Tall, Dark... Collection. Кэрол Мортимер
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of herself, too.
Of course it was Friday today, so Andrew Southern wouldn’t receive the letter until tomorrow at the earliest. But surely once the weekend was over the letter and photograph would elicit some sort of a response?
If it didn’t, then Andrew Southern wasn’t the man she’d thought he was!
‘You look beautiful,’ Nick told her huskily as he took in her appearance in a fitted black knee-length dress, before stepping forward to plant a light kiss on her mouth.
A kiss that took her totally by surprise!
So much so that she felt herself respond instinctively, before common sense took over and she moved abruptly away; this man was forcing her to marry him! ‘There’s no need for any sort of play-acting when we’re alone, Nick,’ she told him curtly.
‘Who’s play-acting?’ He raised dark brows over mocking blue eyes, looking wonderfully handsome in a black silk shirt and a gunmetal grey jacket, his black fitted trousers sitting low down on narrow waist and thighs. ‘I happen to enjoy kissing you. I had the distinct impression you enjoyed being kissed by me too…’ he added scathingly. ‘And I would have thought that when we’re alone—considering what our kisses usually lead to—would be exactly the right time!’
Hebe felt a delicate blush highlight her cheeks. As he’d said, she enjoyed a lot more than being kissed by him.
‘I’m merely pointing out that my flatmate has already gone out for the evening, so there’s no one to impress!’ she bit out dismissively.
His brows rose even higher. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if this elusive flatmate exists!’ he taunted, obviously deciding to ignore her jibe.
Hebe’s mouth tightened. ‘Oh, she exists,’she assured him tersely. ‘Are we going straight out to dinner?’ She wasn’t even sure she was going to be able to eat; nothing else she had eaten today seemed to have wanted to stay down.
Being pregnant, she was quickly discovering, was a very uncomfortable state to be in. In fact, at the moment it felt a little like the seasickness she had suffered as a child on a day trip to Calais with her parents!
But this was only in the early stages of pregnancy, so the magazine she had bought when she went out earlier had informed her. Perfectly normal. The sickness usually disappeared by about the fourth month.
Only another seven or eight weeks to go, then!
By which time, if she didn’t manage to keep any food down at all, she would have lost weight rather than gained any!
‘Yes, straight out, I think,’Nick decided lightly. ‘Hopefully there will be less chance of us having an argument if we’re in the middle of a crowded restaurant!’ he added derisively.
Hebe arched a blonde brow. ‘Do you think so?’
Nick chuckled. ‘Not really, no.’ His gaze sharpened. ‘How are you feeling today?’
‘In what way?’ She avoided his question as she collected her cream silk jacket from the back of the chair where she had put it earlier, having no intention of going anywhere near her bedroom once Nick arrived.
They might never leave the apartment at all if she did that—and, no matter what Nick might think to the contrary, Gina really did exist, and was expected back later this evening!
Nick’s mouth twisted wryly. ‘In any way!’
‘Well, I haven’t changed my mind about marrying you, if that’s what you mean,’ she muttered, as she slipped her arms into the jacket he held out for her.
His mouth tightened now. ‘Hebe, could we at least start the evening without fighting?’
She shrugged. ‘You were the one who asked!’
‘And we both know I was referring to your nausea,’ he came back impatiently.
‘Then why didn’t you just say so?’ She grimaced. ‘I’ve only been sick four times today so far. Not bad, considering I haven’t been able to eat or drink anything all day!’
Nick frowned at this information, not at all happy with the fact that she was being quite so sick. He had noted the paleness of her cheeks when he’d arrived, but had hoped that was just due to the tension of the situation.
‘Sally—my ex-wife,’ he explained shortly, ‘saw a guy over here when she was pregnant with Luke. I think it might be advisable for me to make an appointment for you to go and see him—’
‘No!’ Hebe cut in vehemently, her expression fierce. ‘I don’t want to go and see some specialist your wife saw when she was expecting Luke!’ He looked surprised by her forcefulness.
Nick frowned darkly. ‘Why the hell not? This guy’s the best that there is.’
‘I’m sure he is.’ She grimaced. ‘But Sally was your wife, and I’m just—just—’
‘The woman who is shortly going to be my wife,’ he cut in grimly.
Was everything going to be this much of a battle with Hebe? Probably, he acknowledged heavily.
But he wasn’t going to give up. Making sure his baby was all right and having Hebe in his bed was going to be worth every battle scar…
‘Hebe, you may as well get used to the idea,’ he told her firmly. ‘You and I, and the baby you’re expecting, are going to be a family. End of story.’
She gave him a pitying look. ‘If you really think it’s going to be that simple then I feel sorry for you!’
Of course he didn’t think it was going to be that simple. He already knew just how determined Hebe could be, how with her it was the irresistible force meeting the immovable object; he just happened to believe that the sooner she accepted they were going to be married the better it would be for both of them!
And the baby…
The thought of Hebe pregnant with his child was still strange to him. It was a wonder, a miracle, and even if he was not at all happy with Hebe’s methods he knew he had spent most of the day walking around with a ridiculous smile on his face. More than one of his exployees had done a double-take at it.
About the same amount of time Hebe had spent being thoroughly sick, by the sound of it.
‘Come on.’ He took a firm hold of her arm. ‘We’ll simply go through the menu until we find something that does stay down!’
Bruschetta and olives, Hebe eventually found, after a false start with soup and asparagus; the latter she hadn’t even got as far as her mouth, the smell having been enough to put her off.
‘Better?’ Nick murmured, with obvious relief.
Obviously he wasn’t used to taking out such a fastidious eater, and normally she wouldn’t have been—had always been able to eat anything in the past.
But the maître’d at this exclusive restaurant was most attentive, seeming completely unconcerned that the waiter had had to bring three starters before they found something Hebe could eat, simply whisking away the plates that had offended.
Obviously there were some benefits to being out with Nick Cavendish, after all!
‘Would you like me to order some more?’ he offered, once she had eaten all the bread and succulent olives with obvious enjoyment.
Embarassingly so, if she thought about it. But she had been hungry.
She grimaced. ‘Let’s just wait and see if this stays down, shall we?’ She frowned across at him questioningly. ‘I hope that isn’t a smile I see on your face?’
Nick instantly sobered. ‘Not at all. I’m just pleased you’ve found something you can eat.’
Hebe continued to eye him suspiciously for several seconds, but as he continued to blandly meet her gaze she finally gave