Summer At Villa Rosa Collection. Kate Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ now, with only their baby binding them together as he or she reached all those precious milestones. First steps, first words, first day at school.

      She was nearly twenty-five, too old to fool herself with teenage dreams. She had to live with reality, and the reality was that Cleve was still in love with his dead wife. That her son or daughter would be a substitute for the baby Rachel had been carrying when she died.

      That wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare.

      She stirred. ‘You are right about one thing. This—’ she lifted a hand to indicate the house, the garden ‘—this was running away. You know how it is when people work together. You throw up once and you’ve got a tummy bug. Twice and they’re looking at the calendar, trying to remember who they’ve seen you with.’ She drew in a slow steadying breath and turned to look at him. ‘I haven’t told anyone about the baby because I wanted you to hear the news from me rather than overhear some nudge-nudge, wink-wink speculation in the mess about who the lucky man might be.’

      ‘Because I’d know.’

      She tilted her head in acknowledgement. ‘What did Lucy say?’

      ‘Nothing... You know Lucy, she’s as tight-lipped as a clam. It was just the way she said that it bothered the punters when the pilot threw up in the sick bag. I didn’t pick up on it because I assumed your “bug” was just an excuse to get away for a while. Knew it was once I’d opened your letter. My mistake.’

      ‘I really wasn’t fit to fly. If I’d told her I was leaving she’d have wanted to know all the whys and wherefores.’ She lifted a hand in a helpless gesture. ‘She’s not someone who takes “no comment” for an answer.’

      ‘I don’t think she would have asked because she already knew. It seems pretty clear now that she was dropping a heavy hint and she wouldn’t have done that unless she was certain I’m the father.’

      ‘The fact that you immediately took off will confirm it.’

      ‘Undoubtedly, but she’ll keep her thoughts to herself.’ He used the thumb of his free hand to wipe away the moisture from beneath her eyes, cradled her cheek, looked into her eyes. ‘We’ve been friends for a long time, Miranda. We’ll be okay.’

      He was saying all the right things, everything expected of a decent man, everything she’d known he’d say, and she wanted to believe him with all her heart. But her heart knew that being ‘okay’ with Cleve Finch was never going to be enough. Knowing that she would never light up his life, that when he looked at her he would be thinking of Rachel and the baby that never had a chance...

      Resisting the temptation to lean into his hand, the arm waiting to go around her, she retrieved her hand and turned away.

      ‘A baby is not a good reason to get married, Cleve.’

      ‘It’s not a bad one. It used to be mandatory.’

      ‘Thankfully things have moved on. I doubt Dad will stick a shotgun in your back.’

      ‘I’m sure he won’t.’ He sounded unexpectedly bitter and without thinking she put her hand on his, provoking a shadow of a smile. ‘Is there any chance that he might put one in yours?’

      ‘What would be the point when we’d both know that he’d never pull the trigger?’ She squeezed his hand briefly. ‘I’ll be okay, Cleve.’

      ‘Of course you will. You’re an organised and capable woman but, even with all the support in the world, life as a one-parent family is no joke. Your sisters lead busy lives. Your parents are finally letting go of the reins after a tough battle to bring the business back from the brink after your grandfather’s death, turn it into the success it’s become. They deserve time to enjoy their freedom.’

      ‘You think I’m being selfish?’

      ‘Not at all. I just think you need a reality check.’ He placed his other hand on top of hers, held it for a moment. ‘Whatever happens I want you to know that I’ll be there with you every step of the way.’

      ‘Even in the delivery room?’ The words were out before her brain was engaged.

      ‘I planted the seed, Miranda. I’ll be there for the harvest.’

      She swallowed but her throat was aching with the tears she was fighting to suppress and she couldn’t speak.

      ‘Will you at least think about it while I’m gone?’ he said.

      ‘Gone?’

      The speed of her response betrayed her and his eyes creased in a smile. ‘I won’t be long. I’m going to walk down to the village and pick up some food. I need something a little more substantial than mint tea and cake for breakfast.’ He released her hand, got to his feet. ‘Is there anything that would tempt you?’

      Oh, she was tempted.

      For a long time she’d only been able to imagine what it would be like to spend the night in Cleve’s arms. Now she knew and she was being offered unlimited access. All she had to do was say yes.

      She forced herself to concentrate on the question, letting her mind wander over the major food groups. It came to rest on the image of a banana and her stomach didn’t actually recoil.

      ‘I might be able to eat a banana. A soft one, squashed on a slice of proper bread.’ Her stomach rumbled appreciatively.

      ‘That’s a start. Anything else? Pickles? A lump or two of coal?’ he teased.

      ‘Yes.’ She lifted her hand to shade her eyes from the sun. ‘Take a look in the garage and if there’s a can bring back a few litres of petrol.’

      ‘Milk will do you more good.’

      About to laugh, she realised that he was serious but then he’d been here before. Like any excited father-to-be he would have read all the books, wanting to share every moment of such a life-changing event with Rachel.

      ‘I’ll need a little time for my stomach to adjust to the possibility of dairy,’ she said. ‘Meanwhile, unless someone has spirited them away, there should be a selection of vintage vehicles including a two-seater sports car and a scooter in one of the sheds.’

      ‘They should help pay for the roof repairs but I imagine they’ll all need a little more than petrol to get them started.’

      ‘They’ll certainly need an oil top-up but there might be some in the garage. I’ll come with you and check.’ Cleve looked as if he was about to say something irritating about putting her feet up. Before he could she said, ‘I’ll need some form of transport while I’m here.’

      ‘My vote is for the vintage two-seater,’ he said, holding out a hand. She took it, let him haul her to her feet, because not to would make too much of it. But then he kept her hand in his, holding back the long whippy shoots from overgrown shrubs so they wouldn’t catch her bare arms, not letting go until they reached the garages.

      There was a padlock but the hasp was little more than rust and all it needed was a tug. Cleve opened one of the doors and they were all there. The scooter, a little runaround that you could park on a sixpence, still bright red beneath a thick coating of dust and, underneath a dust sheet, the shape of СКАЧАТЬ