“We’ll get married.”

Tasha’s whole body stilled. “Why?” Because you love me?

“It’s an expedient solution,” Jared replied.

She felt as if her heart tore, and then shattered into a thousand pieces. “I don’t want a marriage based on duty.”

His eyes darkened. “We’re sexually compatible.”

On a scale of one to ten, she’d agree that what they shared was a twenty. Mind-blowing. She hadn’t experienced anything like it.

Aware she was dying inside, Tasha said, “Pregnancy wasn’t part of it. Nor was marriage.”

“You’re carrying our child.”

The Pregnancy Proposal
Helen Bianchin

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

SURPRISE, shock, were only two of the emotions swirling inside Tasha’s head as she walked from the doctor’s office and slid in behind the wheel of her car.

For seemingly endless minutes she sat staring sightlessly through the windscreen as the words echoed and re-echoed inside her head.

Eight weeks pregnant.

How could she be pregnant, for heaven’s sake?

A tiny bubble of hysterical laughter rose to the surface. She knew the how of it… She just didn’t understand why, when she’d taken the Pill as regular as clockwork and never missed.

Nothing was infallible, the doctor had informed as he listed a few exclusions. One of which proved startlingly applicable, pinpointing a nasty gastric-flu virus that had laid her low for a few days when she hadn’t been able to keep anything down.

Including the Pill, obviously. Sufficient to throw protection from conception out the window for that month.

Dear heaven. The groan was inaudible as it echoed in her mind. What was she going to do?

She was twenty-seven, a corporate lawyer. A good one. She had a career, a partner. Her life was carefully planned…

Pregnancy wasn’t on the agenda.

She closed her eyes, then opened them again.

Jared. Her heart lurched in tandem with her stomach. What would his reaction be?

One thing was sure…his surprise would match or outstrip her own.

How would he accept fatherhood?

A few differing scenarios swept through her mind, from enthusiasm and warmth, support…to the opposite end of the spectrum.

No, a silent voice screamed from deep inside. Termination was out of the question. Without thought she placed a hand to her waistline in a gesture of protective reassurance.

There could be no question this child was Jared’s…but it was also hers. And no matter how Jared viewed its existence, she intended to have it. Life as a solo mother wouldn’t be a piece of cake, but she’d manage.

What if Jared proposed marriage? Oh, sure. Pigs flew, and cows jumped over the moon!

There was little doubt he viewed their relationship as permanent…well, as permanent as any intimate liaison could be. Commitment, sans the sanctity of marriage.

Until now, she’d been fine with the arrangement.

Except there was a third life to consider in this equation. Decisions would need to be made. Only then would she know which direction her life would take.

Without thinking she instinctively reached into her bag and retrieved her cell-phone, only to pause as she keyed in the first digit, then disconnect the call.

Jared was due in court this afternoon, and his cell-phone would be switched through to his rooms. Any direct contact would have to wait until this evening.

Besides, this sort of news should be imparted in person, not via a telephone!

She could, she decided, plan a special candlelit dinner, dress in a provocative little number, be openly seductive during the main, then deliver the news over dessert.

But not tonight. An unladylike curse slid from her lips with the sudden realisation they were due to dine out. A Law Society soirée, one of many organised throughout the year for differing reasons.

Tasha stifled a slip into black humour at the thought of imparting her news sotto voce as they mixed and mingled with the city’s legal scions in the foyer of the grand hotel. Perhaps she could convey the information in a seductive whisper between the soup starter and the entrée?

He might very well choke, whereupon someone would have to administer the Heimlich manoeuvre…and that would never do.

Better, perhaps, to be more circumspect. She could always call into a babywear boutique, purchase a pair of white knitted bootees and place them on his pillow. How was that for subtlety?

Tasha’s mind unconsciously slid to the man who was causing her so much grief…and didn’t know whether to smile or shed a few tears at the reflection.

Jared North was known as one of Brisbane’s most sought-after barristers. In his late thirties, he was a brilliant man in his chosen field with the verbal skill to reduce the most hardened criminal to an insecure incoherent in the courtroom and tear the defence attorney’s testimony to shreds.

She’d first met him three years ago at a dinner for the legal fraternity. His reputation preceded him, and, while she’d seen his photo in newspapers and magazines, nothing prepared her for seeing the man in the flesh.

One look across a crowded room was all it took, and her insides began to melt. Tall, broad shoulders, the way he wore his impeccably cut suit set him apart from his associates. Hewn facial features sculpted by nature’s hand gifted him a strong jaw, wide cheekbones, a perfectly symmetrical nose. Muscle and skin assembled to provide almost a Latin look, a throwback it was said to his maternal Andulusian ancestry. But it was the eyes, well-set, dark and knowing as sin, that pulled a woman in. There was the promise of innate sensuality and unbridled passion beneath the sophisticated façade. And something else she recognised at a base level, but didn’t care to define.

That night it was as if the room and its occupants faded from the periphery of her vision. There was only the man, and an awareness that fizzed her blood and sent her heart racing to an accelerated beat.

He crossed the room, slowly weaving his way towards her, pausing momentarily as one associate or another sought his attention. But his gaze caught and held her own, his intention clear as she waited for him to join her.

Afterwards she had no clear recollection of their conversation. Instead, she heard only the deep timbre of his voice, an intonation that hinted at education abroad. She became fascinated by his mouth, the sensual curve of his lower lip, the warmth portrayed when he smiled.

An astute, clever and dangerous man, she perceived, instinctively aware even then he would have a profound effect on her life.

After three months of dating Jared suggested she move in with him. Tasha opted to wait six months, unwilling to leap too soon into a committed relationship where lust formed a large part of its foundation.

Now, two years down the track, they shared his luxurious apartment in one of Brisbane’s prestigious inner suburbs overlooking the river.

Life was good. Better than good. They devoted a lot of time to their individual careers, and each other, socialising on occasion. There was an apartment on the Gold Coast, less than an hour’s drive south, where they frequently escaped for the weekend. Sun, sand and relaxation, it provided a different lifestyle to the one they each led through the week.

At no time had marriage been mentioned.

Tasha didn’t want it mentioned, unless it was for the right reason…love. The everlasting, ever-after kind.

The beep from her pager was an intrusive sound, and she reached for it, read the message to call her office, and retrieved her cell-phone.

Minutes later she fired the ignition, eased her BMW out from the medical centre car park and gained the arterial road leading into the city.

It was a glorious day, the sky a clear azure with the merest drift of cloud. Lush green lawns, late-spring flowers provided colour and there was the promise of summer in the sun’s warmth.

Brisbane’s city-scape loomed in the distance. Splendid architecture in varying office towers and apartment high-rises of concrete, glass and steel. The wide river was a focal scenic point, together with a university, arts centre and the bustling Southbank with its many attractions.

Within minutes Tasha turned into a private key-operated inner-city car park, then drove to her allotted space and took the lift to the fifteenth floor.

The receptionist manning the front desk resembled a model from Vogue magazine. An admirable reflection of the head partner’s dictum professional image was everything. Amanda certainly aided that, and then some.

‘Your two-thirty appointment is delayed; you have messages on your desk.’

‘Thanks.’ Tasha summoned a smile in acknowledgement as she passed through Reception en route to her office.

Work proved a necessary distraction, and she checked her appointment schedule, ensured her secretary had the requisite paperwork ready for perusal, and gave instructions for three follow-up calls.

Two client consultations and a late-afternoon meeting brought the working day to a close. Something she viewed with relief, for her powers of concentration seemed to have zoomed off to another planet.

There had been moments when she was totally focused, others when a coloured illustration of a tiny foetus from the pages of the doctor’s medical book proved a haunting intrusion.

So tiny, so alive.

For a moment she stood perfectly still, consumed by a fierce protectiveness that drove out rational thought.

Then she extracted her briefcase and slid in printouts with various notations she needed to examine in preparation for a meeting tomorrow, collected her laptop, walked out to the foyer and took a lift down to the car park.

The best thing to be said about peak-hour traffic was that it moved… This evening, the speedometer didn’t register a notch over ten kilometres an hour through the inner city.

Her cell-phone beeped, signalling an incoming text message, and she activated it while she sat waiting for the lights to change.

Jared… Delayed an hour.

Tasha wasn’t sure whether to be peeved or relieved. While there was a part of her that wanted to get Jared’s reaction out of the way, there was also a certain reluctance.

Neither of which made much sense, she determined as she garaged her car and rode the lift to their apartment.

Situated on a high floor, it was one of two sub-penthouses in a prestigious apartment block on the river with splendid views of the city.

Spacious with cream marble-tiled floors, large expanses of floor-to-ceiling tinted glass, there were oriental rugs, modern furniture in cream and beige, with splashes of colour provided by modern works of art adorning the walls.

The lounge and dining-room were large, the kitchen and utilities modern, and the master suite was a dream with its large bed and adjoining bathroom. Of the three remaining bedrooms, Jared had converted one into a legal reference library with a desk, computer and electronic equipment for his own use. Another room held a day bed, and a desk which Tasha could use for her own needs. The third bedroom was a guest suite.

Tasha crossed into the kitchen, extracted a bottle of juice from the refrigerator and poured some into a glass, drank some, then she sliced cheese onto a biscuit and ate it.

Over the past week or two she had seemed inclined to want to nibble food at frequent intervals. Another symptom of pregnancy?

She’d have to buy a book and study it, she perceived as she walked through to the master suite.

Choosing what to wear didn’t pose too much of a problem, and she tossed an elegant black evening suit onto the bed, then made for the shower.

It was a while before she emerged and, dry, a towel wound round her slender form, she began style-drying her hair. Dark sable, it tumbled in wavy curls down onto her shoulders.

Next came make-up, and she chose subtle shadings to highlight her gold-flecked dark brown eyes, then she donned fresh underwear and entered the bedroom.

Dressed, she slid her feet into black stiletto pumps which added four inches to her petite frame.

Selecting jewellery, she was in the process of fastening a pendant at her nape when Jared walked into the room.

Her gaze met his, and her stomach fluttered at the warmth evident in those dark grey, almost black eyes.

His jacket was hooked over one shoulder, he’d loosened his tie and he’d undone the top button of his shirt and removed his cufflinks.

He bore the faint shadow of a man who needed to shave twice a day, and it lent him a slightly dangerous air.

Lethal, she amended as she felt her body stir in recognition of her attraction to him.

Passion, even in its mildest form, had the ability to liquefy her bones. All he had to do was look at her, and she was lost.

His mouth curved into a musing smile as he crossed to her side.

‘Let me fix that for you.’

He was close, much too close. She felt her body quiver as his fingers brushed her skin, and she was conscious of every breath she took, the heightened sensuality as she caught the faint aroma of his cologne, the male heat that was uniquely his.

Tasha felt his hands shift to her shoulders, the brush of his mouth against the sensitive curve at the edge of her neck.

‘Beautiful.’

She caught the slight huskiness in his voice, and deliberately stepped away. ‘If you don’t shower and change we’re going to be late.’

There was a moment’s silence, then he shifted and turned her round to face him. ‘Bad day?’

The query was softly voiced, and she met his narrowed gaze with equanimity.

‘Something like that.’

‘Want to talk about it?’

Tasha shook her head. ‘We don’t have time.’

Jared caught hold of her chin between thumb and forefinger, and tilted it. ‘We can make time.’

No, they couldn’t. This was going to take a while if she was going to do it right. And there shouldn’t be any distractions or time restriction.

She knew if she said the word, he would delay their departure for as long as it took. And part of her wanted to, very much.

His presence at tonight’s event was expected. Reneging without good reason was unthinkable.

She managed a faint smile. ‘It can wait.’

He cast her a brooding look, unable to define much from her expression.

‘Really,’ she assured.

‘Later.’

It was capitulation, and she released a silent sigh of relief as he tossed his jacket down onto the bed, pulled off his tie, then began to discard the rest of his clothes.

Half an hour later she slid into the passenger seat of Jared’s late-model Jaguar and sat in silence as he traversed the ramp to street-level, then eased the powerful car towards the city.

She’d gained a reprieve. But only a temporary one. At evening’s end, Jared would have the facts and be aware of her options.

CHAPTER TWO

THE evening’s legal soirée followed the pattern of those preceding it…superb venue, tastefully decorative bite-size food offered on silver platters by an array of uniformed waitresses, while the drinks stewards hovered, presenting guests with champagne and orange juice.

It was all very elegant, Tasha observed. Dinner suits and black tie for the men were de rigueur, and the women excelled themselves in gowns of varying design, length and colour.

There were colleagues to greet and spend time engaging in pleasant conversation before moving on. Notable peers who were important to acknowledge.

She found it vaguely amusing to be partnered by one of the latter, aware of the difference between dignified patronage and obsequious awe as members of the legal fraternity sought Jared’s attention.

Something he handled with friendly professionalism, never faltering in recalling a name or the firm for whom they worked.

‘How do you do that?’ Tasha asked quietly.

A slight smile curved his mouth, tilting the edges and deepening the vertical line slashing each cheek. His eyes were dark and held a musing gleam. ‘Memory training.’

Something he’d honed to perfection during his law-school days. An asset that was equally lauded and feared by his contemporaries.

She selected a canapé from a proffered tray and bit into it, then took a sip from her glass…orange juice, when she would normally have chosen champagne.

Dinner was a splendid meal, the food superb, and their table companions provided interesting conversation.

There were the customary speeches, and Tasha listened attentively, aware throughout the evening she was merely acting an expected part.

If Jared noticed, he gave no sign, although there was more than one occasion when she became aware of his lingering gaze, and she caught the faintly brooding quality evident.

His presence at her side was a constant, and she was supremely conscious of him, the light touch of his hand at her waist, the warmth of his smile.

All she had to do was look at him to feel the blood pump faster through her veins, and sensation unfurl deep within. It became a fine kind of madness that was entirely sensual as heat consumed her body and liquefied her bones.

Those large hands could wreak magic to each and every pulse-beat, and his mouth… Dear heaven, even thinking about what his mouth could do wrought havoc with her senses.

Almost as if he knew, he reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through her own. His thumb-pad soothed the criss-cross of veins pulsing rapidly on the inside of her wrist, and she curled her fingers, letting the fingernails bite into his flesh a little.

Did he know what he did to her? Without doubt, she alluded wryly. She’d been his from the start, ensnared by the power, the sheer male magnetism that was his alone.

The question that needed to be asked…and answered, she ventured silently, was how she affected him? Sexually, what they shared together was good. Better than good. Earth-shattering. She’d have sworn on her life his loss of control wasn’t faked.

But was it love…or merely lust? Sadly, she couldn’t be sure.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ Jared drawled as he pulled her close. ‘The evening is just about done, and we’ve fulfilled our social obligation.’

His gaze narrowed fractionally as he caught the edge of weariness evident on her features, the faint shadows beneath her eyes. Dammit, she looked fragile. The onset of a virus? She’d admitted to a difficult day at the office, which was most unlike her. She excelled with challenge of any kind.

Tasha made no protest, although the thought of exchanging a social comfort zone for what would inevitably prove an explosive situation accelerated her nervous tension.

It took a while to escape, for there were certain courtesies to observe, and Tasha sat quietly in the car as Jared sent it purring through the city streets.

They entered the apartment close to midnight…the witching hour, Tasha acknowledged, and wondered at the irony of it.

‘Coffee?’

‘No, thanks.’

Jared closed the distance between them, and glimpsed the faint wariness evident in her gaze. He caught her chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted it.

‘You’ve been as nervous as a cat on hot bricks all evening.’ His musing drawl had an underlying edge to it. ‘Why?’

There was no easy way to impart her news. She hesitated, reflecting on a few rehearsed lines she’d silently practised…in the office, driving from work, during the evening…and discarded each and every one of them.

‘Tasha?’ A slight smile widened his mouth. ‘What did you do? Earn a traffic violation? Over-extend your credit limit?’ The last was an attempt at humour, and he caught the faint roll of her eyes before she shook her head. ‘No?’ He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, felt its slight quiver, and ditched any further attempt to lighten the situation. ‘I take it this is something serious?’

Oh, man, she reflected ruefully. You don’t know the half of it.

‘Do I continue to play twenty questions, or are you going to tell me?’

She threw out the soft approach and went for hard facts. ‘I’m pregnant.’

Was it benefit of courtroom practice that allowed no expression to show on his features? There was no surprise or shock, and Tasha pre-empted the question she thought he’d be compelled to ask.

‘I had a doctor’s appointment late this morning. He confirmed it.’ She spread her hands in a helpless gesture, then sought to explain how and why the Pill hadn’t been effective. ‘I thought I had a lingering virus.’

Of the many scenarios she’d imagined depicting his reaction, she hadn’t counted on his silence.

She looked at him carefully. ‘I won’t consider a termination.’ This child is mine, she cried silently. But so much a part of you. The thought of relinquishing its chance to life almost killed her.

Dear heaven, why didn’t he say something…anything.

‘Did I ask that of you?’

All afternoon and evening she’d been on tenterhooks worrying about his reaction, agonising if the existence of a child might spell the end of their relationship.

‘We’ll get married.’

Her whole body stilled. ‘Why?’ Because you love me?

‘It’s an expedient solution.’

She felt as if her heart tore, then shattered into a thousand pieces. ‘I don’t want a marriage based on duty. And I sure as hell don’t want my child to be brought into a loveless arrangement.’

Jared’s eyes darkened. ‘Loveless?’ A muscle bunched at the side of jaw. ‘How can you say that?’

‘Have either of us mentioned the word love?’ He hadn’t, not once. And because he hadn’t, neither had she. ‘We’re sexually compatible.’ On a scale of one to ten, she’d accord what they shared as a twenty. Mind-blowing. She hadn’t experienced anything like it, and doubted she ever would with anyone else.

‘We’ve been incredibly indulgent, with no thought to changing the relationship in any way.’ She paused, aware she was dying inside. ‘Pregnancy wasn’t part of it. Nor was marriage.’

‘You’re carrying our child.’

‘Marriage doesn’t necessarily have to follow.’

‘I’m proposing that it does.’

She held his gaze. ‘Answer me honestly. If my pregnancy wasn’t an issue, would you have broached the subject of marriage?’

Please give me the reassurance I want, need, she silently begged. Sweep away my doubts and uncertainties by saying just one word, now.

His expression didn’t change. ‘I imagine so, eventually.’

She felt as if a sword pierced her heart, and it took considerable effort to keep her voice steady. ‘I don’t want you as a husband out of a sense of obligation.’

‘Two years together and you question my obligation?’

It wouldn’t do if she crumbled at his feet. ‘Two years during which either one of us has been free to walk away,’ Tasha said quietly. ‘My definition of marriage comprises love and a permanent “till death us do part” significance. If you had wanted that, you’d have suggested marriage before now.’

‘Which you choose to interpret as me preferring an open relationship with no legal ties?’

His slight hesitation together with his choice of words had provided an answer.

‘Yes.’

‘And you couldn’t possibly be wrong?’

Do you know how desperately I want to be wrong? She felt like railing at him. I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life…as your wife, the mother of your children. But not, dear God, as a second-best choice borne out of duty. I’d rather be alone than know I’d forced you into a role you didn’t want.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘But you’re not sure?’

‘Don’t use counsellor tactics on me. Save them for the courtroom.’

Without a further word she turned and walked down the hall to the master bedroom where she caught up her wrap, a few essential toiletries, and made her way to the guest room. Only to come face-to-face with Jared.

She registered the suit jacket hooked over one shoulder, the loosened tie and the semi-unbuttoned shirt. It lent him a rakish look and succeeded in activating a spiral of sensation she fought to restrain.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ His appraisal was swift, and his eyes darkened as she made to move past him.

‘Sleeping in the spare room.’

She could sense the tension in his large body, the tightening of muscle and sinew as he exercised control. ‘The hell you are.’

The deadly softness of his voice issued a warning she elected to ignore. ‘I don’t want to have sex with you.’

His gaze hardened, a fractional shift of his features that reminded her of a panther’s stillness the moment before it leapt to attack. ‘I accept that. But we share the same bed.’

And risk succumbing to his brand of subtle persuasion?

She was all too aware it would only take the glide of his hand on her hip, the familiar trail to her belly and the gentle but sure fingers seeking the soft folds at the juncture of her thighs to rouse her into semi-wakefulness and turn to him in the night.

By the time she remembered, it would be too late, and she’d be lost. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Tasha—’

‘Don’t.’ She lifted a hand, then let it fall to her side. ‘Please,’ she added. ‘I want to be alone right now.’

It was the please that got to him.

‘We need to talk.’

‘We’ve already done that.’ Her voice was even, calm, when inside she was breaking apart. Hurting so badly, so deeply, she’d probably bear the scars from it for the rest of her life.

His gaze locked with hers, the force of his will vying with her own for long, timeless seconds, then he moved aside to let her pass.

The guest room held its own linen closet, and she undressed, donned her wrap, removed her make-up, then she made up the bed, slid between the cool percale sheets and switched off the bedlamp.

Sleep came easily, but she woke in the early hours of the morning, momentarily disoriented by her surroundings until she remembered where she was and why.

The bed was comfortable, but she wasn’t curled in against Jared’s muscled frame as he held her close, even in sleep. She missed the steady beat of his heart, his reassuring warmth. The way he seemed to sense when she stirred during the night, how he’d gather her in and press his lips to the curve of her shoulder.

Inevitably it would lead to lovemaking, and she delighted in the fact he could never get enough of her. Secure in the relationship and what they shared.

Not any more, a tiny voice taunted. You blew it.

It was then the tears began to well, spilling over to slip in slow rivulets to her temples and become lost in her hair.

Tasha lay awake, staring at the darkened ceiling until the grey light of an early dawn crept between the shutters, giving the room shape and form, followed by subtle shades of colour.

It was too soon to rise and meet the day, and any further hope of sleep was out of the question. She could slip into the master suite and retrieve what she needed to wear into the office. Except she’d encounter Jared…something that was unavoidable, but she’d prefer to face him when they were both dressed. Which meant she’d need to wait until six-thirty, when he left the apartment for his daily workout in the downstairs gym.

At six-forty she took a leisurely shower in the hope it would ease the tiredness. It didn’t, and she brushed her hair until her scalp tingled.

With care she tidied the bed, caught up the clothes she’d worn the previous evening, and entered the master suite.

The large bed bore witness of Jared’s occupation, the covers a tangled mess, the pillows bunched at different angles. So he hadn’t had an easy night of it, either.

Somehow the thought gave her pleasure as she crossed to the large walk-in wardrobe.

Clothes were everything, and she began with her sexiest underwear, pulled on the sheerest tights, added a new suit she’d bought only the week before but hadn’t worn, and slid her feet into killer stiletto-heeled shoes. Then she collected her bag of cosmetics and returned down the hall to the guest suite.

Make-up was both an art form and a weapon, and she took extra care with its application, highlighting her eyes before sweeping her hair into a smooth chignon. A touch of perfume, and she was about as ready as she’d ever be to face whatever the day might bring.

Any hope of escaping the apartment before Jared’s return died as she entered the kitchen and saw him seated at the breakfast table sipping black coffee as he scanned the morning’s newspaper.

His usual routine on return from the gym was to shower, shave, dress, eat, then leave for the city.

This morning he’d chosen to reverse the process, and the sight of him in sweats, his hair ruffled from exertion, and looking incredibly physical sent the blood racing through her veins.

He lifted his head and his gaze seared hers. It gave him no pleasure to see the carefully masked signs showing she hadn’t slept any better than he had.

‘Coffee’s hot.’

Tasha made tea, added milk, slid bread into the toaster, then peeled and ate a banana as she waited for the toast to pop. When it did, she spread honey, and carried both tea and toast to the table.

Begin as you mean to go on, she bade silently. Anything less is a compromise you don’t want to make.

‘I’ll arrange an apartment of my own within the next few days,’ she said quietly. She took a deep breath, then released it slowly. Her throat felt as if it were closing over, and she swallowed in an attempt to ease the restriction.

‘You think I’ll allow you to do that?’ His voice was quiet, much too quiet.

She was willing to swear she stopped breathing, and for a few timeless seconds she wasn’t capable of summoning a coherent word.

‘It’s not your decision to make,’ she managed at last.

‘No?’ The silky tone held something she didn’t care to define.

‘My child, my body.’ It was as if she was hell-bent on treading a path to self-destruction.

‘Our child,’ he corrected. ‘Our decision.’ He stood to his feet, aware he outmatched her in height, size and weight. He caught the faint flicker of alarm in her eyes and derived satisfaction from it. Dammit, he’d take any advantage he could get.

She stood her ground. ‘I’ve already made my decision.’

‘Change it.’

She checked her watch. ‘I have to leave, or I’ll be late.’ She collected her briefcase and walked from the apartment, then she took the lift down to the basement car park, slid into the BMW and sent it up to street-level.

Focusing on work took all her concentration, and it didn’t sit well when a para-legal pointed out something she’d missed, when she should have picked up on it. A minor error, but it gave her pause for thought.

Tasha’s lunch was a sandwich she sent out for, which she ate at her desk in between contacting real-estate agents. The sooner she tied up a lease on an apartment the better, and she made appointments to view at the end of her working day.

The afternoon didn’t fare much better, and it was a relief to join the building’s general exodus shortly after five.

Her first appointment didn’t work out. She could have ignored the female agent’s over-the-top presentation if the apartment had lived up to expectations. It didn’t, and what was more the rental was way overpriced.

The second was an improvement, but Tasha didn’t like the location.

‘I can get you anything you want if you’re prepared to pay,’ the agent snapped. ‘Both apartments I’ve shown you are in the price-range you quoted.’

‘I have a few others to see tomorrow,’ she dismissed coolly. ‘I’ll get back to you.’

Going home held a new connotation. She was very aware the apartment and everything in it belonged to Jared. Clothes and select items of jewellery comprised her possessions. She’d given up a lease on her own apartment and her furniture had been put in storage when she’d moved in with Jared.

The muted ring of her cell-phone sounded from inside her bag, and she retrieved it, checked the caller ID and felt her stomach muscles tighten. Jared.

‘Where in hell are you?’

‘Three blocks away at a set of traffic lights,’ she answered reasonably.

‘It’s almost seven. You didn’t think to call and say you’d be late?’

‘I lost track of time.’ The lights changed and cars up front began to move. ‘Got to go.’ She cut the connection before he had a chance to respond.

Jared was standing in the lounge, hands thrust into his trouser pockets, when she entered the apartment. The adopted casual stance belied the tense set of his features.

‘Perhaps you’d care to explain?’

There was nothing like the truth. ‘I was viewing apartments with an agent.’ She began loosening the buttons on her jacket, only to pause part-way when she remembered all she wore beneath it was a bra…a very skimpy number that was little more than a scrap of moulded red lace.

Tasha saw his eyes flare, then harden as she refastened the buttons.

‘A useless exercise. You’re not going anywhere.’

Calm. All she needed to do was to remain calm. ‘I don’t believe you have the right to tell me what I can or can’t do.’

Jared lifted an arm and indicated the room. ‘Why move out when we can share this apartment?’

See you every morning, every night? Separate bedrooms, separate meals, polite conversation? And die a little every time? ‘I don’t think so,’ she responded with a politeness that belied her emotions.

‘Tasha.’ His voice held a silky warning she chose to ignore, and her expression held a mix of fearless pride.

‘I have no intention of denying you access,’ she managed quietly.

‘To you?’

She didn’t misunderstand his implication. ‘To the child,’ she elaborated.

‘Unlimited time. Your place or mine, but I don’t get to stay?’

‘I don’t want the child to sense its father might only be a temporary entity who might choose to walk out of its life at any time.’

His gaze hardened measurably. ‘You must know I would never do that.’

‘Perhaps not.’ She waited a beat. ‘However, your future wife may not be so keen to welcome a child from a previous relationship.’

‘As you will be my wife, that doesn’t apply.’

One fine eyebrow arched in silent query. ‘Another proposal you expect me to accept, when I know that, had it not been for the child, marriage was never your intention? Thanks, but no, thanks.’

A muscle tensed at the edge of his jaw. ‘I don’t recall saying marriage wasn’t my intention.’

He was good, very good. But wasn’t it the skill of his chosen profession to utilise words to their best advantage? To confuse the defendant and cleverly persuade admissions which otherwise might be withheld?

‘You didn’t need to.’

‘You’re being ridiculously stubborn.’

‘Am I?’ She drew in a short breath and released it. ‘I guess that’s my prerogative.’ It took considerable courage to hold his gaze. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to go freshen up.’ She checked her watch, and grimaced ruefully. ‘I’m already late.’

‘Late for what?’

Jared’s voice held an ominous thread she chose to ignore. ‘Eloise rang to say Simon is out of town for a few days, and I suggested we meet for dinner.’

‘A girls’ night out?’

‘Yes.’ She moved past him and entered the bedroom she’d occupied the night before. It didn’t take long to freshen up, repair her make-up and re-do her hair.

Jared watched her emerge into the lounge, and experienced the familiar surge of desire. She was everything he wanted, all he needed. Dammit, she was his.

The thought of any other man coming near her…worse, being given the right, almost undid him.

Did she have any conception of how he’d managed to get through the day without seriously impairing his reputation?

‘Tasha.’

She turned as she reached the door, watchful as he closed the distance between them. ‘Yes?’

‘You forgot something.’

A puzzled frown creased her forehead. Purse, keys… ‘I don’t think so.’

‘This,’ he murmured as he cupped a hand to her face and brushed his lips to her own, lingered, then he deepened the kiss to something warmly evocative before lifting his head.

He smiled faintly at her slight confusion, aware of her response for an unguarded instant. ‘Drive carefully.’

Oh, God, she agonised as she rode the lift down to the basement car park. Why did he have to do that? She could still feel the slow sweep of his tongue on her own, the pressure of his mouth. Not to mention the quickened beat of her heart.

She made a quick call to Eloise from her cell-phone to say she was running late, then she drove the car to street-level.

Traffic was heavy, with a number of vehicles heading for the city, and it was almost eight when she entered the restaurant.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Tasha offered as she slid into the seat opposite Eloise.

The attractive blonde smiled and indicated her half-empty glass of wine. ‘A gentleman had the waiter bring me champagne with his compliments. And a note offering his—er—services for the evening.’

‘Naturally you declined.’

‘It was tempting,’ Eloise relayed solemnly, and Tasha bit back a mischievous laugh. She’d known Eloise since their pre-teen years when they’d commiserated over pimples, teeth braces, and lusted after the male television and movie stars of the moment.

Relationships, they’d experienced a few, and supported each other when they fell apart. Now Eloise was happily married to Simon, and Tasha was with Jared…and pregnant.

Tasha picked up the menu. ‘OK, what are we eating?’

The drinks waiter arrived, and she requested chilled mineral water.

‘I’m driving.’ It was a weak excuse, and she knew it. ‘So am I,’ Eloise stated. ‘But one glass won’t pitch either of us over the legal limit.’

They ordered, choosing an entrée, skipped the main, and settled on fresh fruit, cheese and crackers instead of dessert.

‘It’s no fun being virtuous.’

Tasha sipped from her glass, then replaced it onto the table. ‘Speak for yourself.’

‘I thought Jared might have been with you.’

‘Disappointed?’

‘Not in the least. We rarely get to go out on our own.’

‘Without the men of the moment.’

‘OK, what gives?’

Tasha picked up her glass and took a leisurely sip. ‘What makes you think anything does?’

‘Too many years of friendship. Are you going to talk, or do we continue to pretend nothing’s wrong?’

Eloise would know soon enough, so it might as well be now. ‘I’m pregnant.’

‘You’re kidding me.’

‘I wish.’

‘What do you mean, you wish? Maybe the timing isn’t right, but Tasha…a baby. I think it’s wonderful.’ She leaned forward. ‘So when’s the wedding?’

‘There isn’t going to be one.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘I’m not going to marry Jared.’

‘This is serious stuff.’ Eloise pushed her plate to one side and leaned forward. ‘Didn’t he ask you?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you refused? Are you insane?’

Quite possibly. ‘I don’t want marriage just because it serves a purpose.’

‘Stubborn,’ Eloise declared with brutal honesty. ‘You’re being ridiculously, pathetically stubborn.’

‘Stubborn, huh?’

‘Forget the dream, and go with reality. Marry the man.’

‘Sure,’ Tasha agreed. ‘And wonder if it’ll last? If he’ll be enticed by the excitement of an affair…singular or plural. Consign the wife and child to one side and indulge in extramarital sex.’

‘Many marriages exist and survive in those circumstances.’

‘More fool the wives who condone them.’

‘You’d be surprised how many do.’

‘In exchange for the mansion, social and professional status, overseas trips…not to mention their husband’s wealth,’ Tasha concluded cynically.

‘Better the legal advantage of wife, than mistress.’

‘So…why not me? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘What will change?’ Eloise demanded. ‘You adore the guy, he clearly adores you. Dammit, you’ve lived together for two years. So, the pregnancy wasn’t planned. So what? It happened, and it can’t be undone. Well, it can, but, knowing you, you wouldn’t consider abortion as an option.’

‘No.’

‘You’ll deny your child a live-in father and the stable relationship of two full-time parents…because of stubborn pride?’

‘You don’t understand.’

‘Take a reality check, Tasha.’

‘You didn’t settle for anything less than love.’

‘If you remember, it was a rocky path to the altar.’

Rocky was an understatement, she reflected. An engagement that was more off than on. Yet Eloise and Simon had resolved their differences, and as far as she could tell the magic that had shimmered beneath the surface was still there.

‘So you think I’m being a fool?’

‘Yes.’

There was nothing like the honesty given from the benefit of a long friendship! ‘Yet you know I’m going to do it my way, regardless?’

‘I don’t have the slightest doubt.’

Minutes later another waiter presented them with a tastefully decorated platter of fresh fruit, assorted nuts, cheese and crackers.

‘Enough about me,’ Tasha dismissed as the waiter took their order for tea and coffee. ‘How’s business?’ Eloise was a high-flying executive in a public-relations firm who dealt with an interesting range of clients.

‘Hectic.’ The attractive blonde grimaced slightly. ‘Simon’s flight arrives from Tokyo an hour before mine departs for Sydney.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘We’ll be lucky if we catch sight of each other. There’s a lot to be said for the nine-to-five daily grind.’

‘As opposed to fame and fortune?’ Simon dealt in corporate real estate, worldwide, setting up multimillion-dollar deals involving buildings, hotels. Formerly based in New York, he’d made his home in Brisbane following his marriage to Eloise.

‘I guess it would be selfish to want both?’

‘Not possible,’ Tasha opined solemnly.

‘Because there’s no such thing as a perfect world?’

‘Something like that.’

It was almost eleven when they left the restaurant. The adjacent parking area was well-lit, and Eloise’s car occupied the bay next to her own.

‘I’ll be in touch,’ Eloise promised as she unlocked her door. ‘Take care, Tasha, and think about what I said.’

‘Shall do.’

The possibility Eloise was right didn’t escape her as she followed her friend’s car onto street-level.

It was a beautiful night, the sky a deep indigo sprinkled with stars and a sickle moon. Bright lights, colourful neon, traffic. Reflections of the sky-scape evident in the smooth waters of the city river.

Self-castigation was not an uplifting experience, Tasha determined as she took the exit lane from the bridge.

What was wrong with her? Why not accept Jared’s proposal, enjoy being Mrs Jared North, gift her child legitimacy, and to hell with her high ideals?

She needed her head read. Anyone else would go eagerly into the marriage and be content with whatever Jared offered. She knew he cared for her. So what if lust was a poor substitute for love?

Any number of women would be willing to settle for less, given Jared’s personal wealth, professional and social status. He was a generous man, in bed and out of it. Wasn’t that enough?

Was she a fool for wanting it all?

The answer had to be an unequivocal yes.

CHAPTER THREE

THE apartment was quiet as she entered the foyer, and she crossed to the kitchen, withdrew bottled water from the refrigerator and filled a glass, drank some, then she made for the hallway.

Was Jared home?

The sudden thought he might have gone out resulted in a frown. He would have rung, surely? Or at least left a text message on her cell-phone.

‘Enjoy your evening?’

He stood framed in the aperture leading to the room he used as a study. One wall was lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, another wall contained a long credenza. There was an antique desk which held his laptop surrounded by legal files, and a thick yellow legal pad.

Attired in black jeans, a white chambray shirt unbuttoned at the neck with the sleeve cuffs carelessly turned back, his hair slightly ruffled as if he’d dragged his fingers through it, he looked vaguely piratical, even satanical.

Dark eyes, dark hair, olive skin, his expression unfathomable as he stood regarding her.

Tasha felt vaguely defensive, even wary. Normally she’d have moved in close, reached up and kissed him, sure of her welcome, the feel of his arms closing around her slender form as they pulled her in and he deepened the kiss.

Sometimes they’d talk, but most often he’d simply sweep an arm beneath her knees and carry her into their bedroom. Fast and furious, slow and gentle…one would inevitably follow the other in a long loving far into the night. Often the talking waited until morning as they showered together, ate breakfast, dressed for the day.

Now Tasha remained still, unfamiliar uncertainty meshing with an undeniable sexual attraction. ‘Yes.’

Jared didn’t move, and she contemplated walking straight past him to the spare bedroom.

Except there was a waiting, watching quality to his stance. A silent warning she instinctively knew she’d do well to heed.

‘Working hard?’ It was a light query, and unnecessary. He was one of a few people she knew who could survive on four or five hours’ sleep and face whatever the day held with energy and purpose.

Razor-sharp was a superlative often used in reference to Jared North’s mind power, his memory recall. Very little, if anything, escaped him.

‘A few more hours should do it.’

The faint drawling quality sent prickles of unease up her spine. They were both being excruciatingly polite. Too polite, she perceived, aware there was a degree of anger beneath the surface of his control.

With her? Of course with her! The pregnancy was her fault. Well, not entirely, but she could have, should have been aware of the consequences and ensured extra precautions were taken. Except she hadn’t given the possibility of pregnancy a thought.

Divine intervention? A test by the Deity to determine the strength of their relationship?

Oh, dammit, Tasha cursed silently. She was really losing it!

‘Goodnight.’ She made to step past him, only to pause as his hand closed over her shoulder. Firm fingers cupped her chin, tilting it so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. ‘Don’t.’ Dear heaven, he was so close, too close. ‘Please,’ she added quietly.

Jared touched a finger to her lower lip, and he offered a faint smile. ‘Afraid, Tasha?’

‘Of you? No.’

‘So brave.’ His voice held a mocking tinge she chose to ignore.

It took courage to project cool when her pulse felt as if it was jumping out of her skin. ‘Is there a purpose to this?’

‘Does there need to be one?’

‘Yes,’ she managed evenly.

‘By all means…’ His mouth closed over hers in a gentle exploration, teasing, evocative, as he held her there.

For an instant she began to respond, the instinctive inclination automatic, then reaction set in and she strained against him, unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed as he let her go.

‘You don’t play fair.’ Her breath hitched a little as she sought control.

‘Did you imagine I would?’

She looked at him, caught the stillness in that dark gaze, and recognised the need to act with her head and not her heart.

‘No.’ Beneath the sophisticated façade there was a primitive ruthlessness apparent, a hard strength coupled with indomitable power. Characteristics that made him a man feared in a court of law…and out of it.

A sensual man, she added silently, practised in the art of lovemaking and pleasing a woman. Intense passion and great tendresse…he employed both with considerable skill. Yet there was also the hint of sweet savagery, well-leashed, but exigent none the less.

A tiny shiver slithered the length of her spine. Jared North was someone no one in their right mind would choose to have as an enemy in any arena.

‘I’m going to bed.’ She turned away from him and took the few steps necessary to bring her level with the spare bedroom.

‘Sleep well.’

Tasha ignored the faint irony in his voice, and chose not to respond as she entered the room. She turned on the light switch, then closed the door quietly behind her and stood leaning against it for several minutes.

She was tired, mentally, emotionally, physically, but she doubted her ability to enjoy an easy night’s sleep.

There were too many thoughts chasing contrarily through her mind, and she endeavoured to dispense with them as she removed her clothes. Make-up came next, then she donned a nightshirt and slid in between the sheets.

She must have slept, for she was caught up in a dream so realistically vivid she was there, living the fight to save her baby from being taken away. She screamed at the nurse to bring him back, but no sound came out, and she screamed again, louder this time, forcing her voice in a bid to be heard. But the nurse kept walking, and Tasha tried to get out of bed to go after her, only she was hooked up to various machines, drips, and she began pulling at the tubes, swearing at her seeming inability to disconnect them as she sought to free herself.

Then there was a familiar voice, hands whose soothing touch provided a calming influence, and although she heard the words, none of them seemed to register. The scene switched to another, one where the baby was now a young toddler, laughing as he played with toys on the lawn out back of a beautiful home, and she was there, watching with maternal pride.

Dreams, fantasy, wishful thinking. Perhaps a little of each. When she woke she retained a vivid recollection, and there was an awareness of the dawn filtering through the shutters, followed by the knowledge this wasn’t the spare bedroom, nor was she alone.

Had she cried through the night? Or had Jared—?

‘You called my name.’ He’d hit the floor running at the first scream, and arrived to pull her into his arms as the next scream emerged from her throat.

The tortured voice had chilled him to the bone, and he’d pulled her close, soothing until she quietened, then he’d brought her into his bed, gathered her in and held her through the night.

Was she aware she’d clung to him in her sleep? Whimpered indistinctly whenever he sought to ease her into a more comfortable position?

Tasha felt the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek, sensed the warmth and slight muskiness of his skin, and experienced a familiar sensation unfurling deep within. The quickened pulse-beat, the sensitised pores, and an electrifying awareness that curled through her body, rendering it boneless, his, anticipating the drift of his fingers, the touch of his lips.

It was an achingly familiar pattern most mornings as they indulged in a slow lovemaking. Soft sighs, lingering kisses, and the sweet sorcery of seduction.

Then they’d slip from this large bed, share a leisurely shower before dressing for the day ahead, eat breakfast together and take the lift down to the basement car park.

This morning was different. So much had changed in the past forty-eight hours. Gone was the easy camaraderie, the sanctuary of unreserved loving. Now there were barriers, doubts, reservations.

Insecurities and unresolved resentment, she added silently, aware that every second she remained quiescent related to an invitation she was reluctant to offer.

Two years of unrestrained loving, yet at this moment she felt as nervous as she had the first time they’d shared sex.

‘I must get up.’

Jared’s hand slid from her ribcage to her stomach. ‘Stay.’

The breath caught in her throat, and she tamped down the need. If she stayed, there could only be one end, and although she craved the wild, primitive pleasure his touch would provide, she’d only despise herself afterwards for giving in.

‘I can’t.’

There was a lost, almost forlorn edge to her voice that tore at him more than the words she uttered.

‘Stay,’ he repeated gently. ‘With me.’

Did he have any idea how hard it was for her to refuse? Or how easy it would be to give in? But what price a love that wasn’t equal? Self-survival had to be her ultimate goal. And she couldn’t, wouldn’t settle for anything less than his total commitment. Willingly given, not out of duty.

Right now she needed to get out of this bed and put some distance between them, for if he kissed her she’d be lost.

‘I need to go into the office early this morning.’ Even as she uttered the words she was easing away from him, smooth, deliberate movements he made no effort to still as she slid from the bed and crossed to the door. If she chose to shower in the adjacent en suite he might see it as an invitation to join her, and the resulting intimacy would be more than she could bear.

Half an hour later she’d showered and utilised the hair-drier. All her clothes, she qualified with a faint grimace, were in the master bedroom, along with her lingerie, hose, shoes.

With luck, Jared would be in the shower and she could retrieve what she needed without him being aware she was there.

Chance would be a fine thing, she acknowledged on re-entering the bedroom. He was in the process of dressing, a pair of black silk briefs sparing his tall muscular frame from nudity.

She caught a glimpse of broad shoulders, lightly tanned flesh and the fluid movement of muscle and sinew as he reached for a white cotton shirt, aware of the ease with which he closed the buttons before pulling on elegantly tailored trousers to his waist and deftly sliding the zip fastener closed.

There was nothing she could do to prevent the spiralling sensation curling through her body. Trying to stop it was akin to halting an incoming tide…impossible.

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