The Pregnancy Proposal. Helen Bianchin
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like that.’
‘Want to talk about it?’
Tasha shook her head. ‘We don’t have time.’
Jared caught hold of her chin between thumb and forefinger, and tilted it. ‘We can make time.’
No, they couldn’t. This was going to take a while if she was going to do it right. And there shouldn’t be any distractions or time restriction.
She knew if she said the word, he would delay their departure for as long as it took. And part of her wanted to, very much.
His presence at tonight’s event was expected. Reneging without good reason was unthinkable.
She managed a faint smile. ‘It can wait.’
He cast her a brooding look, unable to define much from her expression.
‘Really,’ she assured.
‘Later.’
It was capitulation, and she released a silent sigh of relief as he tossed his jacket down onto the bed, pulled off his tie, then began to discard the rest of his clothes.
Half an hour later she slid into the passenger seat of Jared’s late-model Jaguar and sat in silence as he traversed the ramp to street-level, then eased the powerful car towards the city.
She’d gained a reprieve. But only a temporary one. At evening’s end, Jared would have the facts and be aware of her options.
CHAPTER TWO
THE evening’s legal soirée followed the pattern of those preceding it…superb venue, tastefully decorative bite-size food offered on silver platters by an array of uniformed waitresses, while the drinks stewards hovered, presenting guests with champagne and orange juice.
It was all very elegant, Tasha observed. Dinner suits and black tie for the men were de rigueur, and the women excelled themselves in gowns of varying design, length and colour.
There were colleagues to greet and spend time engaging in pleasant conversation before moving on. Notable peers who were important to acknowledge.
She found it vaguely amusing to be partnered by one of the latter, aware of the difference between dignified patronage and obsequious awe as members of the legal fraternity sought Jared’s attention.
Something he handled with friendly professionalism, never faltering in recalling a name or the firm for whom they worked.
‘How do you do that?’ Tasha asked quietly.
A slight smile curved his mouth, tilting the edges and deepening the vertical line slashing each cheek. His eyes were dark and held a musing gleam. ‘Memory training.’
Something he’d honed to perfection during his law-school days. An asset that was equally lauded and feared by his contemporaries.
She selected a canapé from a proffered tray and bit into it, then took a sip from her glass…orange juice, when she would normally have chosen champagne.
Dinner was a splendid meal, the food superb, and their table companions provided interesting conversation.
There were the customary speeches, and Tasha listened attentively, aware throughout the evening she was merely acting an expected part.
If Jared noticed, he gave no sign, although there was more than one occasion when she became aware of his lingering gaze, and she caught the faintly brooding quality evident.
His presence at her side was a constant, and she was supremely conscious of him, the light touch of his hand at her waist, the warmth of his smile.
All she had to do was look at him to feel the blood pump faster through her veins, and sensation unfurl deep within. It became a fine kind of madness that was entirely sensual as heat consumed her body and liquefied her bones.
Those large hands could wreak magic to each and every pulse-beat, and his mouth… Dear heaven, even thinking about what his mouth could do wrought havoc with her senses.
Almost as if he knew, he reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through her own. His thumb-pad soothed the criss-cross of veins pulsing rapidly on the inside of her wrist, and she curled her fingers, letting the fingernails bite into his flesh a little.
Did he know what he did to her? Without doubt, she alluded wryly. She’d been his from the start, ensnared by the power, the sheer male magnetism that was his alone.
The question that needed to be asked…and answered, she ventured silently, was how she affected him? Sexually, what they shared together was good. Better than good. Earth-shattering. She’d have sworn on her life his loss of control wasn’t faked.
But was it love…or merely lust? Sadly, she couldn’t be sure.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ Jared drawled as he pulled her close. ‘The evening is just about done, and we’ve fulfilled our social obligation.’
His gaze narrowed fractionally as he caught the edge of weariness evident on her features, the faint shadows beneath her eyes. Dammit, she looked fragile. The onset of a virus? She’d admitted to a difficult day at the office, which was most unlike her. She excelled with challenge of any kind.
Tasha made no protest, although the thought of exchanging a social comfort zone for what would inevitably prove an explosive situation accelerated her nervous tension.
It took a while to escape, for there were certain courtesies to observe, and Tasha sat quietly in the car as Jared sent it purring through the city streets.
They entered the apartment close to midnight…the witching hour, Tasha acknowledged, and wondered at the irony of it.
‘Coffee?’
‘No, thanks.’
Jared closed the distance between them, and glimpsed the faint wariness evident in her gaze. He caught her chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted it.
‘You’ve been as nervous as a cat on hot bricks all evening.’ His musing drawl had an underlying edge to it. ‘Why?’
There was no easy way to impart her news. She hesitated, reflecting on a few rehearsed lines she’d silently practised…in the office, driving from work, during the evening…and discarded each and every one of them.
‘Tasha?’ A slight smile widened his mouth. ‘What did you do? Earn a traffic violation? Over-extend your credit limit?’ The last was an attempt at humour, and he caught the faint roll of her eyes before she shook her head. ‘No?’ He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, felt its slight quiver, and ditched any further attempt to lighten the situation. ‘I take it this is something serious?’
Oh, man, she reflected ruefully. You don’t know the half of it.
‘Do I continue to play twenty questions, or are you going to tell me?’
She threw out the soft approach and went for hard facts. ‘I’m pregnant.’
Was it benefit of courtroom practice that allowed no expression to show on his features? There was no surprise or shock, and Tasha pre-empted the question she thought he’d be compelled to ask.
‘I had a doctor’s appointment late this morning. He confirmed it.’ She spread her hands in a helpless gesture, then sought to explain how and why the Pill hadn’t been effective. ‘I thought I had a lingering virus.’
Of the many scenarios she’d imagined depicting his reaction, she hadn’t counted on his silence.
She looked at him carefully. ‘I won’t consider a termination.’ This child is mine, she cried silently. But so much a part of you. The thought of relinquishing its chance to life almost killed her.
Dear heaven, why didn’t he say something…anything.
‘Did I ask that of you?’
All