those people who ‘stayed together because of the baby’ and she didn’t want to be one of them!
His jaw tightened. ‘What are the odds?’
Confused by the abrupt question, she shook her head.
‘Of you conceiving.’
‘Oh.’ She flushed self-consciously and did a quick mental calculation and swallowed. ‘Pretty high,’ she admitted. ‘Why is this happening?’ She pressed her face with her hands and released a muffled wail. ‘I can’t have a baby!’
‘Calm down.’ He sat down on the bed and brought her hands together, covering them with his. ‘I know you don’t want children but—’
‘Who said I didn’t want children?’ she flared.
‘You did.’
‘Not my own—there are so many children out there who need homes. I’m going to adopt.’
He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, wondering if he could feel any more of a total bastard.
‘What? What have I said now?’
He shook his head.
‘So what now? You’re the one who said he was good at thinking on his feet.’
The slow dangerous smile that split his lean face did not lessen the tension that drew the skin taut across his high cheekbones. ‘I am thinking, but you are distracting me.’
She followed the direction of his gaze and pulled the quilt up over her breasts, before angling a hot-cheeked look of accusation at his face. ‘You’re thinking about sex at a time like this?’
‘I can multitask,’ he promised her. ‘How does this work for you? We cut the honeymoon a bit short and go straight back to Mandeville, at least until we know for sure one way or the other. We’ll need to consult with an obstetrician. There are probably a few things you should and shouldn’t be doing.’
‘Stop it. I am not some sort of...incubator!’ A short while ago she had been a desirable woman he had wanted to make love to; now she was what...a mother?
A mother... A shiver of reaction worked its way through Mari’s body as the words echoed in her head.
At least now she knew the answer to one of the questions she had been asking herself on and off virtually all her life. While she still didn’t know what made any mother abandon her child, she did know that she never could.
Facing the slim possibility there might be a baby, Mari knew that nothing in the world would make her give it up. She knew, but what about Seb? Would he ask her to? Would he assume she’d have a termination?
‘Don’t be ridiculous! Look, I didn’t plan on having a family now either, but—ʼ
She wanted to cry, but instead she tuned him out. It was ironic really; she had guarded her heart so well all those years, and the first time she let down her guard... God, she had terrible taste in men. At least she hadn’t fallen for him.
You keep on telling yourself that, Mari.
‘What happens if I am pregnant? What, as a matter of interest, is your grand plan? I’m sure you’ve got one.’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’
She tensed. ‘Not to me.’
‘We stay married.’ He angled a searching look at her face. ‘You look surprised. What did you think I was going to say?’
She shook her head. ‘What about love?’
‘We are not talking song titles here, Mari. We are talking about giving our child, should there be one, a secure upbringing.’
‘There might not be a child,’ she reminded him. The addition was for her own benefit. ‘Probably won’t be.’
He nodded and looked at her. ‘But until we know for sure... Mandeville?’
Reluctantly she nodded.
THE MOMENT THE private jet landed, Mari’s phone began to ping. She fished it out and saw there were a dozen missed calls and twice that many texts, all from her brother.
She scrolled through a couple and found they were all much the same.
Where the hell are you? Come and rescue me, I think I’m dying, the doctors are quacks.
Her finger was poised above Dial when she paused.
Seb was a lying monster, but the law of averages dictated that even lying monsters were right sometimes. He had predicted that Mark would react this way, and she was conditioned to respond as she always did.
Was it time to break the cycle, not just for her but for Mark?
Very slowly she closed the phone and dropped it back into her bag. She knew that Seb was watching her but she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she had followed his advice.
They had hardly said a word since they left Spain. Once or twice Seb had tried to initiate a conversation, but she had cut him off.
On the way across to the waiting limo she stopped and looked up at him. Despite everything her insides quivered. He looked so incredible.
‘I’m sorry I’ve been sulking.’ Actually she had been punishing him for not being in love with her, which, when you thought about it, was pretty pointless. She should be grateful he wasn’t pretending.
Seb tilted back his head and dug his hands into the pockets of his well-cut trousers, a smile chasing like a shadow across his sombre features.
‘Had you? I hadn’t noticed. I’m probably overreacting,’ he admitted in return, ‘but if we’d stayed in Spain my grandmother would have given us no privacy.’ Which had been part of the reason he had chosen to take her there.
The idea that his grandmother’s presence would have made it easier to keep her at arm’s length, keep his hands off her, seemed frankly laughable now. He could see now that he’d been in denial about the strength of his attraction to her. Logically, taking her to his bed should have diminished that hunger, but if anything it had grown during the short time they had been together.
‘If there is a child and that remains a massive if, there will be things we need to discuss without ears at doors. You’ll like Mandeville. It’s a great place for a child to grow up—there’s plenty of room.’
The words came back to Mari as she got her first glimpse of the white Palladian mansion with its rows and rows of perfectly symmetrical windows. She snatched an awed breath. Plenty of room? It was the size of a city!
‘Ever so humble, but home.’
He covered her hand with his; for a moment he thought she was going to leave it there, and then she didn’t. His jaw clenched; the rejection, a small thing, had a sting that was out of proportion to its size.
Mari didn’t look at him, just stared straight ahead as she nursed her hand in her lap. ‘This place is pretty daunting, the idea of servants and—’
‘You’ll be fine. I actually think you could cope with anything, and it is big, but that could work well. You can still have your privacy.’
‘So you won’t be here? No work, obviously...but when you say space, does that mean we won’t be sharing a room?’ She closed her eyes and thought, Did I say that out loud?
‘Mari Jones, the first time I saw you I wanted you.’
Mari opened her eyes.
‘And I still do,’ said the man who was famed for playing it cool. ‘We will be sharing a bed.’
He