The Bachelor's Baby. Liz Fielding

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СКАЧАТЬ on the white porcelain sink. How much had she planned? All of it? Even that dramatic last-minute entry at the christening?

      She’d known he would be there, singled him out, enchanting him with her green eyes and seductive voice. And he didn’t doubt for a minute she knew, understood exactly what effect she would have on any susceptible man.

      Oh, yes. It had been planned, and, libido rampant, he’d fallen for it. Right down to that last magical embrace when her kiss had trawled him in, tempting him beyond thought…

      What a fool! What an idiot!

      What on earth had possessed him? He was a man with ‘precaution’ stamped on his brain. Mike had as good as warned him. ‘Take care,’ he’d said. He hadn’t added, ‘She’ll bewitch you.’ Not that it would have made any difference.

      Jake had thought himself invulnerable to even the most meticulously planned guerilla attack on his heart. It had been tried before and his heart was totally immune to sentiments beyond his experience, beyond his understanding. Which was why he’d so cavalierly ignored the danger signals, Mike’s warning.

      So now what?

      Did she believe that he would marry her because she was carrying his child? Had she picked out a millionaire daddy for her baby? Well, she’d picked the wrong man for those games.

      ‘Jake?’

      He turned as softly, oh, so softly, her voice caressed him, teased him, stole into every corner of his mind.

      Take care.

      Mike was right. Even now it was taking every ounce of self-control to stop himself from reaching out for her, from taking her into his arms, telling her that it would be all right.

      He knew better.

      He wasn’t like Mike, who’d grown up in a warm, caring family and had learned to play happy families at his mother’s knee. He’d warned Amy, told her that he didn’t do commitment, and the sooner she understood that it would take more than a blue line on a stick of plastic to suck him into her tender trap, the better.

      ‘Jake?’ she repeated, the soft inflection inviting an explanation.

      ‘Amy?’ he responded, his voice lifting in ironic mimicry. And opened his hand so that she would know exactly what he meant. ‘Now, I’ll ask you again. Should you be digging in your condition?’

      ‘I’m pregnant, Jake,’ she said quietly, refusing to respond to the aggression in his voice. ‘Not an invalid.’

      ‘And you intend going through with it?’ he demanded.

      She regarded him steadily, sorrowfully, her eyes all too visible now, all too easy to read, and he dearly wished the words unsaid. Unthought.

      ‘This is my baby, Jake. She might only be this big—’ and she held her finger and thumb with scarcely a space between them ‘—but she’s my little girl.’ Then she turned and walked out of the bathroom.

      Jake frowned, followed her down the stairs. ‘You can tell that it’s a girl? Already?’ he demanded.

      She shook her head impatiently. ‘Go away, Jake. This is nothing to do with you.’

      ‘Nothing…’ His breath caught in his throat. ‘Are you saying this is not my baby?’ he demanded. If she was, the sick feeling that had been sitting like a stone in his stomach since Willow erupted into the kitchen with her news should have evaporated. It hadn’t. It had shifted, changed, deepened. ‘Well? Are you?’

      ‘No, Jake, I’m not saying that. She’s your baby. Our baby. What I’m saying is that you needn’t…’

      ‘What? I needn’t what?’

      ‘Worry about us.’ Her hand hovered briefly at her waist, so that he would know which ‘us’ she was referring to, before she let it drop to her side. ‘I don’t need you to hold my hand. We don’t need you. If it bothers you, just go away, forget you ever came here. Forget you ever met me.’

      He stared at her. Was she serious? ‘That’s what you want?’ She didn’t answer him and he suddenly realised what was going on. She wanted a baby with a daddy rich enough to ensure that it lacked for nothing. She didn’t want the trouble of a man about the house. ‘I’ll be hearing from your lawyers, is that it?’ he asked, keeping his own voice flat and expressionless.

      ‘Lawyers?’ She shook her head, as if he was slow-witted or something. ‘I don’t want your money, Jake. I have money. I run a successful business…’

      Yeah, sure. He wasn’t that slow. ‘You can’t run a business with a baby on your hip.’

      ‘Watch me.’ Then she made the slightest of gestures, apparently dismissing him and his concerns. ‘Or not. As you please. You said you don’t do commitment, Jake. I heard you, and you can believe me when I promise that you’re not committed to me or my baby. Financially or emotionally.’ There was a crispness in her voice that suggested she was losing patience. ‘And you needn’t worry about what Mike and Willow will think. I’ll speak to them. They know me; they’ll understand.’

      ‘Will they? I’m damned if I do.’

      ‘No? Well, I’m sorry, Jake, I’m afraid I can’t put it any plainer.’

      And she crossed to the door, opened it as if she was setting free some small frightened creature that she was pushing out into the world for its own good.

      Standing on the threshold, his thoughts in a turmoil, he realised that he didn’t want to go. He just didn’t know how to stay. And if he did stay it would give Amaryllis Jones entirely the wrong idea about his determination not to get caught up in the emotional rollercoaster she had boarded.

      Bad idea.

      Instead he headed for the gate while he still remembered how, determined not to look back once he’d got there. If she was bluffing, well, he was calling her.

      The door clicked shut before he’d gone half a dozen steps and he swung round, taken by surprise.

      Dammit, she meant it! She really meant it!

      Well, that was just fine. So did he. Now they both knew where they stood.

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