One Night, So Pregnant! Read online

  She took a deep breath, blew it out slowly. And felt better for it. More in control and less manic. It had only taken twenty-seven years, she thought wryly, but the reckless little tart had finally become a grown woman.

  ‘Thanks, Nate,’ she said.

  He smiled, the action making those pure blue eyes glitter. Her thighs melted as her pulse pounded.

  Okay, make that a grown woman suffering from a serious sexual obsession.

  ‘You’re a pretty good listener yourself,’ she added.

  He blinked, looking momentarily stunned by the praise, then nodded and said: ‘Are we good to go now?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she replied, shocked not only by the sudden change from soft back to rigid. But also the shuttered look in his eyes.

  He shifted into drive, glanced over his shoulder to check for traffic, then pulled back out onto the highway without another word.

  What had she said? And what had just happened to the man who had kissed her so tenderly... And understood her distress? The air conditioner purred as the road wound back towards the city, but the chill in the air had nothing to do with it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘AND he’s definitely not available?’ Tess asked, trying not to snarl down the phone to Nate’s mature and far too reasonable PA Jenny. After all, the woman had become a close personal friend... Or at least it felt that way, the amount of times they’d spoken to each other over the phone in the last three weeks.

  ‘I’m afraid not, Tess. He’s in an important meeting.’

  ‘What? Another one?’ she said, snarling, just a little. That made three important meetings in as many days. The man needed to start alternating his excuses.

  Tess heard the unflappable Jenny give a little sigh, as if even she were getting sick of the charade. ‘I’ll tell him you called. Do you have a message? I’ll make sure he gets it,’ she finished hopefully, obviously not enjoying being cast in the role of gooseberry, any more than Tess was enjoying being cast in the role of woman scorned.

  Tess gazed out of the study window, and watched a bird of prey swoop low over the cliffs in search of lunch. It hovered and then dived towards the rolling surf, disappearing behind a barrier of ferns. She imagined it breaking some poor unsuspecting rodent’s neck. She forced her fingers to release on the handset. It probably wasn’t healthy for a woman in her condition to want to do the same thing to her child’s father. ‘Could you tell him the ultrasound is scheduled for tomorrow morning in Dr Hillier’s surgery at ten a.m. He has the address.’

  ‘Did you say ultrasound?’ the PA replied.

  ‘Sorry, sonogram,’ Tess corrected herself, using the American term, although she wasn’t sure why she was even bothering. She hadn’t managed to get Nate Graystone alone since he’d dropped her off at Eva and Nick’s house three weeks ago. Right after they’d had that revealing, and she had believed important, conversation in his Jeep. It obviously hadn’t been that important, because he’d been avoiding her ever since.

  He hadn’t even turned up when they’d arranged for her to move into the cottage two weekends ago. Which had really riled, because she’d changed her outfit three times—carefully repacking her suitcase each time—because she’d assumed he’d be driving her down to her new home. Only to have a couple of anonymous removal men turn up on Eva and Nick’s doorstep with a truck big enough to relocate the Metropolitan Opera House and a ‘house-warming’ gift from Nate, which she was positive had been purchased by the ubiquitous Jenny. She just couldn’t picture him buying scented candles and a selection of magnolia hand towels.

  In the interests of her newfound flexibility, she hadn’t beefed about the expense of hiring a removal company for her two suitcases of clothes and six boxes of personal items, or the fact that he had already taken care of their fee. But what she’d really wanted to beef about was the fact that he hadn’t shown up in person—the note sent with the store-wrapped present involving some lame excuse about work commitments. On a Saturday!

  ‘I get it,’ Jenny said, sounding relieved to have the mystery of what exactly an ultrasound entailed solved. ‘I’ll let him know as soon as he’s out of his meeting. I’m sure he’ll want to be there,’ she finished with more hope than conviction, before ending the call.

  Tess dropped the handset back in its cradle—resisting the urge to hurl it across the room.

  Yeah, right.

  She took several calming breaths, absorbing the spectacular view of cliffs and ocean from the cottage’s second bedroom—which she’d turned into a study the day after she’d moved in. Why was she getting so worked up about Nate’s disappearing act?

  Yes, she’d been moved by the conversation they’d shared in his Jeep after that first visit here. And yes, she’d believed that their relationship had undergone some kind of fundamental sea change as a result of the confidences they’d shared that afternoon. And yes, she’d been stupidly excited about seeing him again when they’d made arrangements for her to move into the estate. Had maybe even harboured some silly schoolgirl fantasy about them getting to know each other properly while she was living under his roof. She’d had visions of him popping in occasionally, had even expressly asked Dr Hillier on her most recent check-up about sex during pregnancy.

  Colour hit her cheeks as she recalled the mix of panic and anticipation that had run through her at Hillier’s no-nonsense reply: ‘Honey, the baby will be fine, and you should grab some quality time with the father now, because it will be in short supply once junior arrives.’

  Turns out she hadn’t had a thing to panic about, because you could hardly have quality time with a guy who didn’t even show up.

  What really galled her, though, was that before she’d realised she’d read far too much into their little heart-to-heart she’d decided to throw caution to the wind and made a conscious decision to take Nate up on his ‘friends with benefits’ offer. It had been humiliating as well as dispiriting to discover that Nate was nowhere near as enthusiastic about it as she was.

  After three weeks of waiting for him to call her—and not just email or phone with perfunctory replies to her enquiries—she was beginning to wonder if the man she’d glimpsed in that layby had ever really existed. But what was far worse, his avoidance tactics had made her feel in the last few weeks like some starstruck groupie begging for his attention. And that really rankled.

  She remembered the way he’d gone all stiff and formal with her, after she’d thanked him for his kindness and support. What had he thought she was about to do? Declare her undying love?

  She tapped the computer keyboard, to bring up the brochure design she’d been working on for the last few days.

  It didn’t matter. She couldn’t let it matter. Nate Graystone had messed with her head far too much already. She had tons to do if she was going to get Bay Banquets up and running and begin soliciting business in the next month.

  She studied the brochure, and let the sense of achievement begin to dampen down her annoyance. Using the Photoshop knowledge she’d gained on her website course, she’d framed a selection of arty still life photos from some of her most prestigious freelance events of recent years against a stately white background with a motif of the Golden Gate Bridge and then added the bold blue tagline with the company logo she’d copyrighted.

  ‘Bay Banquets: The best events on any budget.’

  It looked good, she decided, the clean lines of the contemporary matched to the beauty and glamour of the luxurious. She could do this, she really could. Bringing up the file with the fabulous customer quotes she’d spent the last few days soliciting from a selection of her most satisfied clients, she began dropping them into the marketing copy on the other side of the card. She began to plan as she played around with font styles and typefacing.

  Twenty minutes later, she clicked the file closed and transferred it to a USB. Pushing the chair back from her desk, she caressed the minuscule bulge under the waistband of her jeans, and let the spontaneous wave of pleasure wash over her
. It chased away a little more of her annoyance with Nate.

  If he didn’t show tomorrow, and she certainly wasn’t expecting him to, she’d be annoyed—and even a little sad—but she wouldn’t be devastated. After their last meeting she’d wanted him to be involved. She’d been excited about discovering more of the man behind that confident, take-charge mask. Had even foolishly hoped that there might be more for them to explore than just co-parenting issues and the possibility of more mind-blowing sex before the birth. But if he didn’t feel the same way, she certainly wasn’t going to force the issue.

  She swung the chair round on its casters to admire the beautiful little room. It had certainly been no hardship to move into the cottage. She adored the house already, the cosy comfortable Spanish-style furnishings as inviting as the immaculately maintained grounds. And then there was the breathtaking location. She went for a run each morning through the gardens and along the cliffs and had found a secret path through the lemon grove at the back of the main house that led down to a private beach. This place was idyllic. She didn’t want to leave. So she’d decided that once she had some business coming in, she’d negotiate a rental contract with Nate. He probably wouldn’t like it, given his insistence on paying for everything—so she’d let him beat her down to a ridiculously low price—but she needed to maintain that separation and also have the security of knowing she could stay. She couldn’t think of a better place for a child to start out its life. And she wanted her child to have a tangible connection to the boy Nate had been, even if the man continued to remain elusive.

  Picking up the USB stick, she rubbed her thumb over it, like Aladdin about to conjure the genie out of the lamp, and popped it into her purse, ready to drop off at a printer she had found in the Haight before the doctor’s appointment tomorrow.

  Being more flexible about the boundaries she set around her own independence had been a good thing... It had brought her here, and made her admit that she didn’t have to do every single thing on her own. But there was flexible and there was clingy. She wasn’t going to call Nate again.

  If he showed tomorrow, she’d try and find out what the heck had made him back off so far, so fast. But if he didn’t show, she would get on with her own life, her own way, and forget about becoming Nate’s friend. With or without

  benefits.

  She blinked down at her bump and felt the rush of emotion again. It was just pregnancy hormones. If the only support Nate offered was financial, she’d be disappointed but she’d get over it.

  Even if it killed her.

  * * *

  Nate checked the GPS on his phone, then stuffed it into his jacket pocket and walked into the downtown building. As soon as he entered the lobby he spotted Tess seated by the window, wearing one of her power skirts and a soft silk blouse, the first two buttons undone to leave a tantalising hint of cleavage. She was gazing into space, perched on the edge of the leather armchair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her legs crossed at the ankle and her golden hair pulled up in some kind of topknot that left only a few strands touching her cheekbones.

  She looked stunning and sexy—and a little scared.

  He thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers, the kick in his gut hard, fast and inevitable.

  He shouldn’t have come. But when his PA Jenny had slapped the message on his desk, with a definite sniff of irritation, he’d known he couldn’t resist the pull to see Tess again any longer.

  It had been three weeks, and the look on her face as she’d thanked him for listening to her still haunted him. The rush of emotion had been sudden and unyielding and totally unexpected. Part lust, sure, because with Tess there was always that fierce yank of sexual need, but underneath had been something else. Something much more disturbing—a desire to make things right that he didn’t understand and didn’t want to understand.

  He’d tried to rationalise it since as he forced himself not to drive down to San Revelle and see her. This woman was having his child, of course he would feel protective of her, and the baby. But the thing was, the child wasn’t really real to him yet. It was an abstract concept, a responsibility that he didn’t have to confront just yet. When the time came he would make every effort to build a relationship with it—even though parenthood wasn’t something he expected to be particularly good at, he would do his best. He owed his child that much. Because he knew what it was like to be ignored, to be sidelined, to be nothing more than an inconvenience. But he had six months still to come to terms with that reality, and step up to the plate.

  No, it wasn’t his feelings towards the child that bothered him, or the uncertainty of stepping into a role he had no aptitude for—it was his feelings for Tess.

  She wasn’t the person he’d thought she was. The fog of misunderstandings and recriminations and little white lies had cleared in that scenic overlook on Highway One to reveal a woman who was more honest, more forthright than he’d ever be. And as a result, his feelings for her weren’t nearly as shallow and easily compartmentalised as he’d hoped. How could they be, when he’d shared with her stuff that he’d never told another living soul? After sleeping with her exactly twice and knowing her less than a couple of months—during most of which time they’d argued like cats and dogs.

  He frowned as he waited in the doorway. Trying once again to judge why he’d allowed himself to bare his soul like that with so little provocation.

  At the time, talking about Zane and his father, and the turmoil of emotions that had nearly destroyed him as a teenager, hadn’t felt like a bad thing; it had felt like a release. Something he’d bottled up and refused to acknowledge for way too long. But once she’d opened her heart to him—and let him see the lost child she’d once been—relief and gratitude had been replaced by need.

  She understood that he had a space inside him that could never be filled. And he didn’t want anyone to see that weakness, to know it was there. He wanted to take everything back. He didn’t want her to know about that little boy who had been stupid enough to believe that a biological connection could give him a family. He didn’t want to care that she too had had needs that couldn’t be filled, that she had survived unhappiness and disillusionment, because it gave them a connection that went well beyond sex.

  He could do responsibility, he could even do commitment, up to a point, but what he couldn’t do was vulnerability. Opening yourself up like that, wanting people to care about you and for you, to be there for you, only ever led to one thing: disappointment.

  Sure he could count on Zane, but there had always been that dark truth festering between them. That he had wanted to be Zane’s brother, but Zane had never wanted to be his.

  He stepped up to the receptionist, sitting behind her desk, who smiled at him in helpful enquiry. ‘What can I do for you, sir?’

  ‘I’m Nate Graystone, I’m here with my...’ He paused. How did he describe Tess? She wasn’t his wife, or his partner, or his lover, or even really his friend. ‘With Tess Tremaine to see Dr Hillier.’

  The receptionist smiled, then checked out something on her computer. ‘That’s great, Mr Graystone. The doctor’s running a little late, but she’ll be ready for you both in ten. Miss Tremaine is already here.’

  He crossed the room towards Tess, whose eyes popped wide as he approached. She recovered quickly though and stood, brushing some invisible dust off her skirt.

  ‘You got the message?’ she said, her voice carefully neutral. Why he should find her controlled response annoying, he had no idea.

  ‘Yeah. Thanks for letting me know.’ He took the seat next to her, got a lungful of jasmine—and felt the all too familiar spike of lust.

  ‘You didn’t have to come,’ she said, which annoyed him more. ‘I didn’t expect you to. I thought you’d probably have another V.I.M.’

  ‘I wanted to come,’ he replied, the snotty edge to her voice going some way to dispel his annoyance. It was probably perverse, but he preferred Tess in a snit to Tess keeping her distance. ‘What’
s a V.I.M.?’

  She sent him a level look that held a definite note of accusation. ‘A Very Important Meeting, of course. According to Jenny you’ve had quite a lot of those lately.’

  He actually had had a lot of important meetings, he hadn’t faked that. Graystone was about to buy up a controlling interest in a failing software company he’d had his eye on for a while. The string of meetings with accountants, his development team, the contract attorneys, had been time-consuming and mostly mind-numbing. The best part of owning and operating an investment firm was the rush he got from locating, acquiring and then turning around small companies that showed potential—but the endless round of graphs and reports and numbers to be read and assessed and crunched before any contracts could be signed, not so much.

  But he could have delegated some of the work to his management team in the last three weeks, and he hadn’t, for the specific reason that he’d needed a distraction, to keep his mind off Tess.

  ‘You’re settled in okay, at the cottage?’ he asked, sidestepping the comment.

  ‘Yes, I...’ Pink flags rose in her cheeks. ‘It’s beautiful. The estate’s amazing.’ Her emerald eyes glowed with a coltish enthusiasm. ‘And the cottage couldn’t be more perfect. I love it there.’

  ‘That’s great,’ he said, stupidly jealous of a pile of bricks. ‘And Zane’s Beemer, that worked out okay too?’

  She nodded. ‘Um-hum.’ Her teeth bit into her lower lip. ‘Although I feel a little guilty about borrowing it indefinitely.’

  ‘Why?’ he asked blankly, hoping to hell she hadn’t figured out the ruse.

  ‘It only had fifteen miles on the clock, Nate, when he dropped it off. I think it might be brand-new. It certainly smells that way. What if I dent it?’