mine,’ Devereaux said with absolute certainty, before Louisa had a chance to answer. ‘It was conceived on the twenty-fifth of May.’
Louisa’s fingers clutched the robe as she wrapped it around her abdomen, all her soft feelings towards him squashed flat. He really was the most arrogant man on the planet. She wanted to tell him where he could shove his assumptions, but she couldn’t. Unfortunately he was right. The beautiful little human being on the screen in front of her was his child.
Louisa sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly.
As the doctor began to waffle on about due dates, percentile growth scales and antenatal vitamins, Louisa watched Devereaux listening to the doctor’s instructions, his harshly handsome face illuminated by the frozen image of their baby.
Their baby.
She sighed and stared at the screen again. The child growing in her womb meant that no matter what she did, no matter where she went, she would always have a connection to this man. This demanding, domineering, ruthless man who had hurt her so terribly once. A man who had tricked her into thinking he was the man of her dreams and then made her feel like a fool.
Exactly what kind of father had she given her unborn child?
Tears clogged her throat again. She couldn’t think about that now; it was too big a question to contemplate and far too soon to worry about it. She gulped the tears down hastily.
How ironic, though, that the most incredible, the most amazing moment of her life had also turned out to be the most devastating. Now she knew how David must have felt when he was aiming his pea-shooter at Goliath.
CHAPTER FIVE
LUKE shifted into second gear to take the turn into Regent’s Park and glanced at the woman sitting silently in the passenger seat. Only the high curve of her cheekbone was visible behind the glossy curtain of hair. The burnished blonde highlights haloed round her head in the sunshine. She’d been staring out the window for the last ten minutes. Not only that, but she’d said barely three words since they’d left the ultrasound suite.
It was starting to worry him.
From his short association with Louisa DiMarco he knew she wasn’t the quiet type. On their one and only date he’d been captivated by her bright, sharply witty and pretty much non-stop chatter despite himself. Of course he’d witnessed a much sharper side to her tongue once he’d told her who he was. But he’d still prefer those rapier-sharp barbs to this oppressive silence.
He pressed his foot on the accelerator. The park had a twenty-mile-per-hour speed limit, but at three o’clock on a Friday afternoon, and with the weathermen forecasting glorious sunshine across the country for the whole weekend, the sweltering city was already deserted.
As the majestic avenue of oak and maple trees whisked past, the dappled shade bringing some respite from the afternoon heat, Luke contemplated Louisa’s reaction. Maybe her silence was a blessing in disguise. He needed a chance to regroup, reanalyse the situation, rethink his position as well.
In all the time he’d spent brooding since yesterday—his resentment building at her irresponsible behaviour—it had never even occurred to him that she might not know she was expecting a child. Weren’t women supposed to have a sixth sense about this sort of thing?
But she’d had absolutely no clue—no inkling. As she’d lain on the doctor’s couch, looking fragile in the oversized robe, the naked shock on her face had been genuine.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked from beside him, interrupting his train of thought. She still wasn’t looking at him.
‘To your place,’ he said.
She turned, then, looking mildly surprised. ‘Do you remember where it is?’
He nodded, not quite able to speak as he took in the stunning face that he could now admit had been lodged in his brain for twelve agonising weeks—the rich chocolate-brown eyes, the full lips, the high cheekbones and the honey-toned skin that he knew tasted as sweet as it looked.
He remembered every detail from that night—not just her address. The chilly spring air as they had strolled through Regent’s Park after leaving Mel and Jack’s. The feel of her warm, lush young body pressed against his side. The fresh scent of the petal blossom that had blown over them in the breeze. Her captivating laughter when she’d tried to catch it as she danced down the path in front of him, her arms outstretched. The rich taste of the late-night cappuccino they’d shared on Camden High Street, and the flirtatious way she’d licked the milky foam off her lips.
And even more devastating than those memories were the ones that had come after.
Her arms clinging around his neck as he carried her into her tiny flat. The taste of her mouth on his—strong coffee and sultry innocence—as he bared her breasts in the cramped hallway. Those shocked sobs she’d given as he’d stroked her to her first climax, and then the feel of her, tight as a velvet fist around him, as he rocked them both to a brutal, devastating finish.
Yes, he remembered a lot more than just her address.
She stared out the window again. ‘I need to go back to the office, actually. I’d appreciate it if you’d drop me there.’
‘I’m taking you to Havensmere.’ He might have to rethink a few things, but his main plan was still solid. ‘We’re only stopping at your place to pick up your stuff.’
Her head whipped round, her eyes darkening to a vivid black. He braced himself, more than ready for the onslaught.
Louisa’s insides were still pretty much mush, but the indignation sprinting up her backbone gave her energy levels a considerable boost. ‘You know what, Devereaux? I don’t have to do what you tell me. So you’d better get over that little delusion right now.’
She watched him brake at the lights. His eyes flicked to her waist. ‘Under the circumstances, you should call me Luke,’ he said calmly.
‘I’ll call you what I like, Devereaux.’ It was petty and rude, and she knew it, but she didn’t want to call him Luke. She’d called him Luke that night.
He didn’t rise to the challenge, didn’t even bother to reply, but left her fuming until he whipped the car onto her street and parked a few doors down from her flat.
‘You’re tired and you’re over-emotional,’ he said, in the same measured tone that so infuriated her. ‘You’ve had a shock. I understand that.’
He certainly had a lot to learn about her, she thought, if he figured accusing her of being virtually hysterical was going to calm her down. She crossed her arms and fumed in stony silence.
‘I don’t want to fight with you about this,’ he continued. ‘But we’ve got a lot to discuss, and Havensmere is where we’re going to do it.’
She straightened, uncrossing her arms and bracing them on the seat, ready for battle. ‘Don’t you get it? I don’t want to go anywhere with you.’
He pushed the thick hair off his brow, pulled the key out of the ignition and gave a heavy sigh. ‘I know.’
For the first time she noticed the lines of fatigue around his eyes. When he looked at her she noticed something else—something that surprised
