Accidental Baby (6 page)

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Authors: Kim Lawrence

BOOK: Accidental Baby
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The significance of the noises emanating from within hit him and he rubbed his hand stiffly across his forehead, almost expecting to find the words insensitive and unreeling tattooed there.
Fifteen minutes later Jo was sitting cross-legged on the bathroom floor feeling she had more in common with a wet dishcloth than a human being. A pair of gleaming black boots came into view, but she didn’t look up.
‘Can I do anything?’
‘Besides lecture me on child-rearing?’
‘I was out of order.’
‘I thought you’d be out of here by now.’ Under the circumstances she felt she was quite restrained in giving him his marching orders so politely.
‘I didn’t want to barge in earlier,’ he said gruffly ‘Can I get you anything?’
‘Privacy,’ she said bluntly. You had to be blunt with some people.
‘Just yell if you want anything. I’m not going anywhere. Sure I can’t do anything?’ Helplessness was not an emotion Liam was used to and his frustration was clearly visible as he hovered indecisively over her.
‘My brow’s not fevered and it doesn’t need mopping,’ she snapped crankily. Even being blunt didn’t work with him! Poor Liam. She felt a sudden inconvenient surge of remorse. ‘I’m sorry, Liam, but I’m not the grin-and-bear-it type; if you stay around I’m more likely to bite your head off.’ She finally looked up, and underneath the exhaustion a faint smile of apology lingered.
She looked worryingly white, her freckles standing out starkly and her copper hair darkened with sweat.
‘I’ll take the chance.’ When the words came they were hoarse. The peculiar strained quality in his tone made Jo look sharply at him.
No wonder he’s staring, she thought. I must really look a fright. She wasn’t sure her present condition, unpleasant as it was, warranted that sort of expression on his face. He looked—well, shell-shocked was the closest she could come up with. I suppose the realities of pregnancy aren’t always that pretty, she reflected. Not when you get up close.
‘If past experience is anything to go by I’ll be here quite a while yet and all I’ll want to do is crawl into bed. If you want to lecture me it’ll have to wait until the morning,’
she warned him, just m case he was hanging on in the hope of making her see the light.
When she made her way some time later to the bedroom Liam was slumped on her sofa. ‘I’m off to bed, you can let yourself out.’
’How are you feeling?’
‘Fine, really.’ She was tired and a bit shivery. She’d shed her clothes in the bathroom and pulled on a fluffy towelling robe which she hugged around herself now.
‘I thought you didn’t go in for brave smiles?’
She shot him a wry smile. ‘You caught me, it’s a female thing you wouldn’t understand. Every man I know makes a major production out of a cold.’ That was one generalisation she was prepared to defend.
The pristine white sheets on her bed had been neatly turned down and a jug of iced water stood on the bedside table. Liam appeared in the doorway. ‘Thanks.’ The sheets had been white when she’d shared—stupid! All her sheets were white. Don’t start thinking about
that
now!
‘Can I get you tea or anything?’
He was far too big to hover, and her bedroom wasn’t that big to begin with. ‘Tea’s a major no-no at the moment,’ she told him with a shudder. ‘Water’s fine.’
She opened a drawer and pulled out a fresh nightdress. It was a nostalgic white lawn affair, ankle-length. She shook it out. ‘Do you mind?’ She paused, hand on the tie of her robe, and gave him a pointed look.
‘You obviously do.’ He made a meal of turning his back on her. ‘I’ll close my eyes if that will help?’
His sarcasm really riled her. So, he’s seen it all before, she thought angrily. It doesn’t mean he’s got a lifetime’s viewing rights. ‘It would help if you just went away.’ She let the robe fall to the floor and wriggled swiftly into the nightdress.
‘I’ve no intention of leaving until you’re safely in bed.’ There was a grim note of finality in his voice.
Safe
! Last time he’d been here bed hadn’t been at all safe. This private reflection brought a little colour back into her pale cheeks.
‘You done?’
She nodded and then remembered he couldn’t see her. ‘Uh-huh.’ She picked up her robe and hung it on the hook on the wardrobe door. Like most of the items in her flat it was an old, second-hand piece which she’d bought and imaginatively renovated. She’d rubbed the layers of heavy dark varnish off it and the wood grain now gleamed through the misty-blue colour wash. The tedious hours spent on it had been worth it.
When she turned around he was watching her. Despite the pin-tucks and modest neckline, in certain lights the nightgown was transparent. The lighting in the room provided perfect conditions for this to happen at that moment.
His lips were parted slightly and his eyes half closed as she frowned inquiringly at him. The brooding expression on his dark face grew more intense and she saw the muscles in his throat silently work.
‘I used to wonder what you looked like, you know, without anything on.’ His husky words flowed over her like the finest silk, insidiously clinging, creating soft flurries of sensation as it brushed against her skin. ‘Did you wonder what I . . . ?’
Tearing herself from the mesmeric quality of his eyes, Jo looked down and gave a startled gasp. Even from her disadvantaged viewpoint she could see the provocative thrust of her nipples poking through the fabric and the shadow at the apex of her slim legs against which the soft, floating fabric clung. Did he think she’d done this on purpose?
‘Never!’ she squeaked, diving under the covers. ‘I’ve never. . . Well, only in passing, like you do.’ Honesty had a place, she thought with exasperation, but this wasn’t it! No matter how platonic a friendship was, curiosity was natural, wasn’t it? His body wasn’t a subject she thought it wise to linger over too long at the moment.
Liam nodded as though he understood what she was saying completely. Maybe a bit too completely, she thought suspiciously, observing the worrying gleam in his Irish eyes.
‘Comfy?’ he asked solicitously.
When had he wondered what her body was like? Surely she would have detected any thoughts like that? Now there was no longer a mystery she couldn’t help wondering what he thought. Was the reality disappointing?
She couldn’t help herself mentally comparing her figure to the numerous girlfriends he’d had over the years. He wasn’t fixated on a particular type, you had to give Liam that—he didn’t discriminate between blondes, brunettes, tall, petite, voluptuous and athletic. She couldn’t remember him ever going out with a redhead, though.
‘Fine, thanks.’ She really had to stop thinking about him like this!
‘I don’t know how in that bed,’ Liam observed, placing his hand on the foot of the bed and lightly rattling the wooden frame. ‘It’s not big enough for a pygmy.’
An image of their hot, sweat-drenched bodies entwined on the narrow mattress irresistibly popped into her head. ‘It suits me.’ Had he wanted to provoke that very image? Or had it been her mind reading too much into a casual observation? Why was she even wondering?
‘I’m amazed Justin didn’t persuade you to buy something more. . . spacious.’
‘Justin didn’t sleep over.’ She was too flustered by the
way his eyes skimmed over her face and lower to dissemble.
‘But I thought you two. . . ?’
‘We did!’ she assured him, her face ablaze with embarrassment. There had been a time when she’d been able to discuss anything with Liam without suffering a scrap of self-consciousness. She somehow doubted that time would ever return. ‘I always needed to get up early in the morning and. . . We both like our privacy. . . ’
‘God knows what you ever saw in him.’ Liam’s scornful comment cut into her rambling justification for the lack of passion in her sex life.
Before
she hadn’t even noticed that the routine of her professional life was echoed in the more private aspects of her life.
Before
she hadn’t been aware of a sense of dissatisfaction. Her life seemed to have fallen into two definite areas: life before she’d taken Liam into her bed, and life after. She
must
stop making comparisons.
It felt extremely disloyal to Justin to constantly contrast his lovemaking with the madness of that night. Her state of mind had obviously had a lot to do with it, she told herself—even if they wanted to they couldn’t repeat that sort of wild intensity again. Now why did she go and think that?
‘I saw a kind, considerate—’ she began fiercely.
‘Unimaginative, boring. . . ’
‘I don’t know why you’re so mean about Justin—after all, it was you who encouraged me to sleep with him!’ she pointed out crossly.
‘I did
what?’
In other circumstances the rigid outrage on his face might have made her laugh.
‘You were always teasing me about being a. . . you know—’
‘Virgin?’
‘Exactly.’ She frowned at the interruption, implying with a disdainful glance that she hadn’t been struggling for words at all. ‘It was you who said I shouldn’t wait for some white knight, I should get out there and—’
‘I didn’t!’ he began, his colour heightened.
‘Yes, you did. I just followed your advice.’
‘For God’s sake,’ he protested, ‘I didn’t mean for you to sleep with just anyone, just for the sake of it. It’s worth waiting for someone special. . . ’ He looked totally appalled at the notion that his joking remarks could have been so influential.
‘Like you did,’ she put in with sweet-faced malice. He had the grace to look sheepish.
‘That’s different!’
‘It certainly is,’ she agreed wholeheartedly. ‘What I had with Justin involved neither selfishness or shallow thrill-seeking. For goodness’ sake, Liam, don’t look so devastated. I didn’t jump into bed with Justin just because I thought you felt I ought to, or because you were my role model. I fell in love with him.’ Hearing the defiance in her tone made her frown. The admission didn’t appear to appease Liam either.
‘Then why the hell didn’t you want
his
babies? According to you, you’ve got this biological time bomb ticking away.’
She blinked. Good question. ‘Who said I didn’t?’ she prevaricated glibly.
‘You refused to marry him so it logically follows—’
‘Oh, don’t start flinging your own peculiar brand of logic at me. The timing was wrong, that’s all.’
‘And now?’
‘You can’t turn back the clock.’
‘If you could. . . ?’
He didn’t ask easy questions, did he? ‘I wish you’d just
leave me in peace to sleep. I can’t think straight, let alone play your stupid games of if onlys.’ The dark circles under her eyes gave added weight to this claim; they made Liam back off, anyway.
‘Goodnight, Jo.’
She pulled the covers over her head and huddled down. Pity he wasn’t always so sensitive to her needs. This thought led irresistibly to a series of sizzling memories that proved beyond any shadow of a doubt just how sensitive Liam
could
be to her needs. He’d seemed to know what she wanted before she did.
 
The sound of the telephone dragged Jo from a shallow, dream-filled slumber. A light shone from the open door of the living room. She opened her eyes in time to see Liam fling himself at the shrill instrument and grab it off the receiver mid-shriek.
‘I’ll take it.’ She reached out as he picked it up.
He blinked and rubbed his tousled hair when he saw her open eyes. ‘Sorry, I tried to get here before it woke you.’ The buttons on his shirt had come adrift almost to his waist and his olive-toned skin gleamed in the subdued light. She tore her eyes firmly away from the spectacle of his heavily muscled torso.
‘Hello. Hello, Uncle Pat. Yes, yes, he is here.’ She grimaced as she passed the phone to Liam. ‘It’s for you.’
‘Father.’ His jaw tightened as he listened to the blistering diatribe from the other end. ‘There never has been a secret affair.’
Jo glanced at the clock—two-thirty. She could see how Liam being in her flat at that time in the morning might lead his father to believe he’d been lied to. There were some very natural conclusions most people would jump to. Ironically Liam had slept on her sofa several times before—on
those occasions they might just have talked too late into the night for it to be sensible for him to go home, or they might have shared a bit too much wine. Nobody had rung on those innocent occasions and it would never have occurred to her to have been embarrassed about the fact he’d slept over.
As she watched Liam listening it soon became obvious that something was wrong—badly wrong. She could see it in the tension that stiffened his big body in a tense, unnatural posture. He rubbed the palm of his hand against the rigid, dark-shadowed line of his angular jaw. The curling sweep of his dark eyelashes was the only hint of softness in his otherwise rather harsh features; right now they cloaked his expression. The strong premonition of disaster settled like an icy stone in the pit of her belly.

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