CHAPTER NINE

      MELANIE woke first the next morning, aware she was wonderfully warm and cosy and sleepy. Then her eyes snapped open. Forde. He was curled into her back, one male arm resting possessively across her stomach.

      Very, very carefully she eased his arm off her and then turned to face him. He was fast asleep, the duvet down to his waist revealing his wide, muscled shoulders and the black curly body hair covering his chest. She drank him in for some moments and then slid silently out of bed. She didn’t intend to sneak away like the time before, she wouldn’t do that to him again, but neither did she want to pretend they were like any other couple waking up together.

      Gathering her clothes in her arms, she padded through to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. When she emerged, fully clothed and coiffured, she glanced through the open bedroom door. Forde was sitting up in bed, his hands behind his head, and her heart raced like a runaway horse. He looked like every woman’s fantasy of what she’d like to find in her Christmas stocking.

      ‘Hi, sweetheart,’ he said lazily. ‘All finished in there?’

      She nodded jerkily. And then found she couldn’t tear her eyes away as he flung back the duvet and stood up. She had seen him naked many times but she didn’t think she would ever grow tired of looking at him. The flagrant maleness was intoxicating and he moved as beautifully as one of the big cats, his muscles sleek and honed and not an ounce of fat on his hard frame. He had almost reached her before she pulled herself together, but as she went to disappear down the stairs he turned her round with his hand on her arm. His kiss was firm and sweet but he didn’t prolong the embrace, although as he turned away and strolled into the bathroom Melanie noticed a certain part of his anatomy was betraying his desire for her in the age-old way.

      Heat slammed into her cheeks as she scurried downstairs, but then the faint feeling of sickness that would gather steam throughout the day before dispersing round seven or eight o’clock in the evening made itself felt. It was the one thing about pregnancy she truly hated, she told herself, forcing down a couple of dry biscuits once she reached the kitchen. Before she had become pregnant with Matthew she had always imagined morning sickness was just that—you woke up, you vomited, and then you got on with the rest of the day as right as rain. Instead this horrible nausea and the overall feeling of being unwell dogged her all day, but if this baby followed the same pattern as Matthew it would only be another two or three weeks before she felt better.

      Melanie plugged in the coffee machine and then stood with her hands on her stomach, the wonder that a little life was growing inside her engulfing all her worries and fears and doubts for a few moments. ‘You’ll be told about your brother, little one, as soon as you’re old enough to understand,’ she whispered. ‘He was our first child and greatly loved, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be loved too, for who and what you are.’

      Would this baby understand that she had to leave it for its own good, though? Could any child take that on board? It might hate her. But would that matter so much if it was safe and protected and having a good life? The turmoil came in again on a great flood of anguish. She was doing the right thing, wasn’t she? Yes, yes, she was. She couldn’t doubt herself. And there must be no more nights like last night. This separation had to stand. And that meant she mustn’t see Forde any more, because if he was there, in front of her, then all her resolve went out of the window. She wasn’t strong enough where he was concerned.

      ‘What’s wrong?’ said Forde sharply from behind her.

      Melanie swung round, her hands springing away from her belly. ‘Nothing, nothing’s wrong.’

      ‘You were standing there like that and for a minute I thought you were in pain,’ he said thickly, his eyes searching her face as though he still wasn’t quite sure if she was telling him the truth.

      ‘I’m fine.’ She took a deep breath. She had never voluntarily mentioned Matthew or what had happened, Forde had always been the one to broach the subject and more often than not then she had refused to discuss it, knowing she would break down if she did, but now she said quietly, ‘I was thinking of Matthew, that’s all. I—I don’t want him forgotten. I want this baby to know it had a brother.’

      ‘Of course.’ His voice was soft but with a note in it that made her want to cry. ‘That’s taken as read, Nell.’

      ‘Forde, if I agree to go and see Miriam, to talk to her, I want—’ she took a deep breath ‘—I want you to promise you won’t come here again. That’s the deal. I mean it.’

      She saw him take a physical step backwards as though she had slapped him across the face.

      ‘We can’t keep—’ She shook her head. There was no kind way to say it. ‘I don’t want you here. It complicates everything and it will just make the final parting all the harder. I can cope on my own.’

      ‘And if I can’t? Cope, that is?’ he said grimly. ‘What then? Or is this all about you to the exclusion of anything else?’

      Now she felt as though he had slapped her.

      ‘You’re carrying my child,’ he said with deliberate control. ‘That gives me certain rights, surely? You can’t shut me out as though I don’t exist.’

      ‘I’m not trying to shut you out, not from the baby.’

      ‘Oh, I see.’ He raised dark brows. ‘So I promise to stay away for the next nine months—’

      ‘Six. I’m already three months pregnant.’

      ‘Six months,’ he continued as though she hadn’t interrupted, ‘and then what? I get a phone call saying the baby’s born and I can come and pick it up? Is that what you’ve got planned?’

      She stared at him. He had a right to be angry but now she was angry too. ‘I didn’t have to tell you I was pregnant,’ she said stiffly. ‘Not so early on anyway.’

      ‘As I recall, it was me turning up at the doctor’s that forced you to reveal it. Right? Whether you would have told me if you’d had time to think about it, I’m not so sure.’

      Probably because he had touched on something she had been questioning herself about for the last twenty-four hours, Melanie was incensed. ‘I’m not discussing this further, but I’d like you to remember that this is my house and I have a perfect right to say who comes over the threshold.’ She glared at him, hands on hips and her eyes flashing.

      ‘If you weren’t pregnant I’d try shaking some sense into you,’ he ground out between clenched teeth.

      She knew he didn’t mean it. Forde would never touch a woman in anger. Nevertheless her small chin rose a notch. ‘You could try,’ she said bitingly, ‘but don’t forget what I do for a living. I’m stronger than I look.’

      ‘Actually, I’ve never doubted how strong