Mistress: At What Price?

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Mistress: At What Price? Page 13

by Anne Oliver


  She breathed a tremulous sigh of partial relief. Off the hook a little longer. And they needed to eat before she knuckled down and told him. ‘I could do with a cheeseburger and fries.’

  His brows rose. ‘You want junk food? You never eat junk food.’

  ‘I do. Just not often.’

  ‘What was that yummy dish I smelled in the kitchen when I came home?’

  ‘I didn’t know you were coming; there’s only enough for one.’

  ‘We could share…’

  ‘We could. But you’d still be hungry. And I haven’t cooked the rice yet. It’ll take—’

  ‘Okay, okay, I get the message. Pull on some clothes and we’ll do take-away.’

  Dane wanted to take their meal and sit by the River Torrens, where it was cooler, and watch the lights reflect on the water. But Mariel didn’t seem keen, so they ate at home on the sofa in front of the TV. She was giving her earlobe a workout and his unease flooded back.

  When he’d finished his meal, and eaten Mariel’s half-finished burger, he stuffed the cardboard containers back into the carry-bag, tossed it on the table. He shifted to a forty-five-degree angle so that he could see her properly. ‘Okay, Mariel, what’s the problem?’

  She bit on her lip, then lifted her chin, took a breath. ‘You’re not going to like this…’

  His stomach bottomed out, but he remained outwardly calm. ‘Try me.’

  She heaved another breath, as if garnering courage. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  His brain took a couple of seconds to process the information. It took another couple to get his tongue to work around the word he’d never imagined associated with their lives. His life. ‘Pregnant.’

  His vision blurred, and the only sound he could hear was the rasp of air as it caught on his tonsils on its way to his rapidly deflating lungs. ‘Pregnant.’ He blinked to clear the haze that he found himself enshrouded in and saw Mariel, pale-faced, eyes too big, too vulnerable, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

  ‘Yes.’ She worried her bottom lip again. ‘I found out yesterday.’

  Rational thought began to surface, along with denial. ‘How is that possible? I thought you were on the Pill? That’s what you told me.’ He heard the accusation in his own voice.

  Déjà vu. Flashback to another woman, another time. Had Mariel planned it? He shook it away immediately.

  ‘I was on the Pill…’ She rubbed her arms as if cold. ‘I was due to start another packet but I never got my period. So I went to see Dr Judy at Stirling to ask her advice.’

  Unable to sit, he pushed up and paced. ‘So when you told me last night that you had a bug, you were lying?’

  ‘I couldn’t tell you that kind of news over the phone. You would not have wanted me to tell you over the phone. Something this important has to be said face to face.’

  He acknowledged that with a stiff-necked nod. ‘So, what are your plans?’

  ‘My plans?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, that’s just great. So it seems when things get too hard you’re a typical irresponsible male after all. This is your baby, too, so it’s our plans. Like it or not, this is about us.’

  ‘You’re missing my intention. I’m giving you the option. It’s your call. But you’ll have my full support whatever you decide.’

  She stared at him. ‘You…you…’ She pushed off the sofa, all white-faced fury, and stood before him, fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides. ‘If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking—’

  ‘You haven’t a clue what I’m thinking,’ he shot back. ‘How could you when I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking myself?’ Why did she have to look at him that way, her eyes brimming with tears and censure? ‘Oh, no… No, Mariel, I didn’t mean…’

  And then it hit him—a bolt from the sky, a tsunami, a super cyclone all rolled into one.

  His baby.

  A part of him.

  Growing inside Mariel.

  Adrenaline spiked through his veins and bled like fire into already tight muscles. His heart pumped so hard he thought he’d burst a valve.

  Seemingly of their own volition his eyes sought and found Mariel’s flat belly. Hidden beneath a lolly-pink mini-skirt…his baby.

  Some insane, primitive part of him wanted to beat his chest and shout it to the ends of the earth. He dragged his eyes away and turned to stare blindly at the night-darkened window, his mind assaulted by a barrage of what-the-hell-do-I-do-now? scenarios.

  He could feel her eyes drilling into his back. She was waiting for more from him, expecting more from him. And she should expect more. ‘I have to think.’ Shoving his hands through his hair, he locked them behind his head as he continued to stare into the night. ‘I need to get my head around this.’

  He heard the shift of fabric and a soft footfall on the polished boards. Something like panic gripped him at the thought that she’d leave without a word and, worse, that he’d allow it.

  ‘Mariel…’ He crossed to her in four quick strides, grabbed her fingers. Her hands felt chilled, the bones fragile. He ran his thumb over them and looked into her over-bright eyes. ‘When I suggested this arrangement I thought it would help you.’

  Mariel saw his pain etched in every furrow, every facial muscle, felt it echo in her heart. She knew he was in shock. That he was still a long way from dealing with the news. But he hadn’t told her what she wanted to hear. We’ll get married. Or even, I won’t leave you or We’ll raise it together. And why would he? They’d never agreed to that. And now he’d be leaving not one person but two people.

  Pressing her lips together, she nodded, unable to speak lest she blubber—and she didn’t want to blubber and reveal how desperately needy she felt right now. How much she wanted him to hold her closer and kiss her and tell her everything was going to be all right.

  But it wasn’t going to be all right. Because no matter how close they were, or how much she loved him, when it came to the important ever-after stuff they were at opposite ends of the spectrum.

  He squeezed her hands once, passed a whispered caress across her lips. ‘Go on to bed. You need to take care of yourself now. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  His kiss was as sweet as ever, and he sounded as sincere as he always did, but a chasm had opened up between them and she knew they’d ever be the same again.

  The following morning Dane left before Mariel was awake. He might have opened the door to check on her, but she didn’t hear him. She tried to focus on work. She’d need some sort of income to maintain her independence. She didn’t have a clue about where she’d live, what Dane would provide—if anything—so she couldn’t make plans.

  You’ll have my full support. His words. But how far did that extend? she wondered. And what had he meant? Financial? Emotional?

  Bringing her pregnancy out in the open with him seemed to have sparked her maternal instinct. She thought of Dane’s mother, who’d left him. Did the woman not realise all she’d missed out on?

  Well, Mariel didn’t intend to miss out on a minute of raising her baby. She’d always dreamed of kids of her own, a man who loved her to share the joy with. But if the father wasn’t going to be around, so be it. She’d still have a little reminder of Dane that she could love for ever.

  Everything was on hold, like suspended animation. She hated it, but she marked time. She had to wait. Maybe tonight. Would he come and tell her he’d decided he wanted to make a go of it?

  But when he came home from the office it was eight o’clock, and she was already in bed, emotionally and physically exhausted. She heard his footsteps hesitate outside her door, then he moved on.

  No. She wouldn’t let herself weep for the man she loved and would walk away from. Nor was she going to wait around for him to make a decision. She had some pride left, and she refused to be a victim again.

  Slipping out of bed, she opened her door. Light from his study cast a strip of light across the polished boards in the passage. Placing one foot in front of the other, she moved to
wards it.

  His phone rang as she was about to enter.

  ‘Huntington.’ Pause. ‘Yes. I meant to get back to you. There’s—’ He rolled his head back and studied the ceiling. ‘Tonight?’ From behind him Mariel saw him rub his temple. ‘Okay.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Twenty minutes. Don’t worry, I’ll be there.’

  A faint creak in the floorboards alerted him to Mariel’s presence. His hand jerked—almost guiltily, she thought—then he disconnected and slipped the phone in his pocket. ‘I thought you were asleep, I didn’t want to wake you.’

  ‘You didn’t wake me. I wanted to talk.’

  ‘I would, but I’m sorry, now’s not a good time. I’ve got an urgent matter I need to deal with.’

  She felt her mouth go dry, felt her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth, but she managed to say, ‘Now? What’s more important than our baby?’

  Dane stilled, and something flickered behind the still gaze. ‘We’ll talk. We will. But it’s business. A client.’

  ‘A client.’

  ‘Don’t do this, Mariel.’ He turned away to shut down his computer, then riffled through an untidy pile of papers. ‘You’ll have to trust me on this.’

  Trust him? The way she’d trusted Luc? He’d had ‘business appointments’, too. She fought back tears.

  He rose and, still folding whatever it was he’d been looking for, walked towards her. He tilted her chin up, gripped it between tense fingers. ‘Do you trust me?’

  She thought of his women, his playboy lifestyle. She remembered their childhood and shared secrets, the last couple of weeks they’d spent together here in his home. Arguing, making love. She wanted to trust him. How she wanted to. He was her baby’s father; nothing could change that fact. And they were bound by it for the rest of their lives.

  ‘Well?’ he demanded. His eyes swirled with some emotion she couldn’t read.

  ‘If we don’t have trust, Dane, we have nothing.’ She couldn’t deny it. She couldn’t deny him the chance to prove it. If she didn’t, there was no future for them at all.

  His shoulders relaxed as some of the tension there eased. ‘Go to bed. Get some sleep. You look like you need it.’ The kiss he laid on her lips was sweet but brief.

  Whether he crept in without a sound or whether she was sleeping—though she was sure she’d not slept a wink—Mariel didn’t hear him come home.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE following day started out as the day from hell and grew worse with every passing hour. Mariel heard the wind pick up soon after dawn, seething through the casuarinas over the road. From her bedroom window she could see that the sky had turned a dull brown, with raised dust obscuring the rising sun.

  Dane left soon after. She waited until she heard his car start, then went downstairs. She tried to eat, but even the thought of putting anything in her stomach made her feel ill. The onset of morning sickness? she wondered.

  The radio’s weather bulletin was dire. Forty-five degrees, with gale force winds. Hills residents were being advised to ensure their bushfire action plans were in place: to leave now, or stay and be prepared to fight if a fire broke out. It was shaping up to be a day reminiscent of Black Saturday, that horrific day Victoria had burned.

  Mid-morning the phone rang. ‘Ah, Mariel,’ the agitated voice said when she picked up. ‘Daniel Huntington here. Is Dane about?’

  ‘He’s not here, Daniel. Have you tried his office or his mobile?’

  ‘He’s not answering either of those numbers.’

  The tone of his voice worried Mariel as she rubbed absently at her empty tummy. ‘Are you all right? Is there something I can help you with?’

  ‘It’s blowing like the devil up here. I don’t like the looks of it, Mariel. Bloody arsonists about. One spark…’

  She closed her eyes and wished she didn’t have to offer, but… ‘Why don’t you come down here for the day?’

  His blunt, ‘I’m not leaving the house,’ worried her more.

  ‘It’s only a house, Daniel. Material things can be replaced. You’re what matters.’

  ‘This is Dane’s house, and I’m not leaving it to burn down.’

  Dane’s house? What did he mean by that? ‘There’s no fire there now, is there?’ Holding the phone in one hand, she clicked on the Internet to see if there were any reports.

  ‘No. But I was just outside, and damned if I can’t smell smoke.’ There was a shuffling sound on the line, then a thud.

  Mariel pressed the phone closer. ‘Are you there, Daniel?’

  ‘I’m here. Just trying to shut…the door. It’s blowing like the devil. In these conditions if a fire catches hold, we’re done for.’

  Mariel chewed on her lip in an agony of indecision. He was in his seventies and alone, and in the danger zone on a major bushfire alert day. He sounded out of breath and out of sorts. She couldn’t leave him there. She could not.

  ‘Listen, Daniel. I’m going to drive up there now and pick you up.’

  ‘No, girlie, I’m not leaving.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said, keeping her voice low and soothing. ‘I’ll come, and we’ll talk when I get there.’

  Another silence, then a sigh that sounded like relief. ‘You’re a good woman, Mariel. I’ll put the kettle on.’

  Mariel disconnected. Great. A joyride to the hills to spend the day from hell with an old man who was as stubborn as his son!

  And that old man was her baby’s grandfather.

  If that wasn’t a good enough reason, she didn’t know what was.

  She tried Dane’s phones before she left, to let him know her plans, but the office was still unattended and his mobile was switched off. She knew he had an early breakfast meeting. No point in bothering him now. She’d call him again when she got there and let him know what was going on.

  Fifteen minutes later she was on the road.

  With a sharp expletive, Dane slammed his foot on the brake. Two elderly women skirted the bonnet, glaring at him as they crossed the driveway outside his office. ‘Sorry, ladies.’ He smiled an apology. At least he thought his lips moved. They felt a little numb. The oldies kept right on glaring.

  ‘If you’d had as little shut-eye as I have over the past couple of nights you’d be sleep-walking, too,’ he muttered.

  He waited till they’d taken their sweet time, then zoomed into his personal parking space, killed the engine and let his head roll back on the headrest. His seven-thirty a.m. meeting with a new client had finished early, which now gave him time to check in at the office before heading out again for another meeting and to upgrade a system east of the city.

  Not far from the freeway, he thought. His conscience pricked at him. Inconvenient thing, conscience. But he’d drive out to see his father afterwards, just to check he was okay on this hellish day. Wouldn’t take long.

  Justin’s car was nowhere to be seen, and their shared PA was on leave for another week, so the office blinds were shut against the heat, the rooms relatively cool and dim when he entered. He sank into the plush chair behind his desk, checked the office phone and mobile for messages. He returned three calls, left a message in answer to another.

  That done, he stuck his feet on his desk and closed his eyes. But he couldn’t find the relief he sought. Mariel. Her name rippled across his mind like cool, clean water. He should have made time for her, but somehow he just hadn’t been able to deal with it. Pain crawled up his chest and into his throat. Worse, he’d let her down when she most needed him.

  ‘Jeez, man, you look like crap.’

  His eyes jerked open at the familiar voice. Justin, wearing a fresh white business shirt and pressed trousers, frowned at him from the doorway. He screwed them shut again. ‘Go away, Jus.’

  ‘No can do. I’m your business partner, mate.’

  Dane could feel his disapproval clear across the room. When he didn’t leave, Dane opened his eyes. ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t tell me you just tried to woo a new client in that sorry excuse for a T-shi
rt.’

  ‘Okay, I won’t tell you.’

  ‘What’s with the excess facial fuzz? And the hair—isn’t it about time for a trim? A little professional—’

  ‘If I need someone to nag me I’ll get a wife,’ he snarled. He picked up a rubber band, stretched it till it broke and snapped against his fingers. He welcomed its sting.

  Justin walked right into the room, rested one hip on the corner of Dane’s desk. ‘Does Mariel realise what she’s let herself in for?’

  ‘If she doesn’t like the arrangement she’s free to leave. In fact I’m expecting the kiss-off any time now. I’ll be sure to let you know when it happens, so you won’t worry about her.’ He snatched up another rubber band, aimed it at the trophy on top of his filing cabinet and fired. ‘Probably be the best decision she ever made.’

  ‘Blimey, Dane.’

  Dane glanced at his friend, then had to turn away from the accusation he read in his eyes. ‘You know me. Commitment was never my strong suit.’

  ‘A blind fool can see that you love her. She only has to walk into the room and that steel in your eyes melts. What the hell happened?’

  A baby happened.

  Nerves jittered. His heart tightened. ‘Fact is, I…’ he began, but his vocal cords wouldn’t work properly. ‘Fact is, we…’ He swallowed over the lump in his throat.

  Suddenly everything fell into place. This baby was an innocent in all this. Dane knew how it was to grow up without a father’s love, without any parental affection. He’d learned from it, was stronger because of it. But did he want the same for his own child? Hell, no. He’d been given a chance. A real chance. And he’d been given it with Mariel. His best friend.

  The woman he loved more than anything or anyone.

  Was he just going to let the only genuine woman who had ever entered his life, the only woman who could blow away the storm clouds he saw in his eyes every time he looked in a mirror, walk away? Could he let the child they’d created together grow up without knowing its father? Without a father’s love?

 

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