open-mouthed astonishment. She was about to launch into a furious defence of herself when he sucked in a sharp breath and transfixed her with a lethal stare.
‘What I have to know is this,’ he growled, his voice shaking. ‘Is there the remotest chance that your child might be Leo’s?’
Shocked into silence for a moment, she struggled to find her voice. ‘No!’ she cried in horror. ‘How dare you? He loves Ginny. He always has, always will—’
‘You are sure?’ he demanded, his muscles tense with anticipation. ‘Absolutely, totally sure?’
‘I swear on my mother’s memory!’ she said fervently.
Jake’s raised shoulders relaxed and he let out all the air in his lungs as if he’d stored up doubts and uncertainties for a long and stressful time. The lines eased out of his face till he looked like the friendly Jake she knew and liked.
‘Thank you,’ he breathed. ‘Forgive me if I’ve offended you, but I had to ask.’
‘I’m puzzled,’ she said slowly. ‘Why don’t you mind Enzo being the father of my child but dread the thought of it being Leo?’
He frowned and lowered his head. ‘Enzo wouldn’t jeopardise his marriage by putting in a claim to your child,’ he said to his feet. ‘Leo might have done if he’d been the father.’
‘That matters?’
Slowly his head lifted till his veiled eyes met hers. ‘I intend to commit myself to you and your child. I wouldn’t want a legal battle for possession. I’m relieved it’s Enzo who’s the father.’ His normally confident voice sounded shaky. ‘Other than us, only your boss, Mary Smith of Unite, knows the truth. I want it to stay that way. No one must ever discover that I haven’t fathered your child.’
She didn’t reply immediately. Her eyes searched his face while she tried to work out why he should be so anxious. ‘Why not?’
He hesitated. ‘Pride,’ he said after a while. ‘I don’t want to be seen as a cuckolded fool.’
Somehow she felt that that wasn’t the right reason. It was so unlike him to put the opinion of others before what was right. ‘A child should know its biological parents,’ she said gently. ‘Always. My child must be told about its father as soon as he or she can understand—’
‘No!’ he said emphatically, closing the space between them with rapid strides. ‘Because of the unusual circumstances of our marriage, we have to give your child our love and a stable background. Maybe we’ll never tell him or her the truth. Or we might decide it’s appropriate in ten, twelve years or so—’
‘Ten years?’ She looked at him doubtfully. ‘I don’t know, Jake. It’s such a big thing for me to decide now, when I’m muddled and unsettled.’
‘Then I’ll make it easier for you,’ he said flatly. ‘Agree that we postpone any decision to tell your child about Enzo for at least ten years and I will stay with you. Disagree and I leave you—now. So you can damn well think on your feet, Amber!’
She would have done, if her legs hadn’t been giving up on her. It worried her that she might feel this feeble for the next month or so of her pregnancy.
His eyes burned into hers. Against her will she felt a sweep of helpless surrender. It had been like that when Jake had coaxed her into accepting his proposal. She’d been powerless then because her shock at Enzo’s betrayal had left her limp and defenceless. For the first time in her life she hadn’t cared what happened to her, and had been indifferent to the way that Jake had been taking over her life. He was doing so again.
‘I suppose,’ she said, struggling to think rationally, ‘you’re right about making my child feel secure first but—
‘No buts. Promise,’ he insisted. ‘OK. You asked for this. I didn’t want to spell it out, but you have to think of the consequences, Amber! Your child would need to be older than you think to cope with the news that you had an adulterous affair.’
‘Jake!’ she protested.
His eyes flickered at her involuntary gasp of anguish. And suddenly his tone gentled to a soft huskiness which carried a wealth of heart-warming tenderness in it. ‘I’m trying to get you to see what it would feel like, both for you and your child.’ He paused, his eyes full of compassion. ‘Imagine that you yourself discovered that, oh, for instance neither of your parents have any blood ties to you.’
‘Awful!’ she acknowledged fervently.
‘Worse, you heard that your biological father was a liar, a cheat and an adulterer who didn’t think twice about breaking his marriage vows.’
She gave a little shudder of distaste, dreading the moment when her child learnt about its father. ‘I take your point. If that happened to me, I’d go to pieces!’
His eyes flickered with pity. ‘Yes. You might...unless you had a lot of support to cope with the revelation. You’d feel hurt and bewildered.’ He adopted a casual tone, but she couldn’t help noticing that he kept fiddling with his cuffs. That wasn’t like him. Just as she was about to probe his feelings he said with a rather unnatural lightness, ‘And you’d feel shame? Hatred, maybe?’
‘I think I would,’ she admitted.
Jake seemed inordinately relieved. ‘And so would your innocent child. This is why many fostered or adopted children aren’t told of their background,’ he said gently.
‘Perhaps,’ she agreed, surprised at his perception. And she thought of the future—telling her child about Enzo and trying to explain how she’d been stupidly infatuated with a philanderer. It was a horrible image. Jake was right; her child would surely turn from her.
‘Then we’re agreed. Your baby must be accepted as my own, without question,’ he said with an easy smoothness, as if he’d rehearsed those very words.
But by marrying her and taking on her child as his own Jake would have an heir without Cavendish blood. And that wasn’t what he wanted, surely? She struggled to understand and wished that she felt more alert. The answer was all bound up in her child somehow, but she couldn’t for the life of her work it out.
‘You weren’t exactly on the shelf,’ she declared. ‘Given time, you could have found someone you loved.’
‘In my job?’ He lifted his shoulders in a dismissive shrug. ‘I’m always on the move. It doesn’t give any relationship a fighting chance. And of the dozens of women I have met I’ve loved none. I can’t let go, you see. And women want me to. They like emotional commitment. I don’t have it in me. And don’t ask me about my past,’ he said, when she opened her mouth to do just that.
There was a wounded look to his eyes which stopped her from pursuing the mystery. Instead she remained silent, keeping to herself the knowledge that something traumatic in his background had made him determined to protect his emotions.
She remembered his reaction whenever she’d touched on her happy home life and wondered if his parents had been repressive or cold. But he’d spoken of them with love earlier. And Mrs Cavendish had sounded warm and affectionate on the telephone.
It was as she’d thought; it must have been a romance that had gone sour. Surprisingly, that disturbed her.
‘What about it, Amber?’ he asked persuasively. ‘I’d prefer not to disillusion my parents about their grandchild at this time—or about you.’ She winced. His parents would be appalled if they knew the truth. ‘Nor,’ he continued with a winning smile, ‘do we want any family member pronouncing our son or daughter illegitimate and claiming the Cavendish fortune when I die, do we?’
‘Or the Fraser fortune!’ she said wryly.
Jake flashed her a suspicious look then relaxed when he saw that she was mocking her own lack of funds. ‘That’s settled,’ he said decisively. ‘As far as everyone’s concerned,