by Anne Mather
She gave a twisted little smile.
With all the rush of wedding preparations they’d had precious little time by themselves and she couldn’t help wondering if he’d planned it that way to make it easier on himself. As for herself, she had ached for him relentlessly, her body tingling with awareness whenever his dark as night eyes rested on her.
Now, with a day to go before they were officially married, she could barely contain her nervous anticipation. Her legs felt weak and shaky whenever he smiled at her, the slightest brush of his hand against hers stirring her into a frenzy of clawing need.
‘What do you think, Ashleigh?’ Jake asked as he strode towards her with Lachlan’s small hand tucked in his. ‘Do you think it’ll do?’
She smiled at the pure joy on Lachlan’s grubby face as he gazed up at his father. Her son had blossomed in a matter of days as he’d soaked up the presence of Jake. He had clung to him during every waking hour as if frightened he might suddenly disappear. It had made Ashleigh’s heart swell to witness the sheer devotion on his little face and she knew that no matter what happened in her relationship with Jake in the future, Lachlan would always want to be in contact with his father and she would do nothing to come between them.
‘It looks wonderful,’ she said.
Jake helped her to her feet, his work-roughened palm sending a riot of sensations through her fingers to the centre of her being as his eyes meshed with hers.
‘This time tomorrow,’ he said on the tail-end of an expelled breath.
She didn’t trust herself to answer without betraying herself.
Jake’s eyes left hers to look at the house, his small sigh of approval speaking volumes. ‘It looks like a real home now, doesn’t it?’
Ashleigh followed the line of his gaze. The house had been painted inside and out, the threadbare blinds replaced with the soft drape of curtains and the floors polished, with new rugs laid out here and there for comfort and cosiness. The furniture was all modern and comfortable, all except for one small writing desk that Jake wanted to keep because it had been his mother’s. The rest of the antiques had gone along with the outdated appliances in the kitchen; it was now newly appointed and the bathrooms beautifully refurbished as well.
The front and back gardens had been tidied, Jake doing a lot of the physical labour himself with Lachlan faithfully by his side.
‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘It looks like a real home.’
‘Can I play with my cars now, Daddy?’ Lachlan asked, tugging on Jake’s hand.
‘Sure,’ Jake said, ruffling his hair. ‘Thanks for helping me. I couldn’t have done that last bit without you.’
Lachlan’s proud grin threatened to split his face in two. ‘I love you, Daddy.’ He hugged the long legs in front of him. ‘I love you this much!’ He squeezed as hard as he could, the sound of his childish little grunt of exertion making tears spring to Ashleigh’s eyes.
She blinked them back as she watched Jake bend down to his son’s level, his voice gruff with emotion. ‘I love you, too, mate. More than I can say.’ His eyes shifted slightly to meet Ashleigh’s over the top of their son’s dark head. ‘Sometimes words are just not enough.’
Lachlan scampered off but Ashleigh hardly noticed. She’d never heard Jake say those three little words to anyone before, not to her certainly, and not even to Lachlan until now, even though Lachlan had said it to him many times over the last four weeks.
She ran her tongue over her dry lips as Jake straightened to his full height, his body so close to hers that she could feel the heat of it against her too sensitive skin.
He gave her a small rueful smile. ‘I promised myself a long time ago that I’d never say those words again.’
‘Why?’ Her voice came out soft as a whisper.
There was a small but intense silence as his eyes held hers.
‘Remember I told you about my dog?’
She nodded.
‘I really loved that dog,’ he said after another little pause. ‘But as soon as I said those words to her my father heard me and got rid of her.’
‘Oh, Jake…’ She bit her lip to stop it from trembling.
He took something out of his pocket and silently handed it to her.
She looked down at the decayed strip of red-coloured leather lying across her hand, the small silver buckle jangling against something metal attached to it. She turned the tiny name tag over to see the name Patch engraved there.
‘He didn’t send her to the country after all,’ Jake said. ‘He killed her and buried her in the garden. I found her body, or at least what was left of it, and her collar a few days ago.’
Ashleigh lifted her gaze to his, tears rolling down her cheeks as she saw the raw emotion etched on his face.
‘Jake…’
‘Shh.’ He pressed a finger against her lips to stop her speaking. ‘Let me get this out while I still can.’ He took a deep breath and let the words tumble out at last. ‘I love you. I guess I’ve wanted to tell you that from the first moment I met you but I was too cowardly to do so. Instead, I hurt you immeasurably, wrecking my own life in the process, robbing myself of the precious early years of my son’s life. Can you ever forgive me for the pain I’ve caused you?’
She was openly blubbering by now but there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it. ‘There’s nothing to forgive…I love you…I’ve loved you for so long…I…I…’
Jake crushed her to him, his face buried in the fragrant cloud of her hair. ‘I don’t deserve you…I don’t deserve Lachlan either.You’re both so incredibly beautiful…I feel like I’m going to somehow spoil your life now that I am in it again.’
‘No!’ Ashleigh grasped at him with both hands, holding his head so his eyes were locked on hers. ‘Don’t ever think that. I have spent four and a half of the unhappiest years of my life without you. I don’t think I would survive another day if you were to leave me now. You are the most wonderful person. I know that. I know it in my heart. You are nothing like your father. Look at the way Lachlan loves you; how can you doubt yourself? I certainly don’t. I know who you are, Jake. You might bear your father’s name but you don’t have anything else of him inside you. I just know it.’
His dark eyes were bright with moisture as he looked down at her. ‘I didn’t realise loving someone could be so painful,’ he said. ‘When I saw you at the bar that night I could barely breathe. I was so determined that I could handle seeing you again but one glimpse of you turned me inside out with longing.’
‘Oh, Jake…’She looked up at him with shining eyes. ‘What a silly pair of fools we were. I was feeling exactly the same way! I had to stop myself reaching out to touch you to make sure you were really back in my life after all that time. I loved you so much and was so scared you’d see it and make fun of me.’
His eyes grew very dark and his voice husky and deep with emotion. ‘Promise me you’ll keep telling me you love me, Ashleigh. I’m not sure if my mother ever told me because I was so young when she died, but you’re the first person I can remember ever saying those three little words. You have no idea how wonderful they make me feel.’
‘I promise.’
He brushed the crystal tears spilling from her eyes with a gentle finger. ‘I love you.’
‘I know…I can hardly believe it’s true…’
‘You’d better believe it because I’m going to say it about ten times a day to make up for all the times I should have said it in the past.’
‘Only ten times a day?’ She gave him a little teasing smile. ‘What else are you going to do with your time?’
His eyes glittered as they held hers. ‘You know all those kitchen benches that were recently fitted inside?’
She gave a little nod as her stomach flipped over itself in anticipation. ‘I did wonder why you wanted such a lot of bench space. Have you suddenly developed an intense passion for cooking?’
He gave her a bone-melting look and brought her even closer. ‘I’m not much of a cook b
ut I’m sure between the two of us we’ll think of something to do with all that space. Don’t you agree?’
Ashleigh just smiled.
EPILOGUE
Eight months later…
ASHLEIGH was in one of her nesting moods again. Ever since she’d found out she was pregnant she’d been fussing about the house, rearranging things to suit her ever changing whims; now with only a month to go she was virtually unstoppable.
Jake smiled fondly as she instructed him to shift yet another piece of furniture, her swollen belly brushing against him as she moved past him.
He still found it hard to believe he was married with a son and a little daughter on the way. His life had changed in so many ways but each one was for the better. His bitterness about the past had gradually faded to a far off place which he rarely visited now. Ashleigh’s love had healed him just as surely as his son’s devotion, which still brought a clogging lump to his throat every time he looked into those dark eyes that so resembled his own.
‘No…I think it looks better back over there,’ Ashleigh said, turning around to look at him. ‘What do you think, darling?’
His eyes ran over her, lingering for a moment of the full curve of her breasts before meshing with her blue gaze. ‘If I told you what I was thinking right now you’d probably blush to the very roots of your hair.’
She smiled one of her cat-that-swallowed-the-canary smiles. ‘What exactly are you thinking?’
He gently backed her up against the writing desk, his hand going to her belly, his open palm feeling for the movement of his child. ‘That you are the sexiest mother I’ve ever seen and if it wasn’t for Ellie and Mia bringing Lachlan back any minute now I would have my wicked way with you.’
Ashleigh felt her legs weaken and grasped at the writing desk behind her to steady herself. The fragile timber gave a sudden creak and part of the front panelling of the top drawer came away in her hand.
‘Oh, no!’
‘Did you hurt yourself?’ Jake’s tone was full of concern as he steadied her.
She shook her head, turning to look at the damage she’d done to his mother’s desk.
‘No, but—’ She stopped as she stared at the small compartment that had been hidden behind the panelling she’d inadvertently removed. In the tiny thin space was an envelope.
She took it out, turning it over in her hands, her eyes briefly scanning the feminine writing and the name written there before she handed it to Jake.
‘I think it’s a letter of your mother’s,’ she said. ‘It’s addressed to someone in New Zealand. She mustn’t have been able to post it before she died…’
Jake opened the envelope and read through the pages one by one, his dark eyes absorbing each and every word, the only sound in the room the soft rustle of paper that hadn’t seen the light of day in close to thirty years.
‘What does it say?’ Ashleigh asked softly as she saw the sheen of tears begin to film over his eyes.
Jake drew in a deep breath and looked at her. ‘You were right, Ashleigh. You knew it all along.’
‘Kn-knew what?’ Her voice wobbled along with Jake’s chin as she watched him do his best to control his emotion. ‘W-what did I know?’
‘This is a letter to my father,’ he said, wiping a hand across his eyes. ‘My real father.’
‘You mean…?’
‘Harold Marriott was infertile.’ He looked down at the words he’d just read as if to make sure they hadn’t suddenly disappeared. ‘He had testicular cancer as a young man and after the treatment was unable to father a child.’
‘So you’re not…’ She couldn’t get the words past the sudden lump in her throat.
‘My mother was five months pregnant when she married him,’ he said. ‘She hadn’t told my real father of my existence because he was already married, but when she knew she was dying she decided to write to him…but, probably due to her sudden decline in health, the letter was never sent.’
‘Oh, Jake…’
Jake pulled her to him and hugged her tightly, his head buried into her neck. ‘You were right, Ashleigh. You were right all along. I am not my father’s son.’
Ashleigh looked up at him, her eyes brimming over. ‘I would still love you even if you were his son. I’m happy for you that you’re not but it makes absolutely no difference to me. I love you and I always will, no matter what.’
No matter what. Jake breathed the words deep into his soul, whereAshleigh’s love had already worked a miracle of its own.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
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Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House,
18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
BABY OUT OF THE BLUE
© Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l 2013
The Greek Tycoon’s Pregnant Wife © Anne Mather 2013
Forgotten Mistress, Secret Love-Child © Annie West 2013
The Secret Baby Bargain © Melanie Milburne 2013
eISBN: 978-1-472-01598-3
