The Baby Surprise: Juggling Briefcase & Baby. Barbara McMahon

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      ‘Everyone knows that I’m never going to get married,’ she said, unable to explain just how uneasy the very idea made her.

      ‘People change.’

      ‘Not me!’

      ‘No,’ Lex agreed with a sardonic look, ‘I know not you. Fortunately, Willie doesn’t have any idea how stubborn you are.’

      ‘It’s not about stubbornness,’ said Romy.

      ‘Isn’t it?’

      ‘No. It’s about being realistic, not stubborn.’

      Lex shook his head. ‘No, it’s not. It’s about being afraid. You’re afraid of marriage because you think it might end up badly like your parents’ marriage did, and you’ll be hurt again. Fair enough. I understand that. But I don’t quite see what the problem is here. We’re not getting married. It’s just a pretence.’

      ‘I know.’ Romy sighed, and twisted her bracelets fretfully. ‘I know you’re right. I just wish Willie wasn’t quite so thrilled. I don’t like lying to him.’

      ‘It’s a bit late to worry about that now,’ said Lex, exasperated. ‘This was all your idea in the first place!’ His voice had risen, until Romy pointed at Freya’s cot and laid a finger over her lips. ‘And you were the one who started on the “darlings”,’ he added more quietly.

      ‘I thought it would make us look more convincing,’ she said. ‘Little did I know that, once you got going, you would turn in an Oscar-winning performance! You nearly had me convinced!’

      ‘Look, what’s the problem?’ Lex had started on his buttons now. ‘We’ve done it. Willie’s agreed to the sale.’

      As promised, they had discussed it over an excellent dinner, and come to what Willie called a ‘gentleman’s agreement’. The lawyers would draw up a detailed contract. He and Willie would sign it and the deal would be done.

      ‘We’ve done exactly what we set out to do,’ he reminded Romy. ‘We can go home tomorrow, and no one else will ever know that you once pretended for five seconds that you would consider the possibility of marriage.’

      Romy wished he would stop unbuttoning his shirt. It was distracting her. Averting her eyes, she began to pull off her bangles one by one.

      ‘What if Willie finds out that we’re not really engaged?’

      ‘You said yourself he never leaves Duncardie now,’ Lex pointed out. ‘And we’ve already told him why we’re keeping it a secret for now.’

      ‘I suppose so.’

      Romy wasn’t sure why the whole question had made her so twitchy. It was something to do with sitting next to Lex all evening. With the feel of his fingers warm around hers, his palm strong and steady on her back, his thigh beneath her hand.

      She had been desperately aware of him. Ever since she had walked into the bathroom and seen him looking harassed at the prospect of changing Freya’s nappy there had been a persistent thumping low in her belly. A jittery, fluttery, frantic feeling just beneath her skin that was part nervousness, part excitement.

      How was it possible to be furious with someone and still want to wrap yourself round him? To kiss your way along his jaw and press against the lovely lean hardness of his body?

      At least the argument about the stupid marriage thing had got them over the awkwardness of being alone. Having divested herself of bracelets and earrings, Romy stomped into the bathroom to get undressed. Lex might be happy to start stripping off in front of her, but she didn’t have his cool.

      She didn’t possess a nightdress. She hadn’t been expecting to share a room, so all she had with her was an old sarong. Romy eyed it dubiously as she wrapped it tightly under her arms. It was hardly the most seductive of garments, but she couldn’t help wishing it were a little more substantial.

      If she had had time to think about her packing, she might have considered that a castle in the Highlands in the middle of winter might not be the most appropriate place for a sarong, and then she would have been prepared with a sensible winceyette nightie that would have kept her warm and, more importantly under the current circumstances, covered. Not that Lex had shown any sign of preparing to pounce, but, still, it was unnerving to contemplate the prospect of sharing a bed with nothing but a skimpy strip of material for modesty.

      Well, it would just have to do.

      When Romy went back into the bedroom, holding her clothes protectively in front of her, Lex was peering in the wardrobe. He had stripped off his shirt, but still wore his trousers, to her relief. The sight of his broad, bare, smooth back was enough to dry her mouth and set her heart thudding against her ribs as it was. God only knew what state she’d be in if he’d taken off any more clothes!

      ‘What are you doing?’

      ‘Looking for an extra blanket,’ he said without turning round. ‘I’ll sleep on the floor.’

      ‘Lex, it’s snowing outside! You’ll freeze to death, even on the carpet.’ Romy dumped her clothes on top of her overnight case and checked that Freya was still sound asleep. Having been stomach-twistingly anxious about the prospect of sleeping with him, she was now perversely determined to prove to Lex that it didn’t bother her at all.

      ‘It’s an absolutely huge bed—and it’s not as if we’ve never shared a bed before, is it?’

      ‘No,’ he said, turning to face her, ‘but as you said before, that was twelve years ago and we’re different people now.’

      ‘We’re twelve years older and twelve years more grown up,’ said Romy firmly, hoping to convince herself as much as Lex. ‘We’ve got over all that.’ She saw Lex’s brows rise and flushed. ‘You know what I mean. And even if we hadn’t, how could I possibly sleep knowing that you were on the floor? There’s room for ten in there,’ she said, gesturing at the bed.

      An exaggeration, perhaps, but it was certainly a very large bed. They would easily be able to avoid rolling into each other.

      She hoped.

      CHAPTER SIX

      PULLING back the heavy cover, Romy climbed up into the bed and made a big show of making herself comfortable. ‘It’s up to you, of course,’ she said, ‘but if you’re worried about me making a fuss about sharing a bed, then don’t. I really don’t see why it needs to be a big deal.’

      ‘Well, if you’re sure…’

      Lex splashed water over his face and brushed his teeth. He knew Romy was right. It was only sensible. The floor would be uncomfortable, not to mention cold, and there was no convenient sofa.

      She clearly wasn’t bothered at the prospect, so he could hardly say that it bothered him. Romy might think that there was room for ten in the bed, but Lex was pretty sure that it wouldn’t feel like that when he was lying beside her. It wouldn’t take much to roll over and find himself next to her, and then what would happen? How would he be able to stop himself reaching for her?

      No big deal, she thought.

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