mother—the age difference between them was really not that great.
And the child she was expecting would help to bridge any lingering awkwardness there might be at the truth at last being told, binding them all together as a family.
Although Hebe wasn’t sure, after a sideways glance at Nick’s uncompromising face, that he still wanted to be a part of that family…
She wasn’t in the least reassured once they got back to the apartment. Instead of sitting down, Nick paced up and down the room like a caged tiger.
‘What is it, Nick?’ she finally prompted with a sigh. ‘Do you want to call the wedding off? Is that it?’
He stopped his pacing to look at her. ‘Is that what you want?’
Her heart sank. She had only asked the question halfheartedly, sure that Nick would still want to marry her, if only to gain complete access to his child.
Then she remembered Sally’s telephone call the previous evening and her spirits sank.
She stiffened defensively. ‘I asked you first.’
He gave a humourless smile. ‘Let’s not play that particular game, shall we?’ He looked down at her grimly. ‘What do you want, Hebe?’
She wanted him!
But she wanted all of him, heart and soul, not just the small part of himself he was willing to give her.
And she knew he didn’t have it to give. She knew that part of him still belonged to Sally…
He was more remote than he had ever seemed before—the expression on his rakishly handsome face arrogantly distant, not even the denims and casual blue polo-neck he had changed into before they went out making him seem accessible.
Something had changed since last night, and she didn’t believe it was only what they now knew about Claudia. Nick’s mood had been dark before they had discovered that, which only left Sally’s telephone call.
Why didn’t she answer him, damn it? Nick brooded impatiently. Why didn’t she tell him exactly what she thought of him, and the way he had treated her, and then just walk out of here? It was what he deserved, after all.
He forced his expression to relax. ‘I’m willing to go along with whatever it is you want, Hebe,’ he assured her quietly.
She continued to look at him for several long seconds, drawing in a ragged breath before answering him. ‘Do you believe me when I tell you that I didn’t intentionally get pregnant, that it was as much of a surprise to me as it was to you?’
‘I believe you.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sorry that I ever accused you of behaving any differently. I apologise. Most sincerely. There’s simply no excuse for the things I’ve said, the things I’ve done.’ He ran a hand over his eyes. ‘You have every reason to hate me.’
‘I don’t hate you, Nick,’ she mused ruefully. ‘You’re the father of my baby, after all.’
Yes, he was. He was most certainly that. And even if he couldn’t hold on to Hebe, he could still continue to see her through their child.
It wouldn’t be enough. It would never be enough. But if it was all she was willing to give him he knew he would have to accept that.
It was too late, far too late, for him to try to woo this woman, he had hurt her and wounded her too much for that ever to be possible.
‘I am sorry, Hebe,’ he breathed shakily.
She was very pale now. ‘Don’t be,’ she assured him gently. ‘I—I’ll go now, then?’ she prompted softly.
Nick wanted to get down on his knees, to beg her not to go, and convince her that it would all be so different if she would only stay with him. But that wouldn’t be fair of him. He had already messed up her life enough by giving her a child she had neither expected nor wanted, without adding to her misery.
‘Will you ever be able to forgive me?’ He couldn’t stop himself from groaning.
‘We can’t choose where we love, Nick,’ she said flatly. ‘It’s either there or it isn’t.’
And Nick could see that it most certainly wasn’t there for Hebe where he was concerned!
Maybe this was his punishment for treating her the way he had. To love a woman who would never, ever love him in return.
Hebe just wanted to get this conversation over with. She couldn’t stand it any more. She was sure now that Nick was going back to New York to be with Sally. He would make himself financially responsible for their child, but that was it.
Maybe it was better that it had happened now, before the two of them had made the mistake of getting married—but she just didn’t know how she was going to bear it.
Nick would pop in and out of her life and the baby’s, a virtual stranger to both of them, his life and his love elsewhere.
Was this how it had been for Claudia? In love with Andrew Southern but rejected by him, and discarded by Jacob Gardner, too, when he’d discovered her relationship with the other man?
But Claudia had only been eighteen years of age, whereas she was twenty-six and, as she had told Nick on more than one occasion, more than capable of taking care of herself.
She certainly wasn’t going to ask for the love of a man who couldn’t be with her because he still loved his first wife!
She stood up abruptly. ‘I really think I should go now, Nick. I’ll just go and pack my things. Thank goodness Gina hasn’t had time yet to find another flatmate,’ she added as an attempt at a joke. But her smile and the rest of her face felt as if they were rigidly set.
‘I’ll drive you back to your apartment—’
‘That really isn’t necessary—’
‘Necessary or not, I intend doing it,’ Nick insisted determinedly. ‘It’s the least I can do,’ he added.
‘Okay, then. Thank you,’ she accepted softly.
They both looked as if they had been through a war—and lost, Hebe decided as she went through to the spare bedroom to collect her things. She hadn’t really had time to unpack yet. Five minutes to throw her things back in the case, and she would be out of here.
Out of Nick’s life for good.
She only hoped she’d manage to hold back the tears until she was safely back at the flat. It would be just too humiliating if she were to start crying in front of him.
She didn’t belong here anyway, she decided with a last look around the beautiful bedroom with its four-poster bed. Neither she nor the baby belonged here.
‘Let me take that for you,’ Nick said, and he took the suitcase out of Hebe’s hand when she came back from the bedroom. ‘I—I have the portrait ready for you to take, too,’ he added calmly, indicating it wrapped on the sofa and ready to go.
He hadn’t
