Having His Babies. Lindsay Armstrong

I think we have to acknowledge that for whatever reason—and there are plenty—and despite the odd bit of dissatisfaction, this is what suits us best. Yes,’ he said as she made a sudden movement beside him, ‘I did suddenly think that I would be lonely without you on this trip. I did, I don’t deny, think, Why the hell does she have to work so damned hard anyway?’

      ‘Go on,’ she said barely audibly.

      He looked at her ironically. ‘My next thought was, I’m sure she’d hate me for thinking along those lines—and I wasn’t wrong, was I, Clare?’

      A week ago he wouldn’t have been, she mused sadly. Now? Now, of course, everything had changed.

      ‘Which is why,’ he said at length when she didn’t answer, ‘I don’t think we should tamper with the order of things as they stand between us, Clare.’

      ‘I...I was going to say—I see,’ she responded as some inner resource came to her rescue. What she really felt like doing was bursting into tears, because the distortions and half truths had established what she’d always feared—that he wouldn’t want to marry her. ‘But I won’t be lawyerly,’ she soldiered on with a false smile. ‘You’re probably right.’