Table of Contents

Cover Page

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Copyright

Dear Reader,

How would you feel if the man you loved married another woman? What would you say if that man was the father of your baby—and he asked you to give up your child?

This strong, intensely emotional dilemma is the theme of Elizabeth Power’s latest romance, Terms of Possession. Once again, this talented author deals with powerful issues touching the hearts and lives of all women.

We know you’ll be captivated and deeply moved by this special romance.

Happy Reading!

The Editor

ELIZABETH POWER was born in Bristol, England where she lives with her husband in a three-hundred-year-old cottage. A keen reader, as a teenager she had already made up her mind to be a novelist, although it wasn’t until around age thirty that she took up writing seriously. As an animal lover, with a strong leaning toward vegetarianism, her interests include organic vegetable gardening, regular exercise, listening to music, fashion and ministering to the demands of her adopted, generously proportioned cat!

Terms Of Possession
Elizabeth Power

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Dad and Lyn—and the fond memory of our day in Bath With love

CHAPTER ONE

IGNORING the anxious green eyes, the tense features in the softly lit mirror, Nadine got up from the dressing-table, feeling the apricot satin nightdress move with disturbing sensuality against her skin.

Whichever way one looked at it, it was still adultery, she thought with an apprehensive little shiver. What other way was there to describe having sex with a married man?

Heat washed over her as she gazed out of the diamond-paned window, down on to the pleasingly lit gardens of the small country hotel. How discreet of him to bring her here, away from London, she reflected, with increasing tension licking through her as she heard water running out of the basin in the adjoining room. Surely one of the West End hotels might have proved a more appropriate setting—a more impersonal place for the cold, meaningless act they were about to-’Savouring the view?’

The deep, impartial voice jerked her head round in a blaze of rich auburn, her body stiffening from the sudden, stark exposure to that speculative masculine gaze. The satin nightie did nothing to conceal the gentle curves of her body, and feeling the heat of that gaze, with a dryness in her throat, she uttered challengingly, ‘Are you?’

He smiled a tight smile—the type she had seen him use often in open court. Cameron Hunter. Brilliant barrister. Ruthless adversary. And Lisa’s husband. She had to remember that. Keep reminding herself of the reason why she was here.

‘It’s commendable,’ he approved with a detached softness as he came towards her, a more relaxed smile easing the austerity of hard, strongly defined features.

He hadn’t undressed yet, and the pull of something frighteningly basic overrode her relief. Jacketless, he was still wearing the white shirt and dark trousers he had worn at dinner, but his muscular leanness was all too apparent now, and with a tight contraction of her throat she noticed how the black wavy hair curling over his collar was mirrored in the open ‘V’ of the shirt he had casually loosened.

‘I’m sorry if I kept you. I thought you’d be in bed.’ Nadine swallowed, unable to look at that enormous feature of the plushly Victorian room with all it implied.

‘No. That’s all right. I mean…’ How could he appear so cool? ‘I—I mean…you didn’t.’

Heaven! She was twenty-four, for goodness’ sake! Why did she have to sound like a stammering schoolgirl in contrast with him? Because she didn’t have a clue how to handle this situation—never dreaming, when she had originally agreed to the surrogacy arrangements, that it would ultimately come to this.

And he was shrewd enough to realise it, she despaired, seeing the line furrowing the high forehead even before he said, ‘Are you sure you…really want to go through with this?’

She looked at him quickly. No, she wasn’t. Oh, not that his child wasn’t the one thing in the world that she dearly wanted! But not like this, she thought—not in these circumstances. She wondered, from his query alone, if he had reservations too.

‘To have a child for another woman is a tall order,’ he stated phlegmatically. ‘You could be forgiven for backing out.’

Backing out? Nadine’s body went rigid. Hadn’t she considered the consequences of that ever since she had agreed to Lisa’s crazy suggestion? Lisa, who had everything except the one thing she desperately longed for—Cameron’s child. But she, Nadine, had agreedagreed because the only man she had ever wanted was Cameron Hunter.

Too shy to let him know of her feelings four years ago, she’d had to stand by and painfully watch while he married her best friend—even though she’d always felt that Lisa wasn’t really right for him. Therefore the thought of bearing his child—the child Lisa had craved and which, after countless tests, she had ruefully admitted to Nadine she was physically unable ever to give him—seemed like compensation, in a way, for her own loss.

And besides, coming when it had, Lisa’s suggestion had been like the answer to a prayer. Nadine had needed money. Money to pay for the vital heart surgery that could save her mother’s life.

But the complicated procedure of insemination, with its various tests and no guarantee at the end of it all of success, had all been considered too time-consuming-and time was running out. So really what choice had she had?

‘No.’ Glad that he had preferred to keep it a totally private affair, and with a steely determination, she lifted her small chin, resolve in every taut line of her fine bone-structure. ‘When I enter into a contract—even if it’s only a verbal one—I honour it.’

Cameron’s mouth took on the barest curve. A disciplined mouth, she had always thought, that could disarm or slay with a single movement. And then every nerve seemed to pulse into violent life as, slipping a hand under the rich sheen of her hair at the nape of her neck, he whispered, ‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ and drew her face purposefully towards his.

‘Cameron…’

‘Hush.’ The gentle touch of his lips silenced her uncertain murmur, causing her blood to pump with dizzying force along her veins. Their bodies weren’t actually touching, but the rough texture of his cheek with the subtle scent of his cologne and the slow brush of his mouth over hers sent such a shiver of sensuality through her that she stiffened in unconscious withdrawal. He was Lisa’s husband! She had no right…

‘Relax.’

Of course. He could tell. Nothing would escape him. He was trained to observe and detect every small flinch, every weakness in the human character.

‘I’m sorry.’ She closed her eyes to blot out the sight of his tall, wholly masculine figure as he pushed back the auburn waves from her shoulder, his dark head inclining to the bare flesh he had exposed.

Nadine sucked in her breath. Dear God, how long had she wanted this? ‘Cameron, I…’ Her breath shuddered through her lungs, making her voice sound provocatively husky. ‘I mean…’ Oh, goodness! Was this really happening? ‘I thought…’ What had she thought? That it would be quick and emotionless—at least on his part? Not this dangerously gentle seduction that was threatening to liberate the futile emotions she had nursed for him since she was eighteen and which she had bound in iron fetters the day he had married Lisa. ‘Couldn’t we just…?’

His laugh was a soft rumble in his throat. ‘We could,’ he murmured silkily, trailing kisses along the smooth line of her throat to the lobe of her ear. ‘But you wouldn’t thank me for that.’

No, she thought, clenching her hands at her sides to stem the shocking tide of prohibited pleasure that ran through her as his tongue found the sensitive inner curve of her ear. At thirty-four, he would know women well-and the effect he had upon them without even trying.

‘You’re trembling.’ His hands were resting on her shoulders, strong and firm. ‘I know the circumstances of this…arrangement might be a bit unusual, but you’re not a child. Being in this situation with a man—’ his chin lifted to embrace the sensuously lit bedroom ‘—surely can’t be entirely foreign to you?’

Nadine gulped. If only he knew! ‘No,’ she lied, unable to tell him just how inexperienced she was—that she’d never met another man who had interested her beyond anything even mildly physical since the day he’d stormed into her office during her first week in his chambers all those years ago and castigated her for an incompetence that hadn’t been her fault. And at that moment she envied his confident maturity, his sexual sophistication that far exceeded her own.

Nevertheless, she still wasn’t prepared for the extent of her own startling reaction as he suddenly pulled her against him, for her body’s shocking response to the hard warmth of him through her nightdress, to the sudden firm demands of his mouth.

Sensations shook her, her knees seeming to liquefy so that her hands slid to his shoulders and clung to him, to the solidity of warm muscle beneath the soft sensuality of his shirt.

How many nights had she lain awake as a hapless teenager, stifling her feverish longing for this in the dark oblivion of her pillow? How many times since had she discouraged male interest beyond anything further than the odd innocent kiss, finding all potential suitors lacking the dangerous and exciting dynamism of this one man?

His arms were tightening like a vice around her so that she could feel every hard, aroused sinew of his body. She shuddered with the sensations she was fighting to control, wrought with the almost unbearable exertion of self-restraint.

How could she allow herself to feel like this? To forget that he was married—married to Lisa! She tensed, groaning a soft protest, and through her swimming senses heard him say, ‘Come on, Nadine. Loosen up. It’s only you and me.’

And for you it’s just a business arrangement, she thought, stifling the silent despair in her heart by telling herself rather unconvincingly that she was doing this solely to help her mother.

‘It’s all right for you. I…’ How could she tell him that she didn’t wholly know what was expected of her? That she was afraid to let herself go, because if she did then he might guess just how she felt about him?

‘Leave it to me, Nadine.’

Almost as if he had read her mind he was taking command, and she caught her breath as he suddenly lifted her easily and carried her over to the bed.

His hands, burning through the apricot satin, were like flames to dry kindling, and she had to bite her bottom lip to stem a cry at their pleasuring warmth. He was a master at this, she thought hazily as those hands shaped her feminine softness, her breath coming shallowly as he suddenly slipped the thin straps off her shoulders, drew her nightdress down over the creamier satin of her breasts.

‘You’re lovely.’ His whispered appreciation of her showed in the taut lines of his face, and she closed her eyes to the deepening blue of his.

She could hear the ragged quality of his breathing, feel the hardening of his body as he lay across her, his lips burning over the soft, creamy rise of her breasts.

He was aroused, she thought, tensing. And—dear heaven—so was she. And yet…Beads of perspiration broke out across her forehead, along the perfect top line of her mouth. He was a man. It was his prerogative to enjoy a woman. But if she expressed the same pleasure…

‘It’ll be easier if you relax.’

Of course, he knew. There was an impatient edge to the deep voice as he moved away from her, and she didn’t need to open her eyes to realise that he was shrugging out of his clothes. Yet how could she do as he was suggesting without giving herself away? Or, worse, making him think that she was entirely wanton?

When he came back to her, though, peeling the last barrier of satin from her body, the touch of his warm flesh against hers was like an electric charge to her senses, and she stifled a gasp, jaw clenched against the sweetness piercing her lower body, as he suddenly dipped his head to her breast.

‘Oh, please…’ It came out as a shuddering protest against the insidiously sweet torture of his mouth.

Eyes shuttered, hair spread like fiery silk across the pillow, she waited tensely as he moved. If only he would end it now—get it over with before her body betrayed her…

‘Look at me.’

His imperative tone broke through her silent struggle. His eyes were a deep, inky blue. His usually groomed hair was ruffled, his features impassioned, and the skin over those prominent cheekbones was taut, flushed with need.

‘Are you always so uptight when you’re making love? What does a man have to do to relax you? Show me what you want.’ His voice seemed to shudder from within the deep wall of his chest. ‘What is it you want? Show me, Nadine.’

You! She censored the thought from her brain before it could take shape. She had no right to think it! No right at all! But the burn of his lips across the flat plane of her stomach and the deep persuasion of his voice were robbing her of her last vestige of control. Her need seemed to explode inside her, shattering her restraint into fragments, galvanising her into a sobbing, writhing surrender that she couldn’t have kept from him any longer any more than she could have flown.

I’m sorry, Lisa! The thought was blown away like dust in the wind as she succumbed to the forces of a passion matched only by the force and power of the man who was suddenly moving, claiming her, unlocking the mysteries of her body.

Desire swamped her like a violent storm so that she knew only a sweet pleasure and a sudden pain—pain, brief and sharp—before the consuming, spiralling ecstasy of his possession.

When he rolled away from her some time afterwards, got up without saying a word, Nadine eased herself up on an elbow, half-afraid to look at him. Was he angry? Shocked—as she was—by that tempestuous and involuntary response?

The soft lights from the dressing-table threw a warm glow over his magnificent nakedness and she glanced away, embarrassed by her shameless surrender to it as he shrugged into a white towelling robe.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were…That I’d be the first?’ He sounded puzzled, mildly censuring.

‘I didn’t think it was important,’ she responded, with a little shrug. She couldn’t tell him that she had been embarrassed about that, too.

‘Maybe not to anyone else, but I would have thought where you were concerned it might have been.’

His eyes were hard and penetrating. Trying to see through her, she thought shudderingly, suddenly vibrantly conscious of how she must look in the aftermath of their lovemaking—skin flushed and dewy, hair wild and damp with perspiration. But at least he didn’t appear to have guessed the truth.

‘What makes a girl sacrifice something so rare and precious simply for money? And don’t tell me it wasn’t, because if that was the case you’d probably have relinquished it long ago.’

Nadine’s shoulders stiffened. ‘That’s insulting.’

‘It wasn’t meant to be.’

‘No?’ Her chin came up, nostrils dilated with wounded anger. She couldn’t forget how opposed he had been to Lisa’s suggestion of surrogate motherhood in the beginning. Lisa had had to beg him until he’d finally given in. She wasn’t sure, but she guessed what he probably thought about women who accepted payment in exchange for a child—about her, Nadine Kendall—and that frenzied response to him just now wouldn’t have helped to change his opinion in any way.

‘What I mean is that you’re a very beautiful girl.’ He opened the mini-fridge, took out a bottle of chilled water. ‘Don’t try and tell me that a lot of men haven’t tried to seduce you.’

‘No…I mean…some.’

So he wasn’t immune to her femininity, even if he had always displayed no more than a cool imperviousness towards her. After all, she was Lisa’s friend, not his. As for involvements, even if she had met a man who had been able to rid her of this mindless infatuation with Cameron, she would have had no desire to rush into one with her eyes closed. A serious relationship—which was all she would settle for—needed to be right. She’d seen from the break-up of her parents’ marriage how devastating and painful a mistake could be.

She heard the still water tumble into a glass, her gaze following the strong line of his throat as he took a long draught before offering her some. She shook her head.

‘The main reasons for sacrificing one’s virginity are usually love, passion, or just plain and simple curiosity. So what makes you different, Nadine? Why has the importance of money suddenly triumphed over the other three?’

His gaze was too intense and she looked away, like a witness with a guilty secret to hide, plagued not only by her reckless emotions but also by the memory of her mother’s pinched features, her laboured breathing; by her desperate plea when she’d failed to talk Nadine out of paying for her treatment.

‘Don’t tell anyone what I’m having done—how serious this is. I couldn’t bear to be thought of as an invalid.’

She ventured a look at Cameron. He had a reputation in court for being pitiless. Yet even he would feel some, she thought, if she told him about the heart condition that was threatening her mother’s life. Only a by-pass operation could offer her the chance of recovery, but the scheduled surgery had been postponed because of the ever-increasing cut-backs in the Health Service, and Nadine had had to watch, helpless, as her mother’s health gradually deteriorated, aware that even the simplest task now made her breathless and fatigued.

Yes, somehow she felt he’d understand. Only she couldn’t go back on the promise she had made to her mother. And not only that, Lisa had been her friend since childhood—had known both her parents—and if it ever got back to Dawn Kendall how she, Nadine, was financing her forthcoming operation…

Inwardly, she shuddered. Even with the payment Cameron had already made to her she’d met enough maternal objection when she’d let her mother believe she was simply using her savings to help meet the hospital’s fees. But if she ever discovered the truth…

‘Does there have to be a reason, m’lud?’ she parried lightly in response to his query about sacrificing herself. And in a desperate bid to keep her secret—change the subject—with a nervous little laugh she uttered flippantly, ‘Any more questions for the defence?’

Those shrewd eyes narrowed speculatively as he put down his glass. ‘I’m not a lord.’ Unpretentiously he drew attention to the way she had addressed him. ‘And certainly not a judge—yours or anybody else’s.’

But he was, she thought, sensing the assessment going on inside that brilliant brain. Fear was leaping through her—fear of another shaming submission and of the threat to her emotions that she neither wanted nor welcomed—as he slipped off his robe and, sliding back into bed with her, said with meaningful softness, ‘And no, there’ll be no more questions.’

Unusually edgy, Nadine started as the phone rang in the little Dickensian office.

‘Hi! It’s me. I thought I’d be back earlier than this but the car had other ideas.’

Nadine smiled, relaxing at the sound of her boss’s friendly voice. Recently qualified, Larry Lawson had joined the firm two years after she had, when her old boss had retired, and he promised to be a brilliant solicitor provided he kept a rather rebellious streak in check.

‘How’s your mother? Is she better?’

She had told him on Friday that she was spending the weekend with her mother as she wasn’t too well, but she had refrained from mentioning either the fact that she had spent those two days by her mother’s bedside in a private south coast hospital, or the vital surgery the woman had undergone during the previous week.

‘She’ll be OK,’ she responded, her chest tightening painfully as she said it. If only she could be sure!

‘In that case, could you prepare that brief I dictated to counsel as soon as you can? Thinking of which, I saw the man in action in court this morning—you know, that Laser v Brompton case? Holy mackerel! He isn’t called Hunter for nothing—the way that man hounds after the truth! It looks as though she might have been lying all the way through the proceedings, and if she has—heaven help her! He’ll make mincemeat of her!’

A sensation shivered through Nadine beneath the chic blue pin-striped suit. As he had done with her? Oh, not with that same skill of ruthless intellect for which he was renowned, but sensually, through a total devastation of her senses. Because he had made love to her again, several times during that pre-arranged weekend together, silently and clinically, without words, while she, after that first shameful loss of control, had been unable to withhold the response he’d so easily wrung from her.

And when he had driven her home at the end of that weekend he had seemed more aloof and remote from her than he had ever done, when she had wanted…what? Affection from him? No, of course not! she assured herself with biting self-castigation. He was another woman’s husband. Therefore, what right had she to feel so stupidly hurt and alone?

‘Hello? Are you still there?’

‘Yes…yes, I am.’ She had forgotten Larry on just hearing Cameron’s name. And that was wrong, a strong sense of integrity served to remind her. But she hadn’t seen or heard from him since that weekend, and that was nearly four weeks ago now. ‘I’d better ring off. I’m expecting another call,’ she advised a little tensely, omitting to add that what she was waiting for was the result of the test she had had done last week. When the phone rang again, the instant she put it down, she almost leapt out of her chair.

Her fingers were still trembling five minutes later as they picked out Lisa’s home number, her heart thudding, her thoughts chaotically numb. She had been praying she would be pregnant. She didn’t think she could take an assault on her senses by Cameron Hunter a second time without disastrous consequences to her emotions, though he had managed to remain entirely detached and uncommitted. And now…

‘Lisa?’ She took a deep breath and gave her friend the news.

‘Wow! What a stud I’m married to! He certainly didn’t waste any time with you, did he?’ Lisa responded—rather indelicately, Nadine thought, in the circumstances, though her friend sounded delighted enough. ‘So you’ll have the baby…I must admit that’s the only worry I would have had about carrying if I had been able to conceive—the fear of blowing up like a balloon and staying like it for ever afterwards.’ Lisa laughed, reminding Nadine of her friend’s constant battle to keep a check on her rather curvy figure. ‘I’ll get everything arranged. Nursery, nanny, toys, soundproof room. Only joking!’ she added quickly. ‘I might even decide to stay home and play full-time mother.’

Lisa was twenty-seven, three years older than herself, and had worked as a legal executive in the same law practice, which was how she, Nadine, had come to hear about the secretarial vacancy in the first place. At the time she had welcomed the move away from the man who was occupying too much of her thoughts and who was scarcely aware of her existence, fearing that her own violent crush on him was in danger of prejudicing her work.

It was Lisa who had brought him back into her life after meeting him at a party; Lisa who had been just as hopelessly ensnared by the terrifying strength of his attraction. After that he’d sometimes come into the office, or call at Lisa’s while Nadine was there. He’d been aloof, yet somehow more indulgent towards her then than when she had been working with him, little knowing how his lethal sexuality was affecting her as he watched her blossoming into full womanhood.

Sometimes, when he had smiled at her, it had been as if the earth was tipping off its axis. Indeed, the responses rocketing through her had been so profound she had deluded herself that he had to be feeling something too. But it was Lisa he had married so suddenly and unexpectedly four years ago; Lisa who had stayed on with the firm as an unwitting yet constant reminder of all Nadine had lost, with her bubbling happiness and her ceaseless fervour for him. She had only left on her doctor’s advice—rather futile, as it had turned out—that less pressure of work might bring her the child she wanted.

‘Am I the first to know? Oh, great!’ Having forced herself back to the present, Nadine could almost feel her friend’s joy. ‘Then let me tell Cameron. It’ll be as though I’m having this baby myself!’

Wistfully Nadine smiled. She could understand how Lisa felt. But her own emotions seemed numbed-strangely shell-shocked—as though she hadn’t yet begun again to feel.

‘You were certainly worth every cent, Nadine, so now you can go out and blow it! Plus you’ve had the added bonus of knowing what it’s like to sleep with Cameron Hunter!’

‘Lisa!’ Nadine felt hot colour invading her cheeks. She didn’t want to think about that. Nor could she tell her friend about her mother’s operation, and the expensive after-care on which the money was being spent.

‘Oh, come on, don’t be coy about it. I know you must have been simply dying to! If you aren’t admitting to it, then you’re the only one of my friends who hasn’t. But it does have its disadvantages, I can assure you now. As far as any other man’s concerned, you’ll be spoilt for life!’

Embarrassed, Nadine laughed awkwardly. Didn’t she already know that? ‘Be seeing you, Lisa,’ she said quickly, winding up the conversation and putting down the phone, wondering suddenly if Lisa had been drinking.

* * *

She was watching the end of a gripping thriller when the telephone rang that evening, the lateness of the hour making her heart lurch apprehensively as she crossed the small sitting room and switched off the television set to answer it. Supposing it was the hospital?

‘Nadine?’ The last thing she had expected to hear was Cameron Hunter’s deep voice. ‘Nadine, you sound worried. Are you all right?’

‘Yes. Yes, I’m fine.’ Hastily she pulled herself together. If she wanted to keep her troubles from anyone, it was him.

‘I believe congratulations are in order. Lisa told me. Any problems? Or are you feeling all right?’

Funny that he should be the one to ask that, she thought, because Lisa hadn’t.

‘No, none,’ she assured him, even if her knees did feel like jelly! And not only, she realised shamefully, from the dread of bad news about her mother.

‘You sound breathless. I hope I didn’t get you out of bed.’ There was more than courteous concern behind that remark.

‘No, you didn’t.’ Pique turned her cheeks to flame. She might be just a convenient womb for his child but he did, after all, have exclusive knowledge of her sleeping habits, and therefore shouldn’t have had the audacity to suggest anything else!

‘Good.’ Was that double-edged too? She wasn’t sure. ‘I merely wanted you to know that I intend to see that you get all the necessary care and assistance you need over the next eight months or so. I’ll have your medical fees taken care of.’ As he—albeit unwittingly—had made it possible for her to take care of her mother’s? ‘Any problems, ring me…or Lisa.’

‘Thanks.’ She wasn’t sure whether she had imagined that slight hesitancy in his voice. He sounded so coldly practical, though, as though he were simply dealing with one of his clients. But then that was all this was to him, wasn’t it? she thought poignantly. A business transaction. Even so, an unexpected wave of loneliness washed over her after he had rung off, so crushing that she found herself giving in to a sudden bout of tears, which she tried to justify as only the result of her condition coupled with the worries about her mother.

Days tumbled into a week, then two, during which Nadine arranged for her mother’s convalescence in a private nursing home nearer London, where she could receive the necessary care as well as the cardiac rehabilitation she needed at the nearby hospital—although Nadine was concerned to hear that her recovery was being impeded by a slight cold.

‘You’re looking downcast today,’ Larry remarked one morning, coming into Nadine’s office and catching her sitting at her desk in one of her anxious reveries. ‘What do I have to do to whip up a smile on that lovely face?’ And, with mischief in his eyes, ‘Ever been beaten with a will?’

Nadine ducked to avoid the rolled white parchment he was brandishing, his jocular play on words producing the desired effect.

‘You’ll never endear yourself to our senior partner,’ she chided laughingly. Beneath a wild mat of curly brown hair an ear-ring, she noticed, had made itself evident since the previous day.

‘Thank goodness for that!’ Larry laid a hand on his heart. ‘He’s not my type. But while we’re on the subject of being clobbered, you’ll be interested to know Hunter won that case for us—hot on the heels of his success with the Laser-Brompton affair. He must be every opponent’s nightmare. You should go and watch him handling a case some time, if you haven’t done so yet.’

A rush of nausea engulfed her, piercingly acute, and as she staggered to her feet to try and make it to the Ladies’ she heard Larry’s voice coming anxiously, distantly, behind her. ‘Gosh! You look ghastly! Are you all right?’

She was, eventually, and refused his advice to go home as well as his invitation to lunch.

‘Perhaps you had better go easy on the rations with an upset turn,’ he accepted, his obvious concern making her feel guilty in having led him to believe that that was all it was.

She felt better after grabbing a quick sandwich in town, but there was one problem worrying her that she had to straighten out with herself, once and for all.

Strong as her crush on Cameron Hunter had been as a teenager, she had been brutally forced to mature after he had married Lisa, resigning herself to the fact that he belonged to someone else. But ever since that weekend, when he had taken her to that hotel, those old feelings for him had returned with frightening tenacity, making her heart pound every time she heard his name, her temperature rise every time she thought about the mind-blowing skill in the way he had made love to her. And that was both stupid and ill-advisable, she warned herself chasteningly. She had to gain control of herself-strive for the detached and adult attitude in all this that he was obviously managing to maintain.

However, fate, it seemed, was out to test her that day, she decided when, having bought a few things in one of the department stores, she suddenly found herself taking a detour through the mother and baby department.

How strange that she should find herself looking at this, she thought, hesitantly fingering a small white matinee jacket that was hanging on a rail.

When the three of them had talked about this baby in the beginning, Lisa had said she would want to keep the facts of its birth a secret from it, but Cameron had insisted that every child had a right to the truth about its origins. But how would her child feel when it asked its parents, ‘What happened to my real mother?’ How would it react to them saying, ‘She gave you up for cash.’

No! The negation was so strong that she thought she had spoken it aloud. She was being silly. Her baby was going to have loving parents, a far more comfortable and privileged existence than any she could provide. And it wouldn’t have reason to think too harshly of her, surely—even if it didn’t realise it, it had been conceived so that its own grandmother might have the chance to live.

She turned away from the coat, but there were other things to torment her. Little jumpsuits. Rattles. Cuddly toys.

God! She needed a deep breath to stem the acute emotion that suddenly welled up inside her. She hadn’t reckoned on so much feeling so soon. And supposing Mum didn’t…

She couldn’t bring herself to form the thought in her mind. But this was Dawn Kendall’s grandchild she was carrying. Part of her mother. Part of herself. Perhaps the only blood relative she might have one day. Would she be strong enough when the time came simply to hand it over?

Determinedly she got a grip on her recalcitrant emotions, urging herself away from the baby department. Regardless of her own feelings, and the way she felt about the child’s father, she had entered into an agreement-had accepted money in part-payment under that agreement as well as giving Lisa the promise of hope in her childless marriage. She would—had to—remain detached.

Therefore, she decided, it would be best to avoid any further excursions into town by herself.

So when Larry rang her at the flat the following morning and invited her to go swimming with him during the lunch-break, happily she agreed, packing a swimsuit in her bag before she left for the office.

‘Very nice,’ he approved that lunchtime, when she surfaced from under the chlorinated blue water at the sports centre. Her pregnancy hadn’t yet begun to show, although the initial changes in her body had given a firm roundness to her breasts beneath the emerald satin of her swimsuit, temporarily giving her the voluptuous figure she had always envied Lisa. ‘Ever thought of getting involved with an up-and-coming solicitor?’

Larry’s eyes continued to appraise her, his dark hair plastered to his head. ‘Good prospects. Good sense of humour. And an immediate discount on any legal fees.’ He grinned.

‘Only if I can wear the ear-rings!’ Nadine teased, swimming away, because she knew Larry wasn’t really serious. At least, she hoped he wasn’t! Larry Lawson was certainly too unconventional for her!

She was walking back with him through the car park when she noticed the small white BMW convertible parked a little distance away, recognised the cerise silk blouse of the woman sitting in the driving seat.

‘It’s Lisa!’ Nadine hesitated, looking apologetically at the slim, rangy man beside her. ‘Would you mind if I just pop over and have a few words? I’ll see you in the car.’

She didn’t have any special reason for wanting to see Lisa, but she didn’t want her friend to drive off without knowing she was there. That was until she drew nearer the car, and then she stopped in her tracks, suddenly feeling rooted to the spot.

It was Lisa, all right. Nadine couldn’t fail to recognise the chic, short brown hair, raked through with blonde streaks and hard masculine fingers as her friend gave herself up to the arms of the man who was kissing her so passionately. Only it wasn’t Cameron!

Paralysed with shock, for a few moments Nadine couldn’t move. Then, gathering her faculties together, not wanting Lisa to see her, she tore blindly back across the car park.

How could she? The question harrowed her along with the nausea that sprang from more than just the early stages of her pregnancy. How could she? Lisa and another man?

She caught Larry’s surprised, ‘You weren’t long,’ as she climbed into the ancient purring Renault.

And all she could answer was, ‘No.’ She couldn’t believe it! Why would a woman married to a man like Cameron—a woman who had everything—want to…?

‘Are you OK?’ Larry directed a curious glance at her as he pulled out of the car park.

‘Yes,’ she answered mechanically. Only she wasn’t. Revulsion was sickening her. Revulsion and bewilderment, and the already dawning significance of the situation.

She was having a baby. The baby Lisa wanted. The baby she, Nadine, had thought was going to a loving, stable home with loving parents. But Cameron couldn’t know about this! Intuitively she knew he would never have planned a child if he had thought his marriage wasn’t one hundred per cent rock-solid, and she could never have believed Lisa would have—until now. But had she ever really known Lisa?

The seatbelt pulled painfully across her breasts as Larry braked behind the car he had been about to overtake.

‘Sorry.’ He grimaced apologetically. ‘This chap in front shouldn’t be on the road.’

Nadine forced a wan smile, still deep in the mire of her thoughts about Lisa. Lisa and that other man. She had always known her friend was volatile, perhaps even a little neurotic at times recently, but she had put that down to Lisa’s desperation for a baby. And now…

Absently she brushed her damp hair back from her face, staring sightlessly at the busy road ahead. Lisa was deceiving them both—her and Cameron. So how could she, Nadine, hand over her own baby to a woman who was obviously unstable? Deliver it into a home that could wind up broken—just as her own had been?

She scarcely knew what she was doing that afternoon. The decision to which she had come was something that had to be acted upon—and quickly—and her insides were churning queasily as she rang the number of Cameron’s chambers.

What was she going to say to him? I need to see you? And if he agreed to her request, what then?

A mixture of contrary emotions ran through her as a feminine voice told her, ‘I’m afraid he’s still in court. Can I get him to call you when—and if—he comes back?’

‘No!’ Her insides were tying themselves in knots. She didn’t want him ringing her at the office. This matter was too private to risk discussing with anyone else around, apart from which she didn’t think she could stand the suspense of waiting for his call.

‘I’ll try again later,’ she volunteered, feeling like a coward, but as she put down the phone she knew she couldn’t just sit around hoping for him to come back.

She asked Larry if he’d mind her leaving early, and was relieved when he instantly assumed she was still feeling off-colour from the previous day, which ruled out the need for any further explanations, and within minutes she was on her way to the courts.

Hot, her pulse racing, she nevertheless slipped on her light summer jacket as she entered the great Gothic-style building. A security man searched her bag—along with those of other visitors and tourists—before allowing her in through the awesome grandeur of the main hall.

‘Do you know where I’ll find Cameron Hunter?’ Urgently she asked what looked like a member of court staff, and above the echoing sounds of other voices and general activity he started to say something, just as a more familiar voice spoke from behind.

‘Nadine?’

Her breath seemed to lock in her lungs as she swung to face him. Black-gowned, file under his arm, the familiar wig crowning those strong, disciplined features, he looked the intimidating advocate that these days even his more experienced colleagues held in the greatest esteem. That ruthless bearing about him served only to heighten that devastating sexual aura surrounding him.

‘What is it?’ His shoes made a light tap on the mosaic paving as he came towards her, as austere a figure as his stern forebears, staring down at her from the imposing walls. ‘Is anything wrong?’

Nadine swallowed. How could she tell him without incriminating Lisa? How could she explain her decision without giving him a reason why?

‘I—I can’t keep our agreement.’ That wigged forehead creased as though he couldn’t quite grasp what she was saying. ‘I’m keeping the baby.’ It came out too bluntly with the effort of trying to keep her voice steady, and her stomach muscles tightened as Cameron’s eyes glittered like dark sapphires.

‘You what?’

Oh, heaven! What could she say? I love it! And I can’t give my baby up to a woman who can’t even be faithful to her husband! How could she tell him that without causing serious consequences to his marriage?

‘I’m keeping it,’ she repeated tremulously, shuddering from the daunting challenge written in every hard line of his face.

‘And just what—?’

‘Hunter!’

He broke off as someone called to him and as he glanced towards the similarly robed man who was gesturing to him, saying something about seeing the judge, Nadine seized her opportunity and fled.

Oh, what a stupid, stupid thing to do! Breathless, blood racing, she came out into the bright July sunshine, anxiously glancing back over her shoulder with a sigh of relief to realise that Cameron hadn’t chased after her. He probably had more pressing business with the judge. But if her decision had angered him, then running away like that would only have incensed him further, she realised dauntingly. Only what else could she have done?

She had no sound explanation to offer for her decision to keep the baby—only the truth. And there was no way that she was going to tell him that! If Lisa was playing around it was hardly her business, or her right to bring it to his attention. What was her business, though, was making certain that her baby had a secure and happy home. And if that meant having one parent instead of two, as originally planned, then it would have to be.

Still unable to face him, though, when she hadn’t yet come to terms with Lisa’s betrayal, she went back to the flat, packed a bag, and, worried that he might call, took off for the suburbs to be near her mother for the weekend on the first available train.

When she arrived back late on Sunday night it was with the knowledge that the threatened cold following her mother’s operation hadn’t developed into anything serious. Consequently it was the memory of Lisa in the car park with that other man which kept her awake for hours. That, and what she herself was going to say to Cameron when he demanded to see her—as he undoubtedly would, she thought, with a cold apprehension stealing through her.

Finally, though, she drifted into a restless slumber, waking with such a severe bout of morning sickness that she had to telephone the office to say she wouldn’t be in until later.

It was halfway through the morning before she began to feel better, but her stomach muscles tightened painfully when the doorbell rang just as she was preparing to leave.

‘Going somewhere?’ Cameron’s gaze flitted coldly over her short-sleeved white blouse and beige skirt, and the matching jacket she had thrown over her arm.

‘I—I was just leaving for the office.’ Looking unusually pale, she took a step back as he thrust his way in uninvited.

‘The office can wait.’ He threw the door closed behind him, and a contrary mixture of fear and desolation shivered through Nadine. On Friday he’d looked angry. Today he was looking at her with an emotion almost akin to hatred, his voice purposefully soft as he said, ‘You aren’t going anywhere.’

He seemed big and imposing in her tiny hallway, memory serving to remind her, as her eyes registered the impeccable cut of his dark suit, that he had never actually been in her flat before.

‘You’ve already had half the morning off. Another hour isn’t going to make any difference—only to the answers you’re going to give me!’

Apprehensive, Nadine took another step back, feeling the sudden cool barrier of the wall through her thin blouse. So he’d telephoned the office first.

‘Cameron—I know you’ve a right to be angry…’

‘Angry?’ He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Oh, I’m not angry! I’m downright disgusted!’ She gasped as he moved disturbingly close, his hands coming up, one on either side of her, so that she was imprisoned against the wall. ‘You come and tell me you’re going to keep that baby, without even having the guts to stay and explain why, and then spend the whole weekend conveniently out of reach-and probably at my expense!’

‘That’s not true!’ His words cut into her like shards of jagged glass. His closeness was making her head swim, evoking feelings—memories—of an intimacy she didn’t want to remember.

‘Isn’t it?’ His mouth was a slash of disdain. ‘Then where the hell were you? I’ve been ringing—calling round since you ran out on me on Friday. Where have you been? In hiding? Afraid to face me, Nadine?’ His gaze raked icily over the tense lines of her face. ‘I wonder why?’

His tone had grown so unnervingly soft that she shuddered visibly. He’d judged her actions correctly, if not her motives!

‘Hasn’t a woman the right to want to keep her child?’ she uttered, her green eyes holding his unwaveringly, in spite of herself. ‘It’s something that takes over. A maternal instinct…’

‘Maternal instincts be hanged!’ Tremblingly she shrank from his palpable anger. ‘You’ll have to do better than that, Nadine. And why didn’t you tell Lisa? I thought she and you were supposed to be friends. Why come to me with your cold-hearted little message? Or did even the self-centred Nadine Kendall have enough sensitivity to realise that she wouldn’t be able to take it?’

She looked at him, scared. Oh, God! Please don’t let her actions have done anything to…

‘Stop piling on the innocence, Nadine. She was counting on that baby—and you know it! Do you realise the depths of frustration and disappointment she had to go through—the desperation she had to feel to have to resort to asking another woman to provide her with the baby she couldn’t conceive herself? And suddenly to be told she wasn’t going to have it after all—’ She could feel his loathing in the breath that shuddered through his lungs, in the angry, pulsing heat of his body. ‘You’ve broken up my marriage, you mercenary, calculating little bitch! And if you think you’re going to rob me of my child as well as wrecking my home, you’ve got another think coming!’

Nadine stared at him, eyes disbelieving. Lisa—gone? True, she’d seen her in the car park, kissing that other man. But leaving Cameron…

‘It wasn’t my fault,’ she uttered meekly, stunned both by the knowledge that Lisa would actually want to end her marriage and the sudden cold fear that Cameron might try to take the baby away.

‘No?’ Clearly he wasn’t going to accept that, she realised despairingly, feeling a little less threatened when he lowered his arms, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘You think you’re blameless?’

‘Yes! I mean…’ Oh, goodness! What was she trying to say? She’d only been doing what she’d thought was best for the baby—what any mother in the same situation would have done. But if Cameron believed Lisa was so innocent, then let him carry on thinking it! It wasn’t her place to put him straight. He’d hardly thank her for it, anyway. ‘I’m sorry,’ was all she could offer him, rather lamely.

‘Sorry?’ He rocked back on his heels, contempt in every hard inch of him. ‘Are you trying to tell me you didn’t have this planned from the very beginning? If Lisa was right, and you’re as anti-men as she had me believe—’

‘She said that?’

‘She hardly needed to. It’s patently obvious.’ She barely heard his scathing response, still trying to come to terms with Lisa saying something that was totally untrue. ‘You never go out with anyone—not regularly-only the odd, privileged male you might condescend to allow to date you when you’re feeling like some masculine company. So how did you go about choosing the father of your baby? Were you looking for a particular kind of pedigree? Or was it the thought of the five-figure cheque that appealed to the virgo intacta?’

The report that rang through the tiny hall was like the crack of a whip. Open-mouthed, hand smarting, Nadine stared at the reddening mark on his cheek, and she gave a small, frightened cry as he grabbed her, pushing her back against the wall.

‘Don’t you dare raise your hand to me, you cheap, double-crossing little vixen! All that talk about honour!’ His hands on her upper arms were bruising, frighteningly powerful, his contemptuous reminder of that night in that Essex hotel scorching her cheeks with shame. ‘You used me!’

‘That’s not true!’

‘No?’ His fingers tightened relentlessly on her bare flesh. ‘You wanted a child without the inconvenience of a husband. But may I remind you that I’m that child’s father, and I’ll fight you for custody every step of the way?’

Panic filled her eyes and she said desperately, ‘You can’t make me give it up!’

‘Legally, no.’ Of course. He knew the law—better than anyone. ‘Any more than you can extract any more cash from me if you change your mind and decide to. But if you think you can take my money and keep that baby, then I’ll have you know now that I’ll have my money’s worth out of you in other ways!’

‘No!’ Her hands came up to try and hold him off when she saw the threatening purpose in his eyes, but he was too strong for her, his body pinning her to the wall, his mouth coming down on hers with angry, humiliating intent.

His lips were punishing, the hands that had been holding her cruelly against him suddenly ripping at the collar of her blouse.

Dear heaven! He thought her no better than a whore! she thought wildly, her senses ravaged by the scent and heat and anger emanating from him, by that angry mouth against her throat, against her shoulder. Only her frenzied ‘No!’ seemed finally to drag him back to his senses.

Releasing her, and so abruptly that she staggered back against the wall, he turned away from her with a shuddering imprecation, as though he was revolted by her-by himself, for his own loss of control.

‘Do what you will,’ he snarled, contempt twisting his mouth. ‘Go where you will—to the other side of the world if you’ve a mind to. But I’ll find you.’ And as he turned to leave, through a blanket of fear and dizzying nausea, she heard his intimidating promise, ‘As long as you have my child you’ll never be rid of me, Nadine!’

CHAPTER TWO

STIFLED by the heat in the overcrowded train, Nadine stood clinging to the handgrip, praying for her station to emerge through the darkness of the Underground as a wave of sickness washed over her.

What was it they said? That it only lasted three months? Well, roll on three months! she thought wistfully as her stomach lurched with the rolling motion of the train. But what then?

With a little shiver of reluctance she recalled Cameron’s resolute promise to her the previous day. Did he intend to fight her for custody eventually, as he’d threatened to do, even without Lisa? Knowing, as he’d already admitted, that he would probably have no chance—or very little—of succeeding? Or did he despise her so much for being—as he believed—instrumental in destroying his marriage, that he intended to make her pay in some other humiliating way?

She fought a cold, queasy fear as she remembered his remark about taking his money’s worth, recalled the hostility of his kisses before he had finally gained command of himself again, and she was glad when at last the train whined to a standstill and she was out of the Underground. Although her troubles were only compounded by the news which was waiting for her at the office.

‘Larry’s gone,’ Marion, the junior partner’s secretary, came into her tiny office to tell her. ‘He had words with our senior early this morning and walked out. I think it was the ear-ring that finally did it.’ The young woman offered a sympathising smile. ‘I thought I ought to warn you, though…’ She hesitated, as though searching for the right words. ‘I heard the old man telling the other partners he wouldn’t be replacing him…So I don’t quite know where that leaves you.’

Redundant, Nadine thought with a despairing grimace. She had her worst fears confirmed within minutes of the other girl’s revelation and by that lunchtime she had cleared out her desk and left.

Not that she had been compelled to, she reflected when she was on her way to register with the nearest secretarial agency; they had given her the choice of working until the end of the month. But to avoid awkward questions she had planned to leave anyway, before her pregnancy started to show, and so this way, she decided, was best. At least if she was working for an agency suspicions wouldn’t be aroused if her morning sickness sometimes prevented her from getting in some days until after ten!

Fortunate enough to secure a temporary assignment starting the very next day, she found herself working in a very plush insurance office on the other side of town.

She had given the convalescent home the agency’s number in case someone should need to contact her urgently. She was disappointed, however, to have received no contact from Lisa, though she had been only half expecting to, nor a mere telephone call from Larry—if only to express regrets over putting her out of a job!

Still, he was probably too busy looking for one himself, she thought wryly, coming out of the modern office with two other girls at the end of the week. Her companions’ animated, ‘Ooh, what a car! What a man!’ coupled with, ‘Friend of yours, Nadine?’ drew her attention to the gleaming black Mercedes parked at the kerb, whose driver’s window was whirring smoothly open.

‘Hello, Nadine.’ Cameron’s smile was coolly reserved. ‘Get in. I’ll take you home.’

Nadine’s hackles rose at his arrogance in assuming that she was going straight home or that she would even step into his car after the way he had treated her the other day. But her colleagues were responding to that supreme masculine confidence in a way that told her they would take him up on his offer if she didn’t, and the last thing she wanted was to make a scene in front of them, so reluctantly she obeyed, her senses instantly assailed by the light, evocative scent of his cologne mingling with the expensive leather of the upholstery.

‘I’m surprised you haven’t got your own transport by now,’ was his casual comment after he had reminded her to fasten her seatbelt and was pulling away from the kerb.

What did he mean? That he had paid her well enough to afford to? she thought, and decided to dismiss it, giving him the benefit of the doubt by responding with, ‘Driving’s a nightmare in London. I don’t think it’s worth the hassle. Also, it was a choice of running a car or having a decent place to live and I chose the second.’

‘A case of priorities?’

She nodded, wondering if he’d ever had to make similar choices. His car was automatic, too, she remembered from last time, trying not to think about that devastating weekend with him as she watched him drive, not needing to change gear, manoeuvring the big car in and out of the rush-hour traffic with an ease that made a mockery of her statement about driving being a nightmare. Instinctively she knew that everything he did would be effortless.

‘Why did you leave your job?’ For a second that blue gaze lanced across her, piercingly interrogative as it rested on the fine beige cotton of her suit, the rich sheen of her sun-burnished hair. ‘Hoping to avoid any unwanted communication with the father of your child? Is a domestic move on the agenda as well?’

‘No, it isn’t!’ A flush washed over Nadine’s skin from the scathing quality of his remarks, and just to show him that she wasn’t going to be pushed around, she blurted out, ‘And what if it were? It’s absolutely no business of yours where I live—or how often I change my job. And for your information, Cameron, I happen to have been made redundant!’

Surprise lessened the dark austerity of his profile. ‘What happened?’

When she told him, unintentionally allowing disappointment over Larry’s failure to contact her to creep into her voice, he said, ‘Sounds about par for the course. Larry Lawson’s suffering from a severe case of immaturity—rebelling for rebellion’s sake against everything that’s got him where he is and that he’s privileged enough to be part of. He’s going to have to do some growing up if he’s going to succeed in law.’

‘Oh, really?’ A fiery wave cascaded over her shoulder as she turned to face him. ‘And I suppose you know him well enough to make such profound accusations about him?’ she breathed, indignation bringing her leaping rather too readily to her friend’s defence.

‘Only in so far as the few professional dealings I’ve had with him. And the fact that he comes from a long line of very competent solicitors. I know his father.’

‘You would.’

The obstinate thrust to her lower lip made him smile, the smile more that of a gloating conqueror than an ally. ‘What’s wrong, Nadine?’ His tone was smooth as he changed lanes and started signalling to take a right-hand turning. ‘Don’t you like it when someone stakes a claim on something that is rightfully theirs?’

He meant the baby, and on a small, desperate note she said, ‘It belongs to me as well.’

‘Yes.’ He ground the word through clenched teeth, as though he regretted having ever laid eyes upon her. ‘And as such we’ll discuss it. Where you’re going to live during the term of your pregnancy. What you’re going to do-because like it or not—it is my business, and while you’re carrying my child you’ll do what’s best for it, Nadine.’

She watched a black London cab making a U-turn through the busy traffic. Taxis got away with murder, she thought absently, because they had the gall.

‘Oh, don’t worry, I intend to!’ she retorted hotly, despite the sudden clutch of fear in her stomach that with this man there would be no turning round, no going back on anything he’d said.

‘Oh, yes, I forgot!’ He uttered a harsh, humourless laugh. ‘I’ve provided you with quite a little nest-egg, haven’t I?’

‘You’ll get it back!’ she promised vehemently, to herself as well as to Cameron. ‘Every last penny!’ Secretly, though, she despaired. She owed him a fortune, and from where she was sitting she couldn’t see a day when she would ever be out of his debt. ‘And as for looking after my baby, I can assure you I’m more than capable.’ Quickly she was changing the subject in an attempt to convey responsibility to him. ‘I’ve got a home. A job—’

‘For how long?’ He cast a disparaging glance at her as they came around the corner. ‘Look at you,’ he rasped, keenly aware of the pale, pinched look a more than usually bad day of nausea had given to her fine features. ‘You look all-in before you start. So what are you planning to do for the next six months? Go haring off to every corner of the city at a moment’s notice? Carry on as if you only had yourself to think about? Hardly a very responsible outlook for a woman in your condition. And what happens afterwards? After it’s born?’

His words stirred anxieties she was trying for the moment not to think about and, sticking her chin out defiantly, she murmured, ‘I’ll cope.’

‘Yes,’ he accepted on a harshly released breath. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’ There was hard disparagement in the deep voice, in the tough rigidity of his jaw. ‘In an expensive flat? With no transport? And what will you do when you’re out temping? Employ a nanny? You’ll be lucky even to be able to pay her bus-fare on a secretary’s pay! Or was that taken into consideration out of the money you squeezed out of me to father your child?’

Recoiling from his understandable accusation, she searched for some satisfactory answer. But only honesty could redeem her, she realised hopelessly, remaining silent as relentlessly he went on.

‘You’re going to wind up in a crummy little bed-sit-living off the state, Nadine. And I’ll be darned if I’ll allow any offspring of mine to endure an existence like I had. Shunted around from aunt to aunt while its mother’s off somewhere trying to earn a living. Living hand to mouth, trying to make ends meet. Wearing the stigma not only of illegitimacy but of deprivation…’ He laughed coarsely at the shock that had manifested itself on Nadine’s face. ‘Oh, yes. Didn’t you know?’

No, she hadn’t, she thought, stunned, unable wholly to believe it. The inimitable Cameron Hunter? Illegitimate? Poor?

‘So you didn’t.’

Her face must have told him that, she realised, while her brain was still deducing what mental strength and character must have brought him from such humble beginnings to occupy the respected position he held today. The knowledge only served to make her feel even more intimidated by him.

‘No, Lisa didn’t tell me,’ she said quietly.

‘I wonder why?’

Had she imagined that sudden drag of breath through his lungs, that sharpened edge to his voice? Or was she mistaking deep, masculine pain…?

‘Has she…? I mean, have you heard anything—?’ She broke off, hesitating, flinching as he came back with a swift, cutting retort.

‘Do you really care?’ Tension made the line of his cheek more prominent, whether from anger or some other personal emotion Nadine wasn’t sure. ‘Well, you’re going to be made to care—for the future of our child if nothing else,’ he promised with inexorable softness. ‘And just in case you’ve got any ideas of flitting off somewhere where you think I can’t reach you, you’re going to pack in both that job and that flat of yours and live under my roof—in my cottage—as originally arranged, until the child’s born!’

A surge of hot anger burned through Nadine’s veins from his supreme arrogance. ‘That’s what you think!’ she riposted determinedly. There was no way she was agreeing to that! He was right, though. She wanted to get as far away from him as she possibly could, to minimise the risk of his trying to take the baby away from her. ‘You can hardly force me to, can you?’ she challenged him on a small note of defiance.

And perhaps he realised it too, she thought, relieved when his mouth firmed in what she could only deduce was frustrated acknowledgment and he went on to ask in an almost bored tone, ‘How’s your mother keeping these days?’

Glancing out at the eternal queues at the bus-stops, the endless traffic, Nadine felt her body stiffen. ‘All right.’ It was difficult to lie—to pretend.

‘What did she say when you told her you were pregnant?’

She looked at him quickly. Why did he want to know that?

Unconsciously her fingers tightened around the handbag on her lap. ‘I haven’t,’ she answered, as nonchalantly as she was able.

‘Oh?’ Cursorily he glanced across at her, his gaze travelling down over the shallow rising of her breasts to her fingers curling tensely into the soft fabric of her bag. ‘But you’re going to? Or are you planning not to chance a visit home until after you’ve given birth?’

He sounded mildly amused and she said, ‘Of course I’ll tell her.’

‘But you won’t be telling her the absolute truth?’

She made a distinct effort to relax as she saw his glance stray casually to her hands again. ‘No,’ she responded cautiously, wondering why he had sounded so sure.

‘What are you going to tell her?’

‘I don’t know,’ she murmured, and was glad when he leaned across to close the central air-vents, because the exhaust fumes from a dusty van in front were making her feel sick.

He started talking casually about pollution then, and the growing congestion in the city—things she felt strongly enough about herself to be able to engage in sympathetic discussion with him until he turned into the street of smart, semi-detached houses, pulling up outside her flat.

‘There you are,’ he said almost congenially, a smile touching his lips as he clicked the handbrake into place, and then, surprisingly, pulled the keys out of the ignition. ‘Now, do as you’re told and go up and pack as many things as you’ll need to see you through a long stay in the country, because you’re moving into that cottage tonight!’

Startled flecks showed in Nadine’s green eyes as she stared at him. ‘By whose authority?’ she snapped, flabbergasted.

‘By your own glimmer of a conscience, Nadine.’ Leather squeaked softly as he turned to face her, one finely clad arm resting disturbingly across the back of her seat. ‘Unless, of course, you would prefer me to pen a very detailed and informative account of your behaviour to your mother—?’

‘You wouldn’t dare!’

He didn’t even need to answer that. Seeing the inexorable determination on that uncompromising mouth, Nadine realised now what he had been doing when he had asked those seemingly casual questions about her mother. He’d been testing the water, as the saying went-or her reaction anyway—understanding her body language with all the skill and shrewdness of his profession.

He’d obviously heard her telling Lisa all those weeks before not to mention their arrangement to Dawn Kendall if she, Nadine, did become pregnant; had heard her begging Lisa, making her promise. He’d clearly realised how desperate she’d been to keep it from her mother, even if he hadn’t known—still didn’t know—the reason why. And now she’d played right into his hands! she thought hopelessly, without seeing the manipulation behind those cleverly posed questions. Otherwise she could have said she’d already told her mother the truth, or that she was intending to. Anything but suffer this humiliating defeat.

‘You calculating bastard.’

‘Right on target.’ He smiled without warmth, bringing embarrassed colour to her cheeks as she realised the hardhitting implication of what she had just called him. ‘And as far as the adjective goes, that makes two of us, doesn’t it?’ he said smoothly, aware of her embarrassment as he got out and came round to open her door with a courtesy that surprised her in the circumstances.

It only took an hour for her to pack the things she needed to take, although she filled a large suitcase and a substantial-sized travelling bag.

‘Leave that,’ Cameron ordered when she went to pick it up to follow him down with her suitcase to the car.

‘Why? Scared I might overdo things?’ she couldn’t help taunting sarcastically, but he ignored it, stooping to pick up the travelling bag with her case and carrying them both effortlessly downstairs.

She had been in the bathroom, checking that she hadn’t forgotten anything, and heard Cameron coming back just as she came out into the hall.

‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ he advised grimly, ‘before we go any further, and that’s that I don’t care an iota what happens to you. But I am concerned for the welfare of my child, and while you’re carrying it you’ll take every possible precaution to protect it. Do I make myself clear?’

Perfectly, she thought, trying to deny just how much his confessed lack of concern for her had hurt. And, of course, she was going to take every step necessary to safeguard her baby. But she didn’t tell him that, snapping back instead, ‘What will you do? Pass sentence on me if I don’t?’ And with that deliberately provocative remark she brushed past him with her chin in the air, out to the gleaming saloon.

It was dark when they arrived at the cottage—Cameron’s insistence on stopping for a meal en route, which she had felt too nauseous to eat, which he had interpreted as rebellion, having necessitated a good hour’s break in their journey.

Now, as they pulled up in the country lane outside the solitary little house, Nadine’s stomach seemed to come up into her mouth.

‘Would you give me a minute?’ she uttered as he started getting out of the car, despising herself for the way it had come out—as an almost feeble appeal. She didn’t want to make a fuss—show any weakness in front of him.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I feel sick.’ Suddenly she was forced to swallow her pride and tell him, leaning sharply forward, her hand clamped over her mouth.

‘I thought that was a morning problem,’ he remarked when she sat back again.

‘So did I.’ Feeling easier, she uttered an ironic little laugh. ‘I think my body-clock’s stuck permanently on a.m. at the moment.’

‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’ He sounded surprisingly concerned, but she merely shrugged, deciding against reminding him of his earlier remark about not caring about her. ‘You’ve been to sleep,’ he said laconically—which was something, she thought, that she seemed to be doing all the time lately. ‘That might not have helped. Wait here.’

He got out of the car and she watched his tall, shadowy figure moving through the little gate, along the garden path; she heard the jangle of keys then the door opening, before light flooded through the aperture, spilling out across the step and two superb hydrangea bushes that were growing near the house.

‘Come on.’ The touch of his hand on her elbow was

gentle if not caring, and unwelcome sensations assailed her as she teetered unsteadily and felt a supportive arm go across her back.

‘I’m all right,’ she protested with mild vehemence, trying to pull away.

‘The devil you are.’ He swore roughly under his breath. ‘And it isn’t going to help not eating properly. You’re going to get something inside you,’ he asserted, that strong arm keeping her locked to his side as he guided her along the path.

‘I couldn’t,’ she uttered, her mind rejecting his electrifying nearness as much as her stomach rejected the thought of food.

‘You can and you will. You’ll eat little and often and drink plenty of fluids,’ he told her, surprising her with a knowledge of her condition she hadn’t expected him to possess. ‘You might think you can’t stomach anything, but it will help the nausea, believe me.’

On that, at least, she thought later, when she was sitting on the floral-patterned settee tucking into the dry toast and tea he had made her, he had been right, because the sickness had certainly begun to subside.

‘Did…you and Lisa come here for weekends?’ she asked hesitantly as he came in from the car with her luggage. The room, though spacious and well-furnished, reflected an old-world charm which was certainly not Lisa’s taste, she thought, remembering her friend’s liking for stark, contemporary designs.

‘No,’ he answered, and so tersely that she wondered if she should have mentioned it since he was still obviously blaming her for the break-up of his marriage. But then, in surprisingly neutral tones, he said, ‘Lisa never stayed here. This place belonged to an aunt of mine, and when she died last year it passed to me. I don’t get down here as often as I’d like, but it’s always been the perfect spot to come when I want to unwind and get life back into perspective. It’s also where I did a lot of my growing up.’

Of course. He had said he’d lived with various aunts, Nadine remembered, feeling the sudden throb of her pulse as her gaze clashed with his, the dark sapphire of his eyes holding hers with a hard, unsettling intensity.

What was he thinking? she wondered, weakened by a sexual magnetism she didn’t want to acknowledge. Because he had discarded his tie, loosened the pristine white shirt, so that she was disturbed by mental images of the last time she had seen him like that, in that other country house, but determinedly she pushed them out of her mind.

He might appeal to every feminine instinct she possessed, but she was only here with him now because of the consequences of that other time; because she was expecting his baby—the baby he had planned to share with Lisa. But he was still Lisa’s husband, and it was only because it was his baby that he was showing any concern or responsibility towards her, Nadine. What secret feelings she might harbour for him counted for nothing.

‘You look tired.’ Cameron’s voice was coolly detached. ‘I think you’d better go to bed. Come on, I’ll show you your room.’

His tone stirred a reckless rebellion in her, but she didn’t have the energy to argue and compliantly she went ahead of him, up the creaking stairs.

The room he showed her into had the same quaint charm as the sitting-room: the coverlet on the double bed matching the gaily floral curtains and valance, the predominant leafy greens picking out the natural green in the carpet.

‘The bathroom’s next door,’ he informed her, lifting her case up on to the chest beside the door. ‘If you need anything just call. I’m just along the corridor.’

Picking up on his last words, Nadine looked at him quickly. ‘Aren’t you…going back tonight?’ she asked, realising how foolish that sounded in view of the hour, and despairing of herself for letting him see how unsettled that made her feel as he smiled, mockingly aware.

‘No, Nadine, I’m not.’ He strode across to the bed where he deposited her travelling bag. ‘Were you imagining I was? Would you feel happier if the father of your child wasn’t around? Is that it?’

When she didn’t answer, too weary to launch herself into another verbal battle with him, he said, ‘Well, I’m going to be around—at every available opportunity. No child of mine is going to be deprived of its father-whether its mother likes it or not! So you’d better get used to the idea, sweetheart, and you’d better get used to it now!’

As he’d spoken he had tugged back the bedcovers on one side to reveal the crisp white pillowcases. Signs of a woman’s touch, Nadine couldn’t help thinking, although he had said Lisa didn’t come to the cottage. She guessed that he had someone in on a regular basis to clean.

‘You didn’t have to drag me away from my job—not so soon, anyway,’ Nadine protested tiredly, although feeling as she did at the moment she wasn’t totally averse to a break. ‘What am I supposed to do for the next few months, buried down here, miles from anywhere?’

‘I’m sure you’ll think of something,’ he drawled, pulling the chintzy curtains on the night-shrouded countryside. ‘And, as I said, I’ll make it my business to be around as often as I can. It might not be what you want, but you were certainly quick enough to agree to it when you were planning this little campaign of single motherhood for yourself. What you seemed to overlook was that it takes two to accomplish conception, and in any form of partnership you can’t have all your own way. When you’re over the worst and feeling better you can get back to your typewriter, if you feel inclined to, but I don’t see any point in your wasting all your valuable legal experience in some insurance office. You’ll probably find more job satisfaction—and certainly less risk to our child—working here, for me.’

Feeling the dressing-table immediately behind her, Nadine leaned back, with her hands on its smooth surface to steady herself, rocked by the absolute audacity of the man.

‘Why?’ she enquired brittly, too bruised and angered by his mistaken opinion of her even to try to defend herself, or to wonder exactly what he was proposing. ‘As surety? To make sure I pay back all the money you think I wheedled out of you? She finished with bitter cynicism, because—heaven help her!—she would. She didn’t know how. But somehow—some day—she would!

She caught her breath as he came too close for her to move away from the dressing-table, that elusive scent of him playing dangerous games with her senses as he caught her small chin between his thumb and forefinger and said, ‘Oh, you’ll pay.’ His tone was lethally soft. ‘But not in the way you’re imagining, Nadine. Money doesn’t even figure in the cost you’re going to have to settle with me. Now go to bed, like a good girl. Unless of course…’ His gaze strayed down across the inviting softness of the bed so that, panicking, she pushed at him with all her strength and caught his softly mocking laughter as he went out.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN Nadine awoke the sun was shining through a chink in the heavy floral curtains and, curious to see exactly where she was, she clambered out of bed.

The room obviously faced east, she realised as she pulled back the curtains, squinting from the dazzling rays of the sun. It was reflected almost blindingly by the gleaming bodywork of the Mercedes, which was parked beneath her window in the lane. On the other side, beyond a five-bar gate, fields stretched away to forestry and gently rolling hills, while in the immediate meadow-partly flanked on the lane-side by a row of chestnut trees—two horses grazed, coats brown and sleek, at one with the still, peaceful morning. No wonder Cameron had said it was a good place to unwind!

A tap on her door made her turn sharply, suddenly conscious of her short white lacy nightie. And she must have hesitated too long with her quiet, tentative, ‘Yes,’ or might simply not have been heard, because suddenly Cameron was coming in, although he stopped instantly when he saw her.

‘I thought you’d still be in bed,’ he remarked, obviously surprised. His glance over the feminine nightdress that she knew revealed far too much of her legs lifted to the tousled riot of auburn hair. ‘I didn’t bring you a tray as I wasn’t sure how much you could stomach in the mornings, but if you feel like something more than just dry toast it’s all prepared.’

This caring, domesticated side of him was so different from the hard antagonist who had left her the previous night that the disparity threw her for a moment. That, and the fact that the light cotton T-shirt he was wearing with pale, well-tailored trousers showed the muscular strength of his chest and broad shoulders, emphasising the hard, lean line of his waist.

‘No. J-just toast,’ she stammered, although remarkably she didn’t feel too bad this morning, she realised, as quickly she tagged on, ‘And it’s all right. I’ll be down.’

‘Why? Does my being in your room make you feel uncomfortable?’ he quizzed, with that sensual mouth curving sardonically. Hitting the nail on the head! she thought as he turned and went out before she could even think of a suitable response.

He didn’t appear to be around when she came down into the sunny breakfast-room, although the round oak table was laid for two, with the second place having already been cleared. The smell of freshly toasted bread hung appetisingly on the air. She could see three slices in the toast-rack. And there was a freshly made pot of tea steaming under a padded cosy, even though she could still smell the lingering and rather nauseating aroma of coffee he had obviously made for himself. Clearly he’d remembered her saying yesterday how her pregnancy had given her an aversion to it, she thought, with a reluctant gratitude to him for that much at least.

He didn’t reappear before she had eaten two slices of the toast with honey and almost drained the teapot, and, having finished, she got up from the table, tugging at the rather tight waistband of her jeans. Soon she would have to leave them off for something a little more comfortable, she realised with a grimace, but at that moment there was something more pressing on her mind. Something she should have done last night, if she hadn’t been so exhausted, and which she could do more easily now while Cameron wasn’t around.

Crossing the little passage to the sitting-room and the phone that stood on the table behind the door, feeling like a criminal, afraid of being caught, quickly she dialled the number of the convalescent home.

‘Hello. It’s me, Nadine.’

The sister, a bright, breezy woman, informed her that Dawn Kendall was out, undergoing a routine appointment at the hospital, and instantly launched into a comforting patter on how the rehabilitation exercises were helping her immensely, telling Nadine that she shouldn’t worry.

‘Thanks. You don’t know what that means to me.’ She smiled, visibly relaxing, and then, hearing a sound along the passage, said quickly, much more quietly, ‘I’ve moved out of the flat, but you can reach me at this number—’ hurriedly she conveyed it to the sister ‘—if you need to call me at all.’

She tried to put the phone down quietly, and only succeeded in dropping it into its cradle with a noisy little clatter, realising how guilty she must have appeared as, with a little gasp, she whirled round to see Cameron watching her from the doorway.

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