The Pregnancy Proposal. HELEN BIANCHIN
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There was no easy way to impart her news. She hesitated, reflecting on a few rehearsed lines she’d silently practised…in the office, driving from work, during the evening…and discarded each and every one of them.
‘Tasha?’ A slight smile widened his mouth. ‘What did you do? Earn a traffic violation? Over-extend your credit limit?’ The last was an attempt at humour, and he caught the faint roll of her eyes before she shook her head. ‘No?’ He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, felt its slight quiver, and ditched any further attempt to lighten the situation. ‘I take it this is something serious?’
Oh, man, she reflected ruefully. You don’t know the half of it.
‘Do I continue to play twenty questions, or are you going to tell me?’
She threw out the soft approach and went for hard facts. ‘I’m pregnant.’
Was it benefit of courtroom practice that allowed no expression to show on his features? There was no surprise or shock, and Tasha pre-empted the question she thought he’d be compelled to ask.
‘I had a doctor’s appointment late this morning. He confirmed it.’ She spread her hands in a helpless gesture, then sought to explain how and why the Pill hadn’t been effective. ‘I thought I had a lingering virus.’
Of the many scenarios she’d imagined depicting his reaction, she hadn’t counted on his silence.
She looked at him carefully. ‘I won’t consider a termination.’ This child is mine, she cried silently. But so much a part of you. The thought of relinquishing its chance to life almost killed her.
Dear heaven, why didn’t he say something…anything.
‘Did I ask that of you?’
All afternoon and evening she’d been on tenterhooks worrying about his reaction, agonising if the existence of a child might spell the end of their relationship.
‘We’ll get married.’
Her whole body stilled. ‘Why?’ Because you love me?
‘It’s an expedient solution.’
She felt as if her heart tore, then shattered into a thousand pieces. ‘I don’t want a marriage based on duty. And I sure as hell don’t want my child to be brought into a loveless arrangement.’
Jared’s eyes darkened. ‘Loveless?’ A muscle bunched at the side of jaw. ‘How can you say that?’
‘Have either of us mentioned the word love?’ He hadn’t, not once. And because he hadn’t, neither had she. ‘We’re sexually compatible.’ On a scale of one to ten, she’d accord what they shared as a twenty. Mind-blowing. She hadn’t experienced anything like it, and doubted she ever would with anyone else.
‘We’ve been incredibly indulgent, with no thought to changing the relationship in any way.’ She paused, aware she was dying inside. ‘Pregnancy wasn’t part of it. Nor was marriage.’
‘You’re carrying our child.’
‘Marriage doesn’t necessarily have to follow.’
‘I’m proposing that it does.’
She held his gaze. ‘Answer me honestly. If my pregnancy wasn’t an issue, would you have broached the subject of marriage?’
Please give me the reassurance I want, need, she silently begged. Sweep away my doubts and uncertainties by saying just one word, now.
His expression didn’t change. ‘I imagine so, eventually.’
She felt as if a sword pierced her heart, and it took considerable effort to keep her voice steady. ‘I don’t want you as a husband out of a sense of obligation.’
‘Two years together and you question my obligation?’
It wouldn’t do if she crumbled at his feet. ‘Two years during which either one of us has been free to walk away,’ Tasha said quietly. ‘My definition of marriage comprises love and a permanent “till death us do part” significance. If you had wanted that, you’d have suggested marriage before now.’
‘Which you choose to interpret as me preferring an open relationship with no legal ties?’
His slight hesitation together with his choice of words had provided an answer.
‘Yes.’
‘And you couldn’t possibly be wrong?’
Do you know how desperately I want to be wrong? She felt like railing at him. I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life…as your wife, the mother of your children. But not, dear God, as a second-best choice borne out of duty. I’d rather be alone than know I’d forced you into a role you didn’t want.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘But you’re not sure?’
‘Don’t use counsellor tactics on me. Save them for the courtroom.’
Without a further word she turned and walked down the hall to the master bedroom where she caught up her wrap, a few essential toiletries, and made her way to the guest room. Only to come face-to-face with Jared.
She registered the suit jacket hooked over one shoulder, the loosened tie and the semi-unbuttoned shirt. It lent him a rakish look and succeeded in activating a spiral of sensation she fought to restrain.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ His appraisal was swift, and his eyes darkened as she made to move past him.
‘Sleeping in the spare room.’
She could sense the tension in his large body, the tightening of muscle and sinew as he exercised control. ‘The hell you are.’
The deadly softness of his voice issued a warning she elected to ignore. ‘I don’t want to have sex with you.’
His gaze hardened, a fractional shift of his features that reminded her of a panther’s stillness the moment before it leapt to attack. ‘I accept that. But we share the same bed.’
And risk succumbing to his brand of subtle persuasion?
She was all too aware it would only take the glide of his hand on her hip, the familiar trail to her belly and the gentle but sure fingers seeking the soft folds at the juncture of her thighs to rouse her into semi-wakefulness and turn to him in the night.
By the time she remembered, it would be too late, and she’d be lost. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Tasha—’
‘Don’t.’ She lifted a hand, then let it fall to her side. ‘Please,’ she added. ‘I want to be alone right now.’
It was the please that got to him.
‘We need to talk.’
‘We’ve