always be a worry at the back of her mind. A fear of the unknown and what it could bring.
There was one very simple reason why Meg had turned to him—she trusted him. And he trusted her. She knew him, and knew how deftly he avoided commitment of any kind. She knew precisely what she was asking. And what she’d be getting if he went along with this scheme of hers.
If he agreed to be her sperm donor it would be him helping her become a mother. End of story. It wouldn’t be his child. It would be Meg’s.
Still, he knew Meg. He knew she’d risk her own health in an attempt to fall pregnant and then carry the child full term and give birth to it. Everything inside him wanted to weep at the thought of her never becoming a mother, but he couldn’t be party to her risking her health further. He dragged a hand back through his hair and tried to find the words he needed.
‘I will tell you something, though, that is far less admirable.’ She sank back against the arm of the sofa and stretched her legs out until one of them touched his knee. ‘I’m seriously looking forward to not having endometriosis.’
It took a moment for her words to reach him. he’d been too intent on studying the shape of her leg. And just like that he found himself transported to that moment ten years ago when he’d realised just how beautiful Meg had become. A moment that had started out as an attempt at comfort and turned passionate In the blink of an eye.
The memory made him go cold all over. He’d thought he’d banished that memory from his mind for ever. That night he’d almost made the biggest mistake of his whole sorry life and risked destroying the only thing that meant anything to him—Meg’s friendship. He shook his head, his heart suddenly pounding It was stupid to remember it now. Forget it!
And then her words reached him. He leaned forward, careful not to touch her. ‘What did you just say about the endometriosis?’
‘You can’t get endometriosis while you’re pregnant. Pregnancy may even cure me of it.’
If he did what she asked, if he helped her get pregnant, she might never get endometriosis again.
He almost hollered out his assent before self-preservation kicked in. Not that he needed protecting from Meg, but he wanted them on the same page before he agreed to her plan.
‘Let me just get this straight. I want to make sure we’re working on the same assumptions here. If I agree to be your sperm donor I’d want to be completely anonymous. I wouldn’t want anyone to know. I wouldn’t want the child to ever know. Just like it wouldn’t if you’d gone through a sperm bank.’
‘Not all sperm banks are anonymous.’ She shrugged. ‘But I figured you’d want anonymity.’
She had that right. If the child knew who its father was it would have expectations. He didn’t do expectations.
‘And this is your baby, Meg. The only thing I’d be doing is donating sperm, right?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘I’d be Uncle Ben, nothing more?’
‘Nothing more.’
He opened and closed his hands. Meg would be a brilliant mother and she deserved every opportunity of making that dream come true. She wasn’t asking for more than he could give.
He stood. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’ll help out any way I can.’
Meg leapt to her feet. Her heart pounded so hard and grew so big in her chest she thought she might take off into the air.
When she didn’t, she leapt forward and threw her arms around all six-feet-three-inches of honed male muscle that was her dearest friend in the world. ‘Thank you, Ben! Thank you!’
Dear, dear Ben.
She pulled back when his heat slammed into her, immediately reminded of the vitality and utter life contained by all that honed muscle and hot flesh. A reminder that hit her afresh during each and every one of Ben’s brief visits.
Her pulse gave a funny little skip and she hugged herself. A baby!
Nevertheless, she made herself step back and swallow the excess of her excitement. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to take some time to think it over?’ She had no intention of railroading him into a decision as important as this. She wanted—needed—him to be comfortable and at peace with this decision.
‘He shook his head. ‘I know everything I need to. Plus I know you’ll be a great mum. And you know everything you need to about me. If you’re happy to be a single parent, then I’m happy to help you out.’
She hugged herself again. She knew her grin must be stupidly broad, but she couldn’t help it. ‘You don’t know what this means to me.’
‘Yes, I do.’
Yes, he probably did. His answering grin made her stomach soften, and the memory of their one illicit kiss stole through her—as it usually did when emotions ran high between the two of them. She bit back a sigh. she’d done her best to forget that kiss, but ten years had passed and still she remembered it.
She stiffened. Not that she wanted to repeat it!
Good Lord! If things had got out of control that night, as they’d almost threatened to, they’d—
She suppressed a shudder. Well, for one thing they wouldn’t be having this conversation now. In fact she’d probably never have clapped eyes on Ben again.
She swallowed her sudden nausea. ‘How’s the jet lag?’ She made her voice deliberately brisk.
He folded his arms and hitched up his chin. It emphasised the shadow on his jaw. Emphasised the disreputable bad-boy languor—the cocky swing to his shoulders and the looselimbed ease of his hips. ‘I keep telling you, I don’t get jet lag. One day you’ll believe me.’
He grinned the slow grin that had knocked more women than she could count off their feet.
But not her.
She shook her head. She had no idea how he managed to slip in and out of different time zones so easily. ‘I made a cheese and fruit platter, if you’re interested, and I know it’s only spring, and still cool, but as it’s nearly a full moon I thought we could sit out on the veranda and admire the view.’
He shrugged with lazy ease. ‘Sounds good to me.’
They moved to the padded chairs on the veranda. In the moonlight the arc of the bay glowed silver and the lights on the water winked and shimmered. Meg drew a breath of saltlaced air into her lungs. The night air cooled the overheated skin of her cheeks and neck, and eventually helped to slow the crazy racing of her pulse.
But her heart remained large and swollen in her chest. A baby!
‘Elsie said your father’s been ill?’
That brought her back to earth with a thump. She sliced off a piece of Camembert and nodded.
He frowned. The moonlight was brighter than the lamponly light of the living room they’d just retired from, and she could see each and every one of his
