face—the uncertainty, the apprehension.
Damn it, he didn’t want this woman to be frightened of him! He wanted the impossible—this marriage somehow to work, for the two of them to reach some sort of understanding.
Quite how he went about achieving that, when all they did when they weren’t in bed together was argue, he had no idea.
Maybe if they tried to stop arguing it might be a start…
‘Look, Hebe, let’s call a truce, shall we?’ he prompted gently. ‘This constant bickering isn’t doing a damn thing for me, and I doubt it is for you either.’
She eyed him mockingly. ‘Don’t try and pretend it’s me you’re concerned about, Nick—’
‘Will you just stop?’ he ground out frustratedly, grasping her shoulders to shake her slightly, her hair a silken tumble about her shoulders. ‘I don’t want to argue with you any more—okay?’
She grimaced, golden eyes troubled. ‘Your moods are so unpredictable…’
He gave a hard laugh. ‘Is there anywhere that says an expectant father has to be predictable?’
‘I suppose not,’ Hebe allowed with a sigh. ‘But I might be able to understand you better if you were.’
Nick raised dark brows, his gaze searching on the pale beauty of her face. ‘Do you want to understand me?’
A shutter seemed to come down over those expressive eyes, her expression once more defensive. ‘Not particularly,’ she dismissed scathingly.
Well, he wanted to understand her!
Last night, with Hebe, had been the closest thing to perfection he had ever known in his life. No, it hadn’t been just close—it had been perfection.
He refused to believe Hebe could have been with him like that, given of herself like that, without feeling something more for him than appreciation for his millions!
Unless he was just deluding himself…?
He released her abruptly, turning away. ‘You’re right. It’s past time we were both getting to work.’
‘Yes, sir!’ Hebe came back tauntingly.
Nick closed his eyes briefly before walking away. He had to walk away, otherwise he really might do something he would regret.
Hebe watched Nick leave, her heart heavy, knowing that the closeness they had reached last night before Sally’s call really had been a myth—that they had no common ground but the baby she carried.
The next seven and a half months, until her body became her own once more, loomed over her like a dark shadow.
Work—that was the answer. She had always loved her job at the gallery, and even knowing of Nick’s brooding presence up in his office on the second floor wouldn’t rob her of that pleasure today. She quickly lost herself in her work once she had explained to Jane, the manager, that Nick had been mistaken, and she intended working for several more months yet.
Her colleagues were agog with curiosity, of course, and eyed her ring enviously, which made things a little awkward. But once they realised Hebe was just her normal self, even if she was shortly going to marry the owner of the gallery, they all settled down to the easy friendship they had always enjoyed.
Well, more or less, Hebe acknowledged ruefully.
There were no more comments in her hearing about their gorgeous boss, or any wondering about what Nick looked like naked, but if that was the only change in their behaviour, Hebe could certainly cope with that. In fact, talking about Nick like that wasn’t something she wanted to do right now, anyway!
It was her hormones that caused this weakness in her legs and the ache in her body whenever she thought of him, she tried to convince herself. They were all haywire because she was expecting a baby, that was all.
She repeated that to herself when Nick walked into the gallery later that morning, and she felt the heat course through her body just looking at him.
He really was as gorgeous as her work colleagues said he was—and she had very good reason to know exactly how Nick looked naked!
She tensed as he strode forcefully down the gallery towards her with his usual vitality, remembering how she had run her fingers through that overlong dark hair last night, how muscled that body was beneath the tailored grey suit he wore.
‘Yes?’ She faced him defensively.
‘We have an audience, Hebe,’Nick murmured softly with a pointed look at Kate, working further down the cavernous gallery. ‘Is that all the greeting you have for your fiancé?’
She shot him an irritated glance. ‘So you want us to maintain a certain—discretion in front of the rest of your employees, don’t you?’
No, not really, he thought. Discretion was the last thing that came to mind in connection with his thoughts about Hebe! And she wasn’t just an employee, for God’s sake, she was his fiancée.
‘I thought that would be what you’d want,’ he drawled dryly. ‘I also thought you might like to know that my lawyers have telephoned, and the wedding has been arranged—two weeks on Friday, two-thirty in the afternoon,’ he informed her with satisfaction—and watched as her face paled in response to the news that she was marrying him in eighteen days’ time.
Damn it, why did she always act as if marrying him was almost as bad as being marched to the gallows, instead of a wedding to a man who had more money than she could spend in a lifetime?
‘I thought you might like to call your parents and let them know now that we have a definite date and time,’ he rasped.
‘I tried calling them earlier, but there was no answer,’ she revealed with a slight frown.
Nick tensed, wondering why, when she had only seen them on Saturday, she should have tried to call them this morning. ‘Oh?’
Hebe grimaced. ‘They’re usually at home on a Monday morning.’
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps this Monday morning they decided to do something different.’
‘Maybe.’ She nodded, obviously not satisfied.
Nick frowned. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Hebe.’
She had tried not to, but the more she had thought about it the more convinced she had become that her parents had behaved very strangely on Saturday after Jacob Gardner’s name had been mentioned. Her call to them this morning had been an effort to reassure herself that they hadn’t—only to have the phone ringing and ringing their end, remaining unanswered.
‘I’ll call them back later,’ she dismissed now, not wanting Nick to realise how troubled she was.
‘Maybe—’
‘Nick—Hebe. I’m sorry to interrupt.’A slightly breathless Jane approached them. ‘But you have visitors.’
‘Just
