The Pregnancy Proposal

by Helen Bianchin

  ‘I need to go into the office early this morning.’ Even as she uttered the words she was easing away from him, smooth, deliberate movements he made no effort to still as she slid from the bed and crossed to the door. If she chose to shower in the adjacent en suite he might see it as an invitation to join her, and the resulting intimacy would be more than she could bear.

  Half an hour later she’d showered and utilised the hair-drier. All her clothes, she qualified with a faint grimace, were in the master bedroom, along with her lingerie, hose, shoes.

  With luck, Jared would be in the shower and she could retrieve what she needed without him being aware she was there.

  Chance would be a fine thing, she acknowledged on re-entering the bedroom. He was in the process of dressing, a pair of black silk briefs sparing his tall muscular frame from nudity.

  She caught a glimpse of broad shoulders, lightly tanned flesh and the fluid movement of muscle and sinew as he reached for a white cotton shirt, aware of the ease with which he closed the buttons before pulling on elegantly tailored trousers to his waist and deftly sliding the zip fastener closed.

  There was nothing she could do to prevent the spiralling sensation curling through her body. Trying to stop it was akin to halting an incoming tide…impossible.

  Part of her ached for the loss of their affectionate humour, the light-hearted teasing. A week ago she’d have crossed to his side, lifted her face to his and kissed him, exulting in the lingering afterglow of a fine loving.

  She adored the sight and the feel of him, his male muskiness, the subtle aroma of his favoured Cerruti cologne. It felt so right to sink into him, so incredibly reassuring to have his arms close around her slender frame and pull her in.

  His mouth… Dear heaven, just thinking about the erotic pleasure he could bestow heated her blood and sent it coursing through her veins.

  Stop it. The self-admonition came as a silent scream.

  Tasha drew in a deep breath, then systematically gathered what she needed and retreated to the spare bedroom.

  It took determined effort to dress, fix her hair and apply make-up. Force of habit had her tidying the room, straightening bedcovers, then she collected her briefcase and walked out to the kitchen where the smell of freshly perked coffee teased her taste buds.

  She’d have killed for a cup of hot black coffee, and bit her lip as she filled the electric kettle, slotted bread into the toaster, and settled for tea.

  ‘Anything in particular on the day’s agenda?’ Jared queried as she took a seat at the breakfast bar. ‘You expressed a need to go in to work early,’ he added at her faintly startled glance.

  He was adept at interpreting body language, and hers held a transparent quality lacking in artifice. Infectious wit, unerring courage and conviction, honesty, integrity. Add charm, and she’d shone like a beacon in a sea of multi-layered women whose true personality lay buried so deep he’d treated them as they regarded him…a pleasant social and sexual partner.

  Until Tasha.

  ‘A few things I need to catch up on,’ she managed evenly. It was an extension of the truth, for all it entailed was checking a file, making a notation, and requesting one of the stenographers insert the correction and run another copy off ready for the client to sign.

  Five minutes…ten, at the most. And the client’s appointment was timed for nine-thirty.

  She finished her toast, drank the last of her tea, then she stood to her feet and caught up her briefcase.

  ‘I could be late tonight.’

  Jared regarded her steadily. ‘Same goes. Don’t wait dinner.’ He reached out a hand and caught hold of her arm. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’

  He took advantage of her surprise to pull her close, slanting his mouth over hers before she had a chance to resist.

  She possessed the sweetest lips, full and generously curved, and he savoured them gently, nibbling at the lower centre before deepening the kiss into something flagrantly sensual.

  Tasha didn’t want to respond, and for the space of a few seconds she succeeded, only to succumb to the witching magic of his touch.

  When he lifted his head she barely resisted the temptation to pull his head down to hers and kiss him back.

  Did he sense her indecision? Perhaps deliberately playing on it in the hope it might persuade her to cease looking for an apartment of her own?

  All the more reason, she determined, to seek independence. Soon. For the longer she remained in Jared’s apartment, the harder it would be not to succumb to temptation.

  Jared was a master when it came to seduction technique, she acknowledged wryly. His brooding look with its element of heat and passion, the light tracery as his fingers sought the veins at her wrist, a sensuous curve to his mouth…it added up to a magnetic culmination of the senses, and she became lost, drawn to him as a moth to a flame.

  She didn’t want to crash and burn. She needed to survive.

  Without a word she turned and walked through the lounge to the front door, closed it quietly behind her and summoned the lift.

  It became a day where anything that could go wrong, did. Two stenographers called in sick, and redistributing their workload meant documentation which should have been ready for client signature wasn’t available for scheduled appointments.

  Tasha’s immediate superior succumbed to a migraine mid-morning and took a cab home, leaving Tasha to reshuffle appointments.

  Lunch was something she sent out for and ate at her desk while she put one call after another through to various real-estate agents in the hope one of them might at least have two suitable apartments on their books she could arrange to view. Preferably after work today.

  The sooner she moved into an apartment of her own the better. It was one thing if her subconscious mind was intent on providing her with nightmarish dreams…but quite another if it led to her calling Jared’s name in her sleep.

  A tremor ran through her body. Waking in his arms put her far too close to the danger zone.

  Did he have any conception just how vulnerable she was? Or how difficult it had been not to reach for him and slip easily into their customary early-morning loving?

  She’d managed to escape this morning. But how long would it take for her to give in? Especially when Jared was intent on taking unfair advantage of every situation? A day, two, three? Then she’d be lost, her bid for independence a foolish quirk so easily overcome. Worse, it would be at variance with her own inestimable code regarding marriage.

  A pain pierced her heart, and an incredible sadness clouded her eyes. Marriage to Jared would be heaven on earth. He was her love, the very air she breathed. But she didn’t want a ‘comfortable’ union, one based on duty or convenience.

  Nor could she bear to think he felt trapped into doing the honourable thing because of the existence of a child.

  Others had maintained a live-in relationship and raised children without the benefit of wedlock. But it went against her principles to condone a lack of total commitment to the child.

  If marriage born out of love wasn’t on the agenda, then it was better to bring a child into the world where clear boundaries were in place. No false misconceptions or misunderstandings from the onset.

  ‘You have?’ Tasha queried with relief, and made a note of an address, satisfied she knew the area reasonably well. ‘Shall we say six-thirty?’

  She disconnected the call. Two agents, each with two apartments immediately available, one of which sounded promising.

  It was after five when she left the office, and she met the first agent outside the designated address.

  She’d been specific with her requirements, and this didn’t come close. It was a walk-up, no lift, no garage facilities. The second apartment was little better.

  Two down and two to go, Tasha concluded wryly as she pulled in to where she was to meet the second agent.

  The location was fine, the apartment building multi-storeyed and modern. It looked promising, she decided as she walked
towards the entrance.

  Half an hour later she’d signed a lease, handed over a cheque, arranged to collect a key the next day and move in on Saturday.

  It was, she assured silently as she entered the stream of traffic heading towards a bridge crossing the river, a sensible decision.

  So why did she feel as if she was about to amputate a limb?

  Life was all about adapting to change, she qualified. This latest change would work out. She’d make sure of it.

  Tasha began making a mental list. Ring a carrier and organise a time for her furniture to be collected from the storage shed and delivered to her new address. She’d need to organise utilities, the phone and electricity, shopping…

  It was a relief to see Jared’s car absent from his parking bay, and she rode the lift, entered the apartment, and paused long enough to make a light meal, eat it, then she discarded the office suit, took a shower, donned a robe, then she settled down at the dining-room table with her laptop.

  Organisational skills were a prerequisite in any professional arena, and Tasha had serious respect for her work and the firm’s clientele. Her salary package was commensurate with her qualifications and experience. Diligent dedication was an innate quality she hoped would eventually elevate her to an associate position. A partnership offer would be the ultimate.

  An achiever had been a commendable tag on her scholastic report cards, a compliment from law lecturers, her legal superiors.

  Becoming a single mother and taking responsibility for the rearing and education of her child shouldn’t alter her goal. A number of successful women managed to rear children and uphold a career…and so would she.

  There were professional nannies, childcare centres, after-school care. Boarding-school was a possibility…but not before the age of twelve. She’d share the child with Jared at alternate weekends, and arrange to split her annual leave to coincide with school holidays.

  It should, Tasha decided, all work out.

  She placed a hand to her waist and rested it there. An instinctive movement as she pondered the sex of her child, its precise size…and made a note to buy a book on pregnancy.

  Meanwhile, she had work, and she turned her attention back to the laptop screen.

  It was there Jared found her, two law books open to one side, a yellow legal pad with filled pages folded over the spine, and her appointment diary. An empty teacup rested strategically on its saucer in the mix.

  ‘Still at it?’

  Tasha lifted her head long enough to spare him a glance, then continued keying in data. ‘Yes.’

  He crossed into the kitchen, took a carton of milk from the refrigerator, caught up a glass, filled it, then drank long and deep.

  ‘Tough day?’ She looked pale, and her eyes seemed too large and much too dark. He stifled the urge to cross to her side, press the save key, shut the laptop, then sweep her into his arms and carry her to their bed.

  Two nights ago he would have done precisely that, stifled her protest with a kiss, removed his clothes, disrobed her, then indulged them both in a leisurely, evocative loving.

  ‘You don’t want to know,’ Tasha conceded, without glancing in his direction. She didn’t need to, for her concentration was shot to hell with his presence. Looking at him would only make things worse.

  ‘You should be resting.’

  Now she did lift her head to spare him a quick look. ‘What century are you in…the nineteenth?’

  He moved to where she sat, aware how the silk robe shaped her breasts, glimpsed the valley between each, the soft cleavage revealed by the loosened lapels, and controlled the urge to stand behind her and loosen the silken folds even further. He knew the feel of her breasts, their firmness, the way the rosy tips peaked and hardened at his slightest touch.

  Instead, he contented himself with working the pins free from the twist of hair she’d secured halfheartedly on top of her head hours before. In serious danger of falling apart, wisps had already escaped and fell in soft curls at her temples, behind her ears, at her nape.

  It was a beguiling picture, and one he was unable to resist.

  ‘Don’t—please,’ she added on a slightly breathless note, hating the vulnerability evident in her voice.

  He let his hands linger at the curve of her nape, then he slowly slid them to curl over each shoulder, cupping them momentarily before letting his hands drop to his sides.

  ‘It’s late, Tasha.’ His voice was quiet, with a hint of gentleness. ‘Pack it in, and come to bed.’

  With him? As if.

  Should she tell him she wanted to work until she was bone weary so she’d fall into such a deep sleep no dreams would penetrate her subconscious mind?

  ‘Five, maybe ten minutes, then I’ll be done.’

  Jared shrugged out of his jacket and hooked it over one shoulder. ‘I’ll take a shower.’

  How long would it take him to come looking for her when she didn’t show? Or would he bother?

  There was no precedent, dammit. In two years they’d never let their differences last through until morning. Hell, apart from the few occasions Jared had been away on business, last night was the first time they’d slept in separate beds.

  Surely he didn’t—couldn’t, think she’d choose to ignore their argument and change her mind about moving out? That all it would take was some time, patience and understanding on his part for her to come to her senses?

  If so, he was in for a rude shock.

  Tasha spared her watch a glance and saw it was after eleven. Enough, she decided, was enough. Tomorrow was another day.

  Minutes later she’d bookmarked her notes, restored the law books to Jared’s library, and was safely ensconced in the spare bedroom.

  If he came looking for her… Well, she’d deal with it, she decided as she plumped the pillow and reached out to snap off the bedside lamp.

  Sleep came quickly. So quickly she was unaware of the door opening, or the shaft of light illuminating part of the room.

  Jared crossed to the bed and stood looking down at her, seeing the soft features in repose, the way her hair curled against one cheek and spilled onto the pillow. One hand lay tucked beneath its edge, and she bore the innocence of a child.

  Something twisted inside his gut. His. His woman. Stubborn, independent, and proud. He wouldn’t lose her. Damned if he would.

  He wanted to slip in beside her and hold her close through the night. To wake her in the early dawn light and have her reach for him.

  For a long time he stood watching her, and then he turned and walked quietly from the room.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JARED left early for the city, preferring quiet, uninterrupted time his chambers provided to go over the transcripts, and direct his line of questioning. He left a note for Tasha propped against the toaster, penned in the black ink he preferred.

  The trial was proving to be a long, arduous one, the witnesses many, and the prosecuting attorney an arch rival who loved to grandstand the jury. A show pony, Jared acknowledged, with few, if any, scruples, walking the fine edge of the law and invoking judicial warnings as he tried the presiding judge’s patience to its limit.

  Yesterday’s session had presented a chink…granted, only small, and probably insignificant. But he wanted the opportunity to peruse every detail.

  The city was quiet at this hour, the traffic minimal, and the sky was a clear azure, the air crisp with the promise of another fine early-summer day. The river resembled mirrored glass, reflecting the tall city towers of steel and glass.

  The traffic lights were mostly in his favour, and he turned in to the private car park beneath his office block, inserted his security-coded card to gain access, then swept down to his allotted parking bay.

  Allowing time for a consult with his client’s solicitor prior to leaving chambers, he had three hours before he needed to gown up and head off to court.

  The lift transported him with electronic speed to a high floor, and he entered the large foyer with its empty
secretarial station. He savoured the silence and the solitude as he crossed to his rooms and unlocked the door.

  From that moment he assumed another persona, giving everything over to the case in hand, its nuances, flaws, the jury’s perception of them, and how he could tailor his queries, his address, to maximum effect.

  Any thoughts relating to his private life were put on hold. And that included Tasha.

  Tonight he would focus on all matters of a personal nature. He had the weekend, and he intended to convince Tasha to remain with him. Dammit, he’d make sure of it.

  Meanwhile, the current brief and his appearance in court held prime importance.

  Tasha cut the connection on her cell-phone, marked off another line on her list, and walked from her office to the reception area to greet her eleven-thirty appointment.

  An hour later she made the third of six private calls, tended to some paperwork, then she took a short lunch-break and completed the remaining calls.

  Tasha left the office early and reached the new apartment minutes ahead of the removalist, who together with his assistant brought in and placed the furniture and variously marked crates.

  The refrigerator hummed reassuringly at the flick of a switch, and she unpacked linen, consigned one set to the washing machine, then set to unpacking crockery, cutlery, pots and pans.

  It was late when she finished, much later than she had anticipated. She was hungry, tired…but satisfied. All that remained for her to do tomorrow was transport all her clothes from Jared’s apartment, then visit the supermarket.

  An insistent peal penetrated, sounding loud in the silence of the room, and Tasha crossed to the table and retrieved her cell-phone from her bag.

  ‘Where in hell are you?’ Jared’s voice held an icy anger she chose to ignore.

  ‘I said not to wait dinner,’ she managed equably, and sensed rather than heard his husky oath.

  ‘Do you have any idea what the time is?’

  She hadn’t thought to look, and her eyes widened as she cast a glance at her watch. Eleven-fifteen.