but although he had expected to find tears on her cheeks she looked remarkably composed when he drew back to look down at her.
‘Does it matter?’ she asked, looking up at him, her eyes shadowy in the subdued light, and in the aftermath of such a soul-shattering experience Alex was inclined to be philosophical. Given his quite amazing desire for her, he doubted he could have drawn back anyway, and even lying here, supposedly relaxed, he was still heavily aware of her perfection.
‘That depends,’ he said now, as he had said earlier in the evening, smoothing her cheeks with his thumbs, ‘what you expect of me.’
She smiled then. ‘Just your body,’ she assured him, with staggering confidence. ‘Now, may I get up? I ought to see to the pizza.’
‘Not yet.’
Alex’s lips twisted, as he felt himself growing hard again. Even after the discovery that she had been a virgin—or, perhaps, because of it—he found he had a definite proprietorial interest in her body, and even though her eyes were vaguely anxious now he was loath to let her go.
‘You—can’t,’ she protested, but the awareness she suddenly exhibited, proved that she knew he could.
‘Let’s see, shall we?’ he breathed, his thumb invading her parted lips. ‘Just for the fun of it …’
SO, SHE was pregnant.
Beth came out of the private clinic, and stood for several minutes on the pavement, letting the warm breeze of the May morning fan her hot temples. Then, after taking a deep breath, she tucked her bag beneath her arm, and started along the quiet street to where she had left her car.
It was curious. She had thought she would feel different somehow. Not triumphant, exactly, but certainly content that her plan had proved fruitful. It was what she had wanted, what she had aimed for. So why did she suddenly feel so hollow?
She needed something to eat, she decided. She’d noticed a distinct increase in her appetite lately, and, although she didn’t believe the old maxim that she was eating for two, she had found that smaller and more frequent intakes of food helped to keep the nausea at bay.
The small Renault was airless, and she wound down all the windows before inserting her key in the ignition. The car had been standing in the sun for over an hour, and the seat was warm beneath the short skirt of her formal suit.
Before starting the engine, she tipped the rear-view mirror towards her, and examined her face rather critically. She didn’t look any different, she thought, but that was hardly surprising. Nothing momentous had happened that morning. The event which had changed her life had occurred more than eight weeks ago, in another time and another place. That was when she might have expected to see some radical alteration in her appearance. That morning, when she had fled from the London apartment, leaving Alex Thorpe still asleep, and totally unaware of the deception she had practised on him.
There was a certain guilty awareness in her eyes now, eyes that in sunlight were more violet than indigo. But, for heaven’s sake, she had taken nothing from him. It was he who had done the taking, and if he had left something in return then that was only fair, wasn’t it?
She expelled a breath, and turned the mirror away from her flushed features. The fact that the becoming blush of colour added a delicate definition to her high cheekbones meant nothing to her. She was used to the unique quality of her beauty, and in her opinion it was not an advantage. Her experiences had convinced her that a beautiful woman was just a pawn in a man’s world, rarely taken seriously, and often abused. Beauty had killed both her mother and her sister, and she had no intention of falling into the same trap.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to fulfil herself as a woman. Just because she despised men, and all they stood for, she was not above using one to create her own destiny. She wanted a home, and a family, and after seven years of working to attain her ends she was now within sight of achieving them. So, why was she feeling so uncertain? She didn’t regret what she had done, did she?
Turning the key, she fired the ignition, and after checking her mirror pulled out into the desultory traffic of Victoria Road. It was too late to go back to the university before lunch, and instead of driving into the city she headed west, towards Sullem Banks, and the river.
It was one of her favourite places, in the little north country town. Here the River Swan was flanked by long sloping stretches of turf, and it was possible to drive down and park on the river bank. When Beth first came to live in Sullem Cross, she had used to come here to escape the confines of her lonely bedsitter, and even now that she had a comfortable home of her own she still came here when she wanted to think.
But today her growling stomach drove her to seek some form of sustenance before she reached the Banks. A baker’s, which served take-away sandwiches and polystyrene cups filled with coffee or tea, provided the necessary nourishment, and after finding a suitable spot Beth opened the pack of cheese and tomato toasties.
Munching on the sandwich, she watched a family of ducks making their way along the river bank. It was a popular haunt for families, and the ducks were no doubt hoping to attract a scattering of breadcrumbs, and, although Beth could have eaten both sandwiches and more besides, she yielded to the temptation to offer them a share. Besides, it was delightful to watch the ducklings scrambling over one another in their haste to reach a particular crumb, and her lips tilted at their obvious rivalry.
It also reminded her, if any reminder was necessary, of the confirmation she had received that morning, and her hand probed her still flat stomach, as if doubting the veracity of what she knew to be true. She was going to have a baby; her baby; no one else’s.
But once again she felt that hollow feeling inside her. It wasn’t just her baby, a small voice reminded her. It was just as much Alex Thorpe’s as hers, and, even though he didn’t know about it, it didn’t alter that one inescapable fact.
But what of it? she defended herself. It wasn’t as if she was depriving him of anything he wanted. Good heavens, he didn’t even know of its existence, and even if he did she doubted he’d be overjoyed at the news. It would be a burden, an unwelcome burden, on a man who evidently didn’t welcome responsibility. He had to have been in his late thirties, and by his own admission unmarried. Though, with hindsight, she had to admit, he had told her precious little about himself.
But then, she had been so busy avoiding telling him anything about herself, it hadn’t seemed a disadvantage. On the contrary, everything about him had fitted her image of the man who was to father her child, and, while he could be a pimp or a drug-pusher, she didn’t think he was.
She had known the risk she was taking long before she gatecrashed the party. In this time of AIDS, and other sexually-transmitted diseases, it wasn’t wise to sleep with just anyone. That was why she had chosen Alex. Because he had looked strong and healthy; and reasonably safe.
Of course, she had also wanted a man whom she could seduce. Which in itself was a daunting prospect, considering she had never seduced a man before. But he had looked older than the other men at the party, and he had behaved like a man who was attracted to women. And, when he’d offered to buy her supper, she couldn’t believe her luck.
Of course, taking him to the apartment had been a gamble. And plying him with Chivas Regal might have engineered her own downfall, or so she had read. Too much, and he might not have been able to do her bidding,
