The Pregnancy Proposal

by Helen Bianchin

  ‘You didn’t need to.’

  ‘You’re being ridiculously stubborn.’

  ‘Am I?’ She drew in a short breath and released it. ‘I guess that’s my prerogative.’ It took considerable courage to hold his gaze. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to go freshen up.’ She checked her watch, and grimaced ruefully. ‘I’m already late.’

  ‘Late for what?’

  Jared’s voice held an ominous thread she chose to ignore. ‘Eloise rang to say Simon is out of town for a few days, and I suggested we meet for dinner.’

  ‘A girls’ night out?’

  ‘Yes.’ She moved past him and entered the bedroom she’d occupied the night before. It didn’t take long to freshen up, repair her make-up and re-do her hair.

  Jared watched her emerge into the lounge, and experienced the familiar surge of desire. She was everything he wanted, all he needed. Dammit, she was his.

  The thought of any other man coming near her…worse, being given the right, almost undid him.

  Did she have any conception of how he’d managed to get through the day without seriously impairing his reputation?

  ‘Tasha.’

  She turned as she reached the door, watchful as he closed the distance between them. ‘Yes?’

  ‘You forgot something.’

  A puzzled frown creased her forehead. Purse, keys… ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘This,’ he murmured as he cupped a hand to her face and brushed his lips to her own, lingered, then he deepened the kiss to something warmly evocative before lifting his head.

  He smiled faintly at her slight confusion, aware of her response for an unguarded instant. ‘Drive carefully.’

  Oh, God, she agonised as she rode the lift down to the basement car park. Why did he have to do that? She could still feel the slow sweep of his tongue on her own, the pressure of his mouth. Not to mention the quickened beat of her heart.

  She made a quick call to Eloise from her cell-phone to say she was running late, then she drove the car to street-level.

  Traffic was heavy, with a number of vehicles heading for the city, and it was almost eight when she entered the restaurant.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Tasha offered as she slid into the seat opposite Eloise.

  The attractive blonde smiled and indicated her half-empty glass of wine. ‘A gentleman had the waiter bring me champagne with his compliments. And a note offering his—er—services for the evening.’

  ‘Naturally you declined.’

  ‘It was tempting,’ Eloise relayed solemnly, and Tasha bit back a mischievous laugh. She’d known Eloise since their pre-teen years when they’d commiserated over pimples, teeth braces, and lusted after the male television and movie stars of the moment.

  Relationships, they’d experienced a few, and supported each other when they fell apart. Now Eloise was happily married to Simon, and Tasha was with Jared…and pregnant.

  Tasha picked up the menu. ‘OK, what are we eating?’

  The drinks waiter arrived, and she requested chilled mineral water.

  ‘I’m driving.’ It was a weak excuse, and she knew it. ‘So am I,’ Eloise stated. ‘But one glass won’t pitch either of us over the legal limit.’

  They ordered, choosing an entrée, skipped the main, and settled on fresh fruit, cheese and crackers instead of dessert.

  ‘It’s no fun being virtuous.’

  Tasha sipped from her glass, then replaced it onto the table. ‘Speak for yourself.’

  ‘I thought Jared might have been with you.’

  ‘Disappointed?’

  ‘Not in the least. We rarely get to go out on our own.’

  ‘Without the men of the moment.’

  ‘OK, what gives?’

  Tasha picked up her glass and took a leisurely sip. ‘What makes you think anything does?’

  ‘Too many years of friendship. Are you going to talk, or do we continue to pretend nothing’s wrong?’

  Eloise would know soon enough, so it might as well be now. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  ‘You’re kidding me.’

  ‘I wish.’

  ‘What do you mean, you wish? Maybe the timing isn’t right, but Tasha…a baby. I think it’s wonderful.’ She leaned forward. ‘So when’s the wedding?’

  ‘There isn’t going to be one.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I’m not going to marry Jared.’

  ‘This is serious stuff.’ Eloise pushed her plate to one side and leaned forward. ‘Didn’t he ask you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you refused? Are you insane?’

  Quite possibly. ‘I don’t want marriage just because it serves a purpose.’

  ‘Stubborn,’ Eloise declared with brutal honesty. ‘You’re being ridiculously, pathetically stubborn.’

  ‘Stubborn, huh?’

  ‘Forget the dream, and go with reality. Marry the man.’

  ‘Sure,’ Tasha agreed. ‘And wonder if it’ll last? If he’ll be enticed by the excitement of an affair…singular or plural. Consign the wife and child to one side and indulge in extramarital sex.’

  ‘Many marriages exist and survive in those circumstances.’

  ‘More fool the wives who condone them.’

  ‘You’d be surprised how many do.’

  ‘In exchange for the mansion, social and professional status, overseas trips…not to mention their husband’s wealth,’ Tasha concluded cynically.

  ‘Better the legal advantage of wife, than mistress.’

  ‘So…why not me? Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘What will change?’ Eloise demanded. ‘You adore the guy, he clearly adores you. Dammit, you’ve lived together for two years. So, the pregnancy wasn’t planned. So what? It happened, and it can’t be undone. Well, it can, but, knowing you, you wouldn’t consider abortion as an option.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’ll deny your child a live-in father and the stable relationship of two full-time parents…because of stubborn pride?’

  ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘Take a reality check, Tasha.’

  ‘You didn’t settle for anything less than love.’

  ‘If you remember, it was a rocky path to the altar.’

  Rocky was an understatement, she reflected. An engagement that was more off than on. Yet Eloise and Simon had resolved their differences, and as far as she could tell the magic that had shimmered beneath the surface was still there.

  ‘So you think I’m being a fool?’

  ‘Yes.’

  There was nothing like the honesty given from the benefit of a long friendship! ‘Yet you know I’m going to do it my way, regardless?’

  ‘I don’t have the slightest doubt.’

  Minutes later another waiter presented them with a tastefully decorated platter of fresh fruit, assorted nuts, cheese and crackers.

  ‘Enough about me,’ Tasha dismissed as the waiter took their order for tea and coffee. ‘How’s business?’ Eloise was a high-flying executive in a public-relations firm who dealt with an interesting range of clients.

  ‘Hectic.’ The attractive blonde grimaced slightly. ‘Simon’s flight arrives from Tokyo an hour before mine departs for Sydney.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘We’ll be lucky if we catch sight of each other. There’s a lot to be said for the nine-to-five daily grind.’

  ‘As opposed to fame and fortune?’ Simon dealt in corporate real estate, worldwide, setting up multimillion-dollar deals involving buildings, hotels. Formerly based in New York, he’d made his home in Brisbane following his marriage to Eloise.

  ‘I guess it would be selfish to want both?’

  ‘Not possible,’ Tasha opined solemnly.

  ‘Because there’s no such thing as a perfect world?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  It was almost eleven when they left the restaurant. The adjacent parking area was well-lit, and Eloise’s car occupied the bay next to her own.

  ‘I’ll be in touch,’ Eloise promis
ed as she unlocked her door. ‘Take care, Tasha, and think about what I said.’

  ‘Shall do.’

  The possibility Eloise was right didn’t escape her as she followed her friend’s car onto street-level.

  It was a beautiful night, the sky a deep indigo sprinkled with stars and a sickle moon. Bright lights, colourful neon, traffic. Reflections of the sky-scape evident in the smooth waters of the city river.

  Self-castigation was not an uplifting experience, Tasha determined as she took the exit lane from the bridge.

  What was wrong with her? Why not accept Jared’s proposal, enjoy being Mrs Jared North, gift her child legitimacy, and to hell with her high ideals?

  She needed her head read. Anyone else would go eagerly into the marriage and be content with whatever Jared offered. She knew he cared for her. So what if lust was a poor substitute for love?

  Any number of women would be willing to settle for less, given Jared’s personal wealth, professional and social status. He was a generous man, in bed and out of it. Wasn’t that enough?

  Was she a fool for wanting it all?

  The answer had to be an unequivocal yes.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE apartment was quiet as she entered the foyer, and she crossed to the kitchen, withdrew bottled water from the refrigerator and filled a glass, drank some, then she made for the hallway.

  Was Jared home?

  The sudden thought he might have gone out resulted in a frown. He would have rung, surely? Or at least left a text message on her cell-phone.

  ‘Enjoy your evening?’

  He stood framed in the aperture leading to the room he used as a study. One wall was lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, another wall contained a long credenza. There was an antique desk which held his laptop surrounded by legal files, and a thick yellow legal pad.

  Attired in black jeans, a white chambray shirt unbuttoned at the neck with the sleeve cuffs carelessly turned back, his hair slightly ruffled as if he’d dragged his fingers through it, he looked vaguely piratical, even satanical.

  Dark eyes, dark hair, olive skin, his expression unfathomable as he stood regarding her.

  Tasha felt vaguely defensive, even wary. Normally she’d have moved in close, reached up and kissed him, sure of her welcome, the feel of his arms closing around her slender form as they pulled her in and he deepened the kiss.

  Sometimes they’d talk, but most often he’d simply sweep an arm beneath her knees and carry her into their bedroom. Fast and furious, slow and gentle…one would inevitably follow the other in a long loving far into the night. Often the talking waited until morning as they showered together, ate breakfast, dressed for the day.

  Now Tasha remained still, unfamiliar uncertainty meshing with an undeniable sexual attraction. ‘Yes.’

  Jared didn’t move, and she contemplated walking straight past him to the spare bedroom.

  Except there was a waiting, watching quality to his stance. A silent warning she instinctively knew she’d do well to heed.

  ‘Working hard?’ It was a light query, and unnecessary. He was one of a few people she knew who could survive on four or five hours’ sleep and face whatever the day held with energy and purpose.

  Razor-sharp was a superlative often used in reference to Jared North’s mind power, his memory recall. Very little, if anything, escaped him.

  ‘A few more hours should do it.’

  The faint drawling quality sent prickles of unease up her spine. They were both being excruciatingly polite. Too polite, she perceived, aware there was a degree of anger beneath the surface of his control.

  With her? Of course with her! The pregnancy was her fault. Well, not entirely, but she could have, should have been aware of the consequences and ensured extra precautions were taken. Except she hadn’t given the possibility of pregnancy a thought.

  Divine intervention? A test by the Deity to determine the strength of their relationship?

  Oh, dammit, Tasha cursed silently. She was really losing it!

  ‘Goodnight.’ She made to step past him, only to pause as his hand closed over her shoulder. Firm fingers cupped her chin, tilting it so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. ‘Don’t.’ Dear heaven, he was so close, too close. ‘Please,’ she added quietly.

  Jared touched a finger to her lower lip, and he offered a faint smile. ‘Afraid, Tasha?’

  ‘Of you? No.’

  ‘So brave.’ His voice held a mocking tinge she chose to ignore.

  It took courage to project cool when her pulse felt as if it was jumping out of her skin. ‘Is there a purpose to this?’

  ‘Does there need to be one?’

  ‘Yes,’ she managed evenly.

  ‘By all means…’ His mouth closed over hers in a gentle exploration, teasing, evocative, as he held her there.

  For an instant she began to respond, the instinctive inclination automatic, then reaction set in and she strained against him, unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed as he let her go.

  ‘You don’t play fair.’ Her breath hitched a little as she sought control.

  ‘Did you imagine I would?’

  She looked at him, caught the stillness in that dark gaze, and recognised the need to act with her head and not her heart.

  ‘No.’ Beneath the sophisticated façade there was a primitive ruthlessness apparent, a hard strength coupled with indomitable power. Characteristics that made him a man feared in a court of law…and out of it.

  A sensual man, she added silently, practised in the art of lovemaking and pleasing a woman. Intense passion and great tendresse…he employed both with considerable skill. Yet there was also the hint of sweet savagery, well-leashed, but exigent none the less.

  A tiny shiver slithered the length of her spine. Jared North was someone no one in their right mind would choose to have as an enemy in any arena.

  ‘I’m going to bed.’ She turned away from him and took the few steps necessary to bring her level with the spare bedroom.

  ‘Sleep well.’

  Tasha ignored the faint irony in his voice, and chose not to respond as she entered the room. She turned on the light switch, then closed the door quietly behind her and stood leaning against it for several minutes.

  She was tired, mentally, emotionally, physically, but she doubted her ability to enjoy an easy night’s sleep.

  There were too many thoughts chasing contrarily through her mind, and she endeavoured to dispense with them as she removed her clothes. Make-up came next, then she donned a nightshirt and slid in between the sheets.

  She must have slept, for she was caught up in a dream so realistically vivid she was there, living the fight to save her baby from being taken away. She screamed at the nurse to bring him back, but no sound came out, and she screamed again, louder this time, forcing her voice in a bid to be heard. But the nurse kept walking, and Tasha tried to get out of bed to go after her, only she was hooked up to various machines, drips, and she began pulling at the tubes, swearing at her seeming inability to disconnect them as she sought to free herself.

  Then there was a familiar voice, hands whose soothing touch provided a calming influence, and although she heard the words, none of them seemed to register. The scene switched to another, one where the baby was now a young toddler, laughing as he played with toys on the lawn out back of a beautiful home, and she was there, watching with maternal pride.

  Dreams, fantasy, wishful thinking. Perhaps a little of each. When she woke she retained a vivid recollection, and there was an awareness of the dawn filtering through the shutters, followed by the knowledge this wasn’t the spare bedroom, nor was she alone.

  Had she cried through the night? Or had Jared—?

  ‘You called my name.’ He’d hit the floor running at the first scream, and arrived to pull her into his arms as the next scream emerged from her throat.

  The tortured voice had chilled him to the bone, and he’d pulled her close, soothing until she quietened, then he’d b
rought her into his bed, gathered her in and held her through the night.

  Was she aware she’d clung to him in her sleep? Whimpered indistinctly whenever he sought to ease her into a more comfortable position?

  Tasha felt the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek, sensed the warmth and slight muskiness of his skin, and experienced a familiar sensation unfurling deep within. The quickened pulse-beat, the sensitised pores, and an electrifying awareness that curled through her body, rendering it boneless, his, anticipating the drift of his fingers, the touch of his lips.

  It was an achingly familiar pattern most mornings as they indulged in a slow lovemaking. Soft sighs, lingering kisses, and the sweet sorcery of seduction.

  Then they’d slip from this large bed, share a leisurely shower before dressing for the day ahead, eat breakfast together and take the lift down to the basement car park.

  This morning was different. So much had changed in the past forty-eight hours. Gone was the easy camaraderie, the sanctuary of unreserved loving. Now there were barriers, doubts, reservations.

  Insecurities and unresolved resentment, she added silently, aware that every second she remained quiescent related to an invitation she was reluctant to offer.

  Two years of unrestrained loving, yet at this moment she felt as nervous as she had the first time they’d shared sex.

  ‘I must get up.’

  Jared’s hand slid from her ribcage to her stomach. ‘Stay.’

  The breath caught in her throat, and she tamped down the need. If she stayed, there could only be one end, and although she craved the wild, primitive pleasure his touch would provide, she’d only despise herself afterwards for giving in.

  ‘I can’t.’

  There was a lost, almost forlorn edge to her voice that tore at him more than the words she uttered.

  ‘Stay,’ he repeated gently. ‘With me.’

  Did he have any idea how hard it was for her to refuse? Or how easy it would be to give in? But what price a love that wasn’t equal? Self-survival had to be her ultimate goal. And she couldn’t, wouldn’t settle for anything less than his total commitment. Willingly given, not out of duty.

  Right now she needed to get out of this bed and put some distance between them, for if he kissed her she’d be lost.