The Package Deal: Nine Months to Change His Life / From Neighbours...to Newlyweds? / The Bonus Mum. Jennifer Greene
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      He’d made her feel loved.

      But he wasn’t here now.

      She’d slept, at last, cocooned in the strength and heat of his body. She’d slept thinking everything was right in her world. What could possibly be wrong?

      She’d slept thinking she was being held by Ben and he’d never let her go.

      She stirred, tentatively, like a caterpillar nervous of emerging from the safety of its dreamlike cocoon.

      The clock on her bedside table said twelve.

      Twelve? She’d slept how long? No wonder Ben had left her.

      He’d left her.

      Hey, she was still in his bed. Possession’s nine tenths of the law, she decided, and stretched like a languorous cat.

      Cat, caterpillar, whatever. She surely wasn’t herself.

      There was a note on his pillow.

      A Dear John letter? She almost smiled. She was playing make-believe in her head. Scenario after scenario. All of them included Ben.

      The note, however, was straightforward. Not a lot of room for fantasy here.

      I need to go into work. I left loose ends yesterday and they’re getting strident. Sleep as long as you want. It’s Saturday, no cleaners come near the place so you have the apartment to yourself. I’ll be home late but tomorrow is yours. Think of what you’d like to do with it.

      Ben.

      And then a postscript.

      Last night was amazing. Please make yourself at home in my bed.

      There was more stuff to think about.

      She was interrupting his life, she thought. She really had pulled him out of his world yesterday. He’d need to pull it back together.

      And then come back to her?

      Just for tomorrow.

      ‘But if that’s all I can have, then that has to be enough,’ she told herself. ‘So think about it.’

      Food first. What had happened to last night’s toast? Who could remember? But she’d seen juice in the fridge, and croissants. And then...the bath in Ben’s bathroom was big enough to hold a small whale.

      ‘Which is what I’ll be in six months...

      ‘Don’t think about it. Don’t think about anything but tomorrow,’ she said severely. ‘Or maybe not even tomorrow. Let’s just concentrate on right now.’

      * * *

      The office was chaos. One day out and the sky had fallen. Still, it had been worth it, he decided, making one apologetic phone call after another, trying to draw together the threads of the deal he’d abandoned the day before.

      Mary was worth it.

      She was with him all day, her image, the memory of her body against his, the warmth of her smile, the taste of her tears.

      He was getting soft in his old age. He’d vowed never to feel this way about a woman.

      About anyone.

      He didn’t want to feel responsible for anyone but somehow it had happened. Ready or not, he was responsible for Mary. The mother of his child.

      His woman?

      He wanted to phone Jake.

      Why? To tell him he’d met someone? Jake’s attitude to women was the same as his. His brother had made one foray into marriage and it’d turned into a disaster. The woman had needed far more than Jake would—or could—give.

      The Logan boys weren’t the marrying kind.

      But Mary...

      No. He would not get emotionally involved.

      Who was he kidding? He already was.

      Which meant he had to help her, he thought as the long day wore on, as the deal finally reached its drawn-out conclusion, which meant the financial markets could relax for another week.

      He thought of what the lawyer back in New Zealand had told him. ‘She really is alone.’

      If she was alone and in trouble...with his baby... There had to be a solution.

      Finally at nine o’clock he signed the last document, left it on his secretary’s desk and prepared to leave. But first one phone call.

      Mathew Arden. Literary agent for some of the biggest names in the world.

      ‘Well,’ he said, as Mathew answered the phone. ‘Am I right?’

      * * *

      She walked her legs off. She strolled down Fifth Avenue, she checked out Tiffany & Co., was awed by the jewellery and chuckled as the salespeople were lovely to her, even though they must know she could hardly afford to look at their wares.

      She took the subway to Soho, just so she could say she’d been there, and spent time in its jumble of eclectic shops. She bought a pair of porcelain parrots for her next-door neighbour who was looking after Heinz.

      She bought a truly awesome diamanté collar for Heinz. He’d show up every dog in the North Island.

      She took the Staten Island ferry and checked out the Statue of Liberty from close quarters.

      ‘You’re just as beautiful as the pictures,’ she told her ladyship, and felt immeasurably pleased.

      She ended up on Broadway and got a cheap ticket to see the last half of a musical she’d only ever seen on film.

      She bought herself a hamburger, headed back on the subway to Ben’s apartment—and was weirdly disappointed when he wasn’t home.

      She’d sort of wanted him to be impressed that she hadn’t hung around all day waiting for him, but maybe she’d done too much trying to prove it. Her feet hurt.

      She ran a bath and soaked, all the time waiting for his key in the lock.

      ‘Just like I’m the little woman,’ she told herself. ‘Waiting for my man to come home.’

      She let herself imagine it, just for a moment. If she and Ben were to take this further...

      This’d be her life.

      ‘Um, no,’ she said, reaching out for a gorgeous-looking bottle of bath salts. Sprinkling it in. Lying back to soak some more. ‘You know you never want to commit to some guy who’ll turn out to be just like Dad. This is fantasy and nothing more.’

      * * *

      It was after ten when СКАЧАТЬ