Bedded for His Pleasure: Bedded by a Bad Boy / In the Gardener's Bed / The Return of the Rebel. Heidi Rice
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been dark last night and he hadn’t got a good look at her. But now in the noon sun, her belly looked enormous in the stretchy little summer dress. Embarrassed that he found the sight beautiful, he looked away. He concentrated on pulling the bandanna out of his back pocket and wiping his brow.
Drawing level with the riding mower, Ali sighed and rubbed her back. ‘You’re just the man I needed to talk to.’
Monroe dismounted slowly. ‘You got me.’
His glance seemed to flit to her abdomen again of its own accord.
Ali smiled. ‘Don’t panic, Monroe. I’m not due for at least another few weeks.’
Monroe felt his stomach pitch. ‘You’re gonna get bigger?’
She laughed. ‘Probably, but don’t worry. I won’t pop.’
Monroe spent some time tucking his bandanna into his back pocket before looking at her. He could see the smile in her eyes and relaxed enough to smile back at her.
She didn’t just look big. She looked gorgeous. Her sister Jessie would look the same when she had kids. He ruthlessly suppressed the thought. It wasn’t something he was ever going to see.
‘Anyway, enough about me and the bump,’ Ali remarked. ‘I wanted to thank you for all the work you’ve been doing around here. The people carrier drives like a dream now and the gardens look fantastic.’
‘You’re welcome.’ His shoulders tensed. ‘Linc hasn’t sent you over to tell me to stop, has he?’
‘No.’ She looked surprised. ‘Did he have words with you about it, then?’
‘Yeah.’ It annoyed him to realise it was still needling him.
‘I thought he might,’ Ali said slowly, a considering look in her eyes. ‘Linc’s a little hung up about money. He thinks because he’s got heaps of it, nobody else should pay for anything. He’s generous to a fault,’ Ali continued, the calm understanding in her face making Monroe feel edgy. ‘But he doesn’t always stop to consider the importance of pride and self-respect. Especially to people who’ve had to earn it the hard way.’
Monroe was speechless. How the hell did she know that about him? They’d only met a week or so ago.
‘Anyway—’Ali’s voice was light, but the look in her eyes as she registered his reaction was anything but ‘—I didn’t come to talk to you about Linc and his many shortcomings.’
Monroe tried to shake off his uneasiness. ‘Right.’
‘Linc’s got a problem at the New York office, so we’ve decided to base ourselves at the penthouse for a few weeks. We’re leaving tomorrow evening.’
‘No sweat.’ Did that include Jessie? he wondered.
‘The thing is, it’s Emmy’s sixth birthday next Tuesday.’
Monroe gave a quick grin, recalling Emmy’s endless chatter on the subject. ‘She might just have mentioned that a couple of times.’
‘I’ll bet she has.’ Ali grinned back. ‘We thought it might be nice, before we head off to Manhattan, if we had a little surprise birthday party for her tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’ Monroe refused to feel the little stab of pain as it occurred to him why Ali was telling him all this. ‘You want me to make myself scarce. It’s not a problem.’
‘What? No!’ Ali grabbed his arm. Her eyes, Monroe saw with amazement, were wide with shock. ‘Monroe, for goodness’ sake! I came staggering all the way out here—and, believe me, walking three hundred yards with a belly this size is no mean feat—to make sure you didn’t make yourself scarce tomorrow. I want you there. Emmy would be devastated if you didn’t turn up. We all would be.’
Now it was his turn to be amazed. He could see by the earnest look in her eyes that she was absolutely serious. ‘Are you sure about this?’
‘Monroe, I’m warning you, if you don’t show up, I’m going to—’ She broke off, grabbed her belly. ‘Oh!’
Monroe felt the blood drain out of his face. ‘What’s wrong, Ali? Is it the kid?’ He reached for her, but Ali only grinned when she got her breath back.
‘No, no. It’s okay.’ She kept hold of his hand, pulled it towards her. ‘The baby gave me the most almighty kick. Here, press down and you can feel it, too.’
She placed her hands over his and pushed his palm firmly into the stretchy cotton fabric. Monroe was about to draw back, miserably embarrassed, when he felt two quick jabs.
‘Damn!’ His heart jumped into his throat.
‘Isn’t it great? This one’s a real slugger. Emmy used to just lie there all day. I guess she made up for it, though, when she got out.’
Lost in happy memories, Ali didn’t look at him until he dragged his palm away.
Her face sobered instantly. ‘Monroe, are you okay?’
‘Yeah.’ He felt sick with regret and a terrible longing that he thought he’d buried years before. ‘It’s just…it’s pretty mind-blowing, isn’t it?’ That much was at least the truth. ‘I need to get back to this. I’ll see you later.’
Ali watched as Monroe climbed back onto the ride-on mower. Why was he avoiding her eyes?And why had he looked so shattered, so desperate, a moment ago? ‘Don’t forget, I want to see you at the house tomorrow, around about noon,’ she said.
‘Sure.’ He gave her a vague nod as he pulled the bandanna out of his back pocket and tied it round his forehead.
‘And I better warn you, I won’t accept any excuses.’ Her parting words were lost in the roar of the engine. Ali could see the grim concentration on his face as he drove off.
What had happened to him? And what did it have to do with the baby?
CHAPTER EIGHT
AS JESSIE wrote out her third delivery slip of the day, she saw the Cranford Art Gallery’s owner, Mrs Bennett, approach.
‘Well done, my dear,’ she said. ‘I can’t remember the last time we sold three canvases in the space of a couple of hours.’ It was the first time Jessie had seen Mrs Bennett really smile. The gesture made her look younger and even a little carefree.
Jessie found herself smiling back. ‘Thank you, Mrs Bennett.’
‘You know, you’re a natural at this.’
‘I think I’ve been lucky with the sales,’Jessie said, cautiously.
‘I’m not talking about the sales,’ Mrs Bennett said. ‘Although, that is a nice side benefit. No, I mean, you know about art. You’ve got a good eye, my dear.’
Jessie found her chest swelling at the appreciation in her employer’s gaze. She’d been distracted since last night, thinking about Monroe and his artwork. Wondering if she even had the right to ask to see it. Would she really know if it was any good or not? But Mrs Bennett’s praise gave her a newfound confidence. Maybe her idea that she could make a career out of her appreciation of art wasn’t that ridiculous after all. ‘Thank you, that means a lot to me,’ she said.
‘I’m glad.’ Mrs Bennett leant forward. ‘Actually, my coming over to speak to you wasn’t entirely altruistic.’
‘It wasn’t?’
‘Ellen Arthur just rang to say she’s sprained her ankle.’
‘That’s dreadful.’ Jessie knew the other woman was the gallery’s chief sales assistant and part-time curator.
‘It’s not all that serious, but Ellen won’t be in for the next two weeks and I need someone to cover for her in the mornings. I wondered if you could come in?’
‘I’d