agreed before we got married that given our own childhood experiences, we would never have children. It was a joint decision and any change to that agreement should have also been a joint one!’
‘But my getting pregnant was an accident!’
‘You know you sound even more insistent now than you did when you first made that claim! I’d almost believe you if I didn’t remember you casually tossing up the idea of having a family.’
‘I didn’t casually toss up anything!’ she flared. ‘I told you I thought that after six years of marriage, we could handle the pressures of being parents and—’
The thump of his fist on the glass-topped desk as he sprang to his feet quelled Taylor’s speech.
‘And when I disagreed, you said I was right! You admitted letting yourself be swayed by the fact so many of our friends were starting families! And then—’ he snapped his fingers ‘—bingo, you’re accidentally pregnant!’
Craig felt an old anger rising as he recalled how Taylor had venomously and repeatedly denied his accusations that she’d deliberately planned the situation; how she’d tearfully claimed she’d been taking the Pill religiously. He didn’t believe her, of course, and the ensuing rows had been loud and plentiful, but since neither of them advocated abortion, Craig had resigned himself to the fact that a baby was going to encroach upon their happiness.
Taylor had sworn a child would never come between them, that it would actually bring them closer, and for a while there he’d believed her. If he were honest with himself, and surely after five years he could be that at least, there had been a time when he’d begun to look forward to the child’s birth. Then things had started to go wrong. Now he wanted only to forget it. Only he wasn’t going to be granted that wish. He turned back to the woman assigned by the devil to disrupt his ordered life.
She was beautiful. So extraordinarily, hauntingly beautiful that even after all this time he’d often wake hard with wanting her, hungry for the feel of her exquisitely sculptured body writhing in sweat beneath his. The shorter cut of her tawny hair in no way detracted from her beauty, only enhanced the long, graceful curve of her neck, making the visual progression down to her high, firm breasts all the more exciting. The short skirt she wore hugged her hips and displayed legs most men only dreamed of having wrapped around them. He wasn’t immune to that dream, but the knowledge that for him it had once been reality empowered it with nightmare-like side-effects.
Though her heart pounded and her hormones were running amok in a rush of sensuality, Taylor forced herself not to squirm under Craig’s slow scrutiny of her body. It wasn’t easy, for even without touching her he had the power to make her ache with want. No one but him had ever possessed her body, yet she knew with certainty no one but him would ever be able to satisfy it. His hands and mouth had introduced her to pleasures she’d never imagined possible and it was difficult for her to remain focused on the purpose of her visit when she’d been deprived of such pleasures for half a decade. Heat pooled in the pit of her stomach; raw desire began building within her.
When he finally brought his eyes level with her face, the urge to go to him almost overpowered her. Only one thing held her immobile. The knowledge that passion didn’t equate with trust. It was trust she wanted to see illuminate the bottomless depths of Craig’s dark brown eyes.
She managed to hold his gaze for nearly a minute before eventually lowering her lashes. It was a minuscule victory, but a victory none the less. Once she’d have succumbed to his visual seduction within seconds. This time she’d met it with impunity—well, outward impunity at least.
Perhaps seeing those identical eyes in her daughter had increased her resistance, for there was no doubt Melanie was a carbon copy of her father. They shared the same almost-black hair, the same deep-set eyes and wide brow, and the same neat, flat ears. Fortunately for Melanie, though, her beautifully delicate nose had been spared being pushed slightly off-centre in a rugby brawl and a cricket bat hadn’t left a scar two inches below her left eye!
Fury welled in Craig at the sight of her half smirk. ‘What’s so funny, Taylor?’ he demanded, angry at being her source of amusement.
‘I was thinking how lucky Melanie is that your nose is the result of a rugby game and not hereditary. She’s the image of you, Craig,’ she said softly. ‘I didn’t even get a look in.’
Shocked as he was by her admission, he wondered if he hadn’t imagined the sadness tinging the words. So, his daughter looked like him. Funny he’d never given any thought at all to what the child might look like. Now it seemed he would be finding out firsthand.
‘What’s she like?’ he asked.
‘That’s something you’ll have to find out yourself. I’m biased. I think she’s wonderful.’
This time her smile was full-strength pride and happiness, and having been starved of it for five years, Craig was unprepared for its potency. It put his pulse speed up and all but knocked the breath from his lungs. Strange how something as simple as a smile could practically bring a grown man to his knees, but then Taylor’s had always had that effect on him. From the first time he’d seen her, he realized her happiness ensured his happiness....
Why then was he standing here contemplating meeting the person who had stolen that happiness?
About to refuse the lunch invitation, he glimpsed a flash of fear in the clear emerald eyes that studied him. What was it she feared? The past or the future? Herself or him?
‘What do you want me to do, Taylor?’ he asked.
‘Me? I...’
Caught off guard by his question, she paused and took a slow breath, the rise and fall of her breasts taunting him. Gripping the sides of his chair, Craig forced his face to remain impassive.
‘I want the decision to be entirely yours, just as lunch was Melanie’s. What I don’t want, Craig, is for her to be hurt.’ There was a wealth of warning in her voice.
‘And what,’ he asked coolly, ‘do you think would hurt her the most? My refusal or my acceptance?’
‘Your bitterness.’ There’d been no hesitation in her answer.
Amazement froze every muscle in Craig the instant he saw the child. Looking into the tiny face was like looking at a childhood photograph of himself-identical colouring and identical brown eyes.
The notion that this child was his own flesh and blood created alternate waves of terror and masculine pride within him. He had the urge to embrace her, but feared the consequences of doing so. Such an action was bound to be fraught with emotional danger although whether for him or the kid, he wasn’t sure.
Though physically Melanie looked nothing like Taylor, Craig experienced the same sensation of uncertainty under her thorough visual inspection as he had when Taylor had looked him over from the other side of the yard twelve years ago. There was interest but no indication of whether the observer was pleased or disappointed by what they found. She had Taylor’s style and panache, too, he decided, taking in the miniature hiking boots, khaki shirt and shorts, and the baseball cap worn backwards atop her long, straight hair.
The child darted a quick, uncertain look at her mother, before bringing her brown eyes back to him. Uncomfortable with the ongoing silence, Craig cleared his throat. ‘Hello, Melanie.’ He wasn’t surprised to hear his voice lacked some of its usual confidence.
‘Hello.’
