for the toast to pop. When it did, she spread honey, and carried both tea and toast to the table.
Begin as you mean to go on, she bade silently. Anything less is a compromise you don’t want to make.
‘I’ll arrange an apartment of my own within the next few days,’ she said quietly. She took a deep breath, then released it slowly. Her throat felt as if it were closing over, and she swallowed in an attempt to ease the restriction.
‘You think I’ll allow you to do that?’ His voice was quiet, much too quiet.
She was willing to swear she stopped breathing, and for a few timeless seconds she wasn’t capable of summoning a coherent word.
‘It’s not your decision to make,’ she managed at last.
‘No?’ The silky tone held something she didn’t care to define.
‘My child, my body.’ It was as if she was hell-bent on treading a path to self-destruction.
‘Our child,’ he corrected. ‘Our decision.’ He stood to his feet, aware he outmatched her in height, size and weight. He caught the faint flicker of alarm in her eyes and derived satisfaction from it. Dammit, he’d take any advantage he could get.
She stood her ground. ‘I’ve already made my decision.’
‘Change it.’
She checked her watch. ‘I have to leave, or I’ll be late.’ She collected her briefcase and walked from the apartment, then she took the lift down to the basement car park, slid into the BMW and sent it up to street-level.
Focusing on work took all her concentration, and it didn’t sit well when a para-legal pointed out something she’d missed, when she should have picked up on it. A minor error, but it gave her pause for thought.
Tasha’s lunch was a sandwich she sent out for, which she ate at her desk in between contacting real-estate agents. The sooner she tied up a lease on an apartment the better, and she made appointments to view at the end of her working day.
The afternoon didn’t fare much better, and it was a relief to join the building’s general exodus shortly after five.
Her first appointment didn’t work out. She could have ignored the female agent’s over-the-top presentation if the apartment had lived up to expectations. It didn’t, and what was more the rental was way overpriced.
The second was an improvement, but Tasha didn’t like the location.
‘I can get you anything you want if you’re prepared to pay,’ the agent snapped. ‘Both apartments I’ve shown you are in the price-range you quoted.’
‘I have a few others to see tomorrow,’ she dismissed coolly. ‘I’ll get back to you.’
Going home held a new connotation. She was very aware the apartment and everything in it belonged to Jared. Clothes and select items of jewellery comprised her possessions. She’d given up a lease on her own apartment and her furniture had been put in storage when she’d moved in with Jared.
The muted ring of her cell-phone sounded from inside her bag, and she retrieved it, checked the caller ID and felt her stomach muscles tighten. Jared.
‘Where in hell are you?’
‘Three blocks away at a set of traffic lights,’ she answered reasonably.
‘It’s almost seven. You didn’t think to call and say you’d be late?’
‘I lost track of time.’ The lights changed and cars up front began to move. ‘Got to go.’ She cut the connection before he had a chance to respond.
Jared was standing in the lounge, hands thrust into his trouser pockets, when she entered the apartment. The adopted casual stance belied the tense set of his features.
‘Perha
ps you’d care to explain?’
There was nothing like the truth. ‘I was viewing apartments with an agent.’ She began loosening the buttons on her jacket, only to pause part-way when she remembered all she wore beneath it was a bra…a very skimpy number that was little more than a scrap of moulded red lace.
Tasha saw his eyes flare, then harden as she refastened the buttons.
‘A useless exercise. You’re not going anywhere.’
Calm. All she needed to do was to remain calm. ‘I don’t believe you have the right to tell me what I can or can’t do.’
Jared lifted an arm and indicated the room. ‘Why move out when we can share this apartment?’
See you every morning, every night? Separate bedrooms, separate meals, polite conversation? And die a little every time? ‘I don’t think so,’ she responded with a politeness that belied her emotions.
‘Tasha.’ His voice held a silky warning she chose to ignore, and her expression held a mix of fearless pride.
‘I have no intention of denying you access,’ she managed quietly.
‘To you?’
She didn’t misunderstand his implication. ‘To the child,’ she elaborated.
‘Unlimited time. Your place or mine, but I don’t get to stay?’
‘I don’t want the child to sense its father might only be a temporary entity who might choose to walk out of its life at any time.’
His gaze hardened measurably. ‘You must know I would never do that.’
‘Perhaps not.’ She waited a beat. ‘However, your future wife may not be so keen to welcome a child from a previous relationship.’
‘As you will be my wife, that doesn’t apply.’
One fine eyebrow arched in silent query. ‘Another proposal you expect me to accept, when I know that, had it not been for the child, marriage was never your intention? Thanks, but no, thanks.’
A muscle tensed at the edge of his jaw. ‘I don’t recall saying marriage wasn’t my intention.’
He was good, very good. But wasn’t it the skill of his chosen profession to utilise words to their best advantage? To confuse the defendant and cleverly persuade admissions which otherwise might be withheld?
The Pregnancy Proposal Page 2
