Accidental Baby. KIM LAWRENCE
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doesn’t have to be a battle, Jo.’ Uneasily she saw that his expression suggested he’d be prepared to participate if that was what it took.
‘That’s what I thought,’ she said wistfully. That had been before she’d witnessed firsthand his reaction to the news. Given his head, Liam would take the whole affair out of her hands, and she wasn’t going to have that!
‘I just want to support you.’ The scepticism on her face made his teeth jar together. ‘You’re not alone now.’
‘I don’t think Suzanna would be happy hearing you say that.’
‘Suzanna?’
‘The same Suzanna your letters have been full of for the last month.’ A female that perfect could not have slipped his mind so suddenly. They’d always discussed their partners quite frankly, and it had never bothered her before that he’d had a lot more to discuss than she had, but then she’d never been pregnant before, which probably accounted for the intense dislike she felt for this unknown paragon of womanly virtues.
‘Oh, that Suzanna.’
The self-conscious flush probably meant it was serious. I’m glad for him, she decided virtuously. ‘It might complicate matters if she knows you’re a prospective father,’ she remarked drily.
‘Hell, Jo, I still can’t believe it,’ Liam said hoarsely.
Jo observed his slightly unfocused expression with sympathy. ‘It takes time,’ she admitted. He looked as though he was still in shock, and she could readily relate to that.
‘Are you well? I mean, is everything all right?’ His eyes went to the non-existent bulge of her stomach.
‘I’m not very big, am I?’ She sighed. ‘But the doctor says things are progressing normally.’
‘I meant how are you?’
‘I’m still throwing up, and I seem to need fourteen hours’ sleep a night. But other than that. . . ’
‘God, no wonder Dad and Uncle Bill looked at me like I’d just crawled out from under a stone.’
‘I expect your reputation as a moral crusader can stand it.’
Liam gritted his teeth. ‘I’m not talking about my reputation. I’m thinking about what you’ve been through alone!’ he billowed. ‘What is it with you? Why are you determined to paint me as some lightweight incapable of accepting responsibility?’
‘Blame it on my hormones—I do. They got me into this mess so I might as well get some mileage out of them,’ she quipped a bit nervously. He was taking this even more badly than she’d anticipated.
‘I got you into this mess, as my father and yours will no doubt point out.’
She frowned. ‘I hope you’re not going to suggest anything stupid like getting married,’ she said suspiciously. ‘I’m prepared to make a lot of sacrifices for this baby, but there are limitations!’
There was a pause as Liam looked at her with a peculiar expression in his eyes. ‘In some quarters I’m considered quite a catch,’ he responded finally.
She gave a relieved laugh—at least he hadn’t totally lost his sense of humour. ‘Yes, but I know you a lot better than they do,’ she pointed out reasonably. ‘I’m so glad you’re going to be sensible.’
‘Sensible?’ he said in an odd voice. ‘Because I’m not proposing to you?’
‘That would be disastrous, wouldn’t it?’ She wrinkled up her small nose. ‘I know platonic marriages based on friendship are meant to work very well, but I want a bit of. . . fire in mine. If I ever have one.’
‘Well, I hope you’re not relying on Justin Wood to supply the spark, Jo, because I’d say he’s the flame-resistant type.’ Unaccountably he looked extremely angry.
‘I don’t know what you’ve got against Justin,’ she responded crossly.
‘And I don’t know what you see in him! Never have done. I don’t know what you’re defending him for—he’s the one who gave you the push after. . . how long did this passionate affair go on for?’
‘You’re well aware I went out with Justin for two years. How would you like it if I criticised your girlfriends?’
‘And I suppose it wasn’t criticism when you suggested Tania’s figure owed more to silicone than nature?’
‘Which one was she? I forget. I know some people might say you lack staying power, but I—’
‘You have the tongue of a viper.’ The reluctant smile died from his face as he slipped off the sofa and knelt down beside her. ‘This is one situation you can’t joke yourself out of, Jo.’ He caught her hands firmly within his. ‘You feel like ice,’ he observed with a frown as he began to rub her fingers to restore circulation. ‘I think we’ve got to come to some sort of formal arrangement concerning the baby.’
‘Why does it have to be formal?’ For a minute there when he’d gone down on his knees she’d thought. . . ! Ridiculous. Liam wouldn’t be stupid enough to even suggest it. She had seen the way he’d reacted when his mother had mentioned the word ‘marriage’. His horror at the very thought had been apparent in that unguarded moment.
‘The idea of my child being brought up by a Justin clone makes my blood run cold,’ he said frankly.
Jo pulled her hands free of his crossly. ‘The implication being, you don’t trust me to put the interests of my child first.’
‘Our child,’ he reminded her.
Jo gave a frustrated sigh. ‘I wish I’d never told you.’ Life was complicated enough already without having a possessive father to contend with. The fact that what he said made sense didn’t help at all.
‘You didn’t!’ he reminded her, and she flushed under his ironic gaze and then went very pale. ‘I don’t want to pressure you.’ Unexpectedly he took her face in his hands. For a second she thought he was going to kiss her; his eyes were certainly lingering overlong on the full curve of her mouth. Her heart was thudding so loud he could probably feel the vibrations. ‘I’ll even break it to Mum there won’t be wedding bells.’ With a lopsided smile he released her.
‘Good luck.’ She was glad he hadn’t sealed their tentative bargaining with a kiss. Relief made her feel quite nauseous for a moment and she didn’t dare risk getting to her feet until her knees had stopped shaking.
CHAPTER TWO
‘YOU’LL get those lovely shiny shoes dirty if you come in here,’ Jo warned. The sight of the long legs attached to those shoes instantly put an end to a peaceful half-hour during which she’d managed not to think about anything taxing. She took her time straightening up to give her racing heart time to slow. ‘I’m feeding Napoleon.’
For a man who often bemoaned the fact that his clients could be sentimental about their animals, Bill Smith often brought home a selection of waifs and strays—occasionally one was just too unappealing or antisocial to be found a permanent home. Napoleon, a particularly vile-tempered billy-goat was one of this number, a permanent fixture for many years now.
‘A man could be excused for thinking you didn’t want me near you.’ He kept a wary eye on the goat. ‘That animal has never liked me.’
She couldn’t have asked for a more innocuous conversation; there was certainly nothing in his manner to explain her tumultuous pulse-rate and shaky knees.
‘Normally I’d say you shouldn’t endow animals with human characteristics, but in this case. . . I’ll tie him up—the bill might be hefty if he decides to eat that rather smart suit.’ Loose Italian styling in dark grey made him appear almost a stranger. ‘We don’t usually dress for Sunday lunch,’ she joked, to cover her