Having His Babies (Harlequin Presents) Page 6

  It was as she was climbing the grassy hill back to her apartment that she realized a man was standing on the lawn, watching her—Lachlan.

  Her heart started to beat erratically and sheer panic affected her breathing—she hadn’t expected him until tomorrow—but she forced herself to go on climbing the gentle slope until they were face to face.

  They said nothing for an age because it was almost as if they were drinking each other in through their pores. She thought he looked tired but it was a fourteen-hour flight from San Francisco, which would account for it. His tawny hair flopped on his forehead as it always did and he wore jeans, a navy shirt and had a tweed jacket slung over his shoulder. But even tired, with a curious little frown in his eyes, he took her breath away.

  Could he see anything? she wondered with some trepidation as that smoky grey gaze swept over her from head to toe, from the white linen sun hat with an upswept brim to the loose pink shirt she wore over her costume, down the length of her bare legs.

  Then he said, ‘This is a surprise, Clare, but you look wonderful.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She coloured faintly. ‘I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.’

  ‘And I certainly wasn’t expecting to find you playing hookey—I called in at the office to be told you wouldn’t be in until Monday. Have you actually been lying on the beach?’

  ‘Yes,’ she answered ruefully.

  ‘What brought this on?’

  ‘Come in and I’ll make you a cup of tea and tell you,’ she responded.

  He took her hand. ‘There’s something I need more than a cup of tea but you’re right—we’d be better off inside.’

  She swallowed and started to walk beside him.

  Her apartment was deliciously cool and he threw his jacket over a chair, took her hat off for her and tossed it away and took her in his arms with no preamble at all.

  ‘Warm, like a sun-ripened peach, but also salty,’ he teased as he kissed her lightly. ‘Whatever has caused this metamorphosis, I’m all in favour of it. Do you know how long I’ve been thinking of making love to you, Clare? Twenty-three days, four hours and six minutes.’

  She couldn’t help the gurgle of laughter that rose to her lips. ‘I bet you plucked those numbers out of the air!’

  He looked injured, then wicked. ‘Only to the hours and minutes. Which are ticking by and making life difficult for me,’ he added significantly, and put a hand on the top button of her shirt. ‘May I?’

  She tensed and bit her lip.

  He felt it and narrowed his eyes. Then he released her slowly. ‘So,’ he said, barely audibly, ‘things have changed. You’d better tell me, Clare. Is there a new man in your life? Has someone swept you off your feet—and taken over where I left off?’

  A mixture of shock and outrage poured through her. ‘No,’ she said intensely with a proud spark of anger in her eyes. ‘What do you think I am?’

  ‘Changed,’ he said deliberately. ‘You always were beautiful to my eyes but now you’re like a rose that’s opening in all its glory. And you’re taking weekends off, lying on the beach—something’s happened to you, Clare. Is it true love? It surely has to be something cataclysmic because nothing I ever did produced this.’

  She put a hand to her mouth then took it away. ‘In a way you did, Lachlan. I…you see…I’m pregnant.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CLARE saw the flare of sheer shock in his eyes and she closed her own and went to turn away.

  ‘No.’ He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. ‘Clare—how long?’

  ‘Three months,’ she whispered.

  ‘And you expect me not to be surprised? You’ve kept this to yourself for three months—why?’ His fingers dug painfully into her shoulder for a moment.

  ‘I … I didn’t know myself until just over a month ago,’ she stammered.

  ‘How the hell could you not?’

  She swallowed. ‘If you remember, I was on the pill—’

  ‘I remember very clearly discussing contraception with you, and you insisting that you would take responsibility for it,’ he said.

  She set her jaw. ‘Let me explain—I know this has come as an unpleasant shock to you—’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘You didn’t have to but please don’t interrupt!’

  He looked at her sardonically then dropped his hand.

  She took a breath and glanced around at her living room with its very pale grey walls, the deep, comfortable rattan suite with floral pink linen cushions, all her treasured possessions—and she told him as clinically as she could how it had happened.

  ‘I know it was my fault,’ she went on. ‘I was warned but I just—I was so rushed off my feet at the time, I didn’t even stop to think. It was such a quick bout of whatever bug it was and not that serious, or so I thought.’ She spread her hands helplessly. ‘Then I realized, belatedly, that my cycle had gone haywire but I had no other symptoms and—’

  ‘You were doing the work of ten people, anyway,’ he supplied dryly, ‘and once again didn’t have time to stop and think.’

  ‘Lachlan, I take full responsibility for—everything. You don’t have to worry about a thing.’

  He stared at her grimly. ‘You seem to be forgetting one thing, Clare. This is my baby, too.’

  ‘I …’

  But he went on with a frown, ‘Of course, it all falls into place now. No wonder you were suddenly so strange, but why on earth didn’t you tell me as soon as you found out? Which had to be before I went away.’

  ‘I … I wanted to think about it. I was … I was stunned. And I knew it had to change things between us—’

  ‘You’re so right,’ he said, and the first glint of humour since she’d told him lit his eyes. ‘The sooner we get married the better, Clare. This baby has a three-month drop on us already.’

  She put her hands to her face then moved away and sat down shakily. ‘Lachlan, we can’t just get married like that. You said yourself only three weeks ago that there were so many reasons for us to keep things as they were.’

  ‘Clare.’ He sat down opposite her and there was something big and unusually forbidding about him. ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair to hold things against me that I said when I had no idea what was going on?’

  ‘Basic truths don’t alter.’ She laced her fingers together. ‘We neither of us had any thought of marriage or children—’

  ‘You because of your all-important career,’ he pointed out with deadly accuracy.

  She flinched but rallied. ‘How about you?’

  ‘When you’re presented with such an obvious dead end—no, I hadn’t really considered it, Clare,’ he said evenly, ‘but, to be trite but true, circumstances do alter cases. And I’m not, whatever else you may hold against me, one for planting a seed then turning my back on it.’

  She coloured delicately.

  He watched her then said, ‘But tell me how you feel about this pregnancy. Shock? Horror? A disruption of your life?’

  She bit her lip as she wondered how self-centred about her life and career she must have appeared to him. ‘No. I’m daily growing more excited about it. I…’ She put her hand on her stomach. ‘It’s really got me in.’

  He stared at her in silence for a long moment, sitting there in her pink shirt with her legs long and brown and bare, and couldn’t doubt her as her eyes softened, as her whole aura softened and glowed.

  ‘Has it occurred to you to wonder why?’ he said at last.

  ‘Talking of trite but true, my biological clock must have been ticking away without me realizing it.’

  ‘You don’t think it could have anything to do with it being our baby?’

  ‘Lachlan…yes,’ she said quietly, ‘but…’

  ‘Then we have good grounds for providing this baby with both of its parents, wouldn’t you say?’

  She stared at him unhappily. ‘An unplanned pregnancy is not necessarily a good reason for marriage, it can quite often be the opposite. It ca
n force two people together for the sake of a child, when they’re not suited—’

  ‘We’re extremely well-suited in one area,’ he drawled, and his grey eyes were mocking as they roamed over her, leaving her in no doubt that he meant how well-suited they were in bed.

  Clare set her teeth and willed herself not to be affected by the lazy grace and strength of his tall body beneath the navy shirt and jeans, the way his tawny hair fell, his hands, especially his hands and the memories of what they did to her… ‘Perhaps, but—’

  ‘Perhaps?’ he parodied with irony. ‘I know it’s been over three weeks, Clare, but do you remember the last time we made love?’

  ‘Of course.’ She moved restlessly and tried to call on all her composure, her years of training and practice. ‘There’s more to marriage than that, however. As you and Serena must have discovered.’

  Something flickered in his eyes. Then he said evenly, ‘If you’re jealous of her, Clare, there’s no need to be. It’s entirely over and done with.’

  She stared at him, and realized two things—that she was hurt by his first words, and that she was waiting for something, for more of an explanation.

  But he said no more and his silence struck a chill chord in her heart because it signified the core of her dilemma: her lack of a real and true insight into the failure of his first marriage and his disinclination to provide her with one, and also the lack of a real and true insight into the man himself.

  That was why, she realized, she was gripped by the feeling that she’d only ever been allowed to see one side of this man and perhaps would never be allowed to know his heart and soul.

  She also had a strong feeling that the trauma of his first marriage might account for it, or part of it, but the end result was—and it shook her to discover it—that, while she suddenly had no doubt that she was deeply in love with him, she very much doubted and feared his total involvement with her.

  She had to doubt it, she thought despairingly. Because if this hadn’t happened they could have gone on for years, or until the attraction wore off for him; he’d never given her cause to think otherwise.

  She stood up. ‘I think, Lachlan, one of the problems is that I may be better suited to being a single mother.’

  ‘I knew your career would raise its head sooner or later,’ he said dryly. ‘But how do you propose to have a baby and continue to be such a hotshot lawyer at the same time?’

  She steeled herself not to take offence at his words or the little flash of insolence in his eyes. And she told him briefly about Sue Simpson without naming her.

  ‘I see,’ he said at length. ‘You have been busy behind my back, Clare.’

  That got through her defences and she said coldly, ‘Not at all. It was pure fate that I found her sitting on my doorstep. But she was my one real friend at university.’

  ‘Married?’ he queried.

  ‘No—what on earth has that got to do with it?’

  ‘I’m just visualizing you career girls sticking together.’

  Her composure crumbled completely, and she was suddenly so angry, she actually went to slap his face although at the last moment she thought better of it.

  He watched her calmly then stood up leisurely with a faint little smile twisting his lips. ‘Well, we seem to be thoroughly at odds, don’t we, Clare? That’s a pity, you know, because this second trimester of your pregnancy should be the happiest and the easiest. For example, you’ll probably have got over your morning sickness by now—you hid that rather well.’

  ‘So?’ she said dangerously.

  ‘And the chance of a miscarriage is greater in the first three months, so that’s behind you.’

  ‘I know that’

  ‘Then did you know this? While you’re blooming now, it won’t be until the last three months that you’ll be really heavy and uncomfortable and plagued by the desire to urinate frequently, possibly have stretch marks and brown pigment forming on your face. Heartburn can be a problem, swollen ankles, the difficulty of finding not only a comfortable position to sit or sleep, but a baby cartwheeling inside you making it difficult to sleep anyway.’

  Her lips parted and her eyes widened.

  He went on remorselessly, ‘Then there’s the labour to be got through, and the fallacy for some that because breast-feeding is natural it’s easy. More sleepless nights, times when you’re so tired you don’t know what to do with yourself—that’s all in front of you, Clare.’

  ‘You sound like a walking encyclopaedia on the subject.’

  ‘I was the one who used to drive Sean around the property for hours—it was the only way to get him to sleep.’

  She sat down slowly, put her hands to her face, and, to her amazement, started to laugh. Then she said softly, ‘Oh, Lachlan, you make me feel like such a novice, but—’ she sobered and looked up at him ‘—I still can’t just marry you.’

  He hesitated then sat down beside her and took her hand.

  She said urgently, ‘You know what I’m like! And, whether it’s right or wrong, it’s also the way I’m made. The other thing is, I can’t help but know… what you need.’

  He raised an eyebrow at her dryly.

  ‘You need—if you did ever want another wife—you need someone who could really share your life. In my own way, I’m as intimidated by macadamia plantations as Serena may have been—you know what I mean,’ she said as he moved restlessly. ‘I don’t share that almost mystical affinity you have with the land.’

  ‘May does,’ he said after a moment ‘It didn’t stop her from having a career.’

  ‘May was born to it and didn’t have a husband.’

  There was a short, strained silence. Then he said, ‘So what do you suggest we do, Clare?’

  ‘Do?’

  ‘Carry on as before but tell everyone we’ve decided not to many—we don’t see the need for it, maybe?’

  ‘I…’ She bit her lip.

  ‘Or do you have in mind a legal contract awarding me some paternal rights, for example? You know,’ he said lazily, ‘I seem to remember that you were the one who felt morally bound to lecture me on the subject of how parents should act honourably towards their children.’

  She sniffed because she felt like bursting into tears.

  ‘Or had you in mind terminating our relationship entirely?’

  He smiled tigerishly as she swallowed, and went on, ‘I wonder what everyone would say—that I’d ditched you and left you to fend for yourself? You do realize there’s bound to be gossip?’

  ‘If that’s why you’ve asked me to marry you,’ she said incredulously, ‘I—’

  ‘On the other hand it could be your good name on the line,’ he interrupted, and shrugged.

  She frowned bewilderedly. ‘What on earth do you mean?’

  ‘Clare, everyone is going to know whose baby this is. And everyone already knows what a dedicated career woman you are, but even career women have biological clocks—apparently.’ He eyed her ironically.

  ‘A-are you saying they’d think I … used you?’ she stammered.

  ‘In this day and age when women have agendas that very often feature single parenthood, why not?’ he said simply.

  She took an unsteady breath. ‘Is that what you think, Lachlan?’

  ‘I’m tempted to wonder.’

  She leant back dazedly. ‘You’re wrong.’

  ‘Convince me, Clare,’ he said softly but lethally.

  She was terribly tempted to say to him that what had really happened was that she’d fallen in love with the wrong man! But she resisted it because once she admitted that she would have nowhere to hide, no defences for the hurt of knowing that, while he would undoubtedly stand by her and their baby, he might never love her as she loved him.

  Why hadn’t she realized what deep water she was in with Lachlan Hewitt? she wondered. Because she was badly hurt already but, incredibly, she hadn’t seen it coming.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ she said honestly, at last. ‘Other than
—’

  ‘You don’t want to get married.’

  ‘Lachlan—’ she turned to him urgently again and this time she couldn’t prevent the tears in her eyes ‘—this is three lives we’re talking about, four if you count Sean. We can’t afford to rush into anything.’

  ‘I don’t think Sean would be a problem, he likes you. And he hates his soon-to-be stepfather,’ he added significantly.

  ‘So she is…’ Clare trailed off.

  He frowned. ‘You know about Serena’s plans to remarry?’

  ‘I…’ She stopped and sighed. ‘Yes.’

  ‘How?’ he asked.

  She should have told him sooner; she paused to think. ‘Uh…Sean told me. That last day at Rosemont. ’

  ‘Why would he do that?’ he said slowly, and watched her with narrowed eyes.

  She tried to decipher the expression in them and was hit by a horrible thought. ‘You don’t—you don’t think I asked?’ she said incredulously.

  ‘Didn’t you, Clare?’

  ‘No! He brought it up out of the blue!’

  ‘Tell me,’ he invited.

  ‘Oh, hell,’ she said hollowly, ‘it was confidential. It—’

  ‘This is my eight-year-old son we’re talking about, Clare.’ And now his expression was easy to read; in fact it was clearly dangerous.

  Clare rubbed her face agitatedly. ‘He told me that Serena had a new boyfriend with a big house and garden and how she’d asked if he’d go and live with them if he could take Paddy and Flynn.’

  Lachlan swore beneath his breath. ‘Go on.’

  She grimaced. ‘He told me he thought the boyfriend was ghastly but Serena had said he’d be better off with two parents even if one was a step. And…’ she hesitated ‘…that if he had to have a step…he’d rather it was me.’

  There was utter silence as Lachlan stared into the distance with a distinctly murderous expression.

  ‘Did you know this?’ Clare said shakily. ‘That she wants him back? And why does she? I thought it was working out so well the way it was.’