His Secretary's Nine-Month Notice (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Cathy Williams

  Accustomed as she was to a life filled with exuberant, over-the-top adults, Violet was bewildered and, after an hour of stilted conversation, deeply saddened for Matt and a childhood that had obviously been quite different from her own. Perhaps, had he not been an only child, things might have been a little better. Violet could only shudder at the thought of a young child, packed off to boarding school at the age of seven, spending holidays and free time in a house that had the feel of a mausoleum.

  More than ever, she felt special to have been introduced to his parents. She was quite sure that he had never allowed any overlap between his parents and his women. Yes, she was pregnant, and that made a big difference, but nothing could take away from the fact that it felt like a significant step.

  Dinner was served in the dining room, where they all attempted conversation across a table so vast that megaphones wouldn’t have been a bad idea.

  The food was delicious. Four courses, with all the appropriate wines, although neither of them had anything to drink. She was pregnant, and Matt was insistent on driving back—even though, as an afterthought, his mother did mention that a room could be prepared for them and the drive undertaken in the morning.

  ‘Work,’ Matt informed them with a polite smile, glancing at his watch, which seemed to be an accepted signal as both parents rose without fuss, leaving the dishes to be cleared away by the invisible young girl who had ferried them in.

  ‘Coffee in the snug?’ his father asked. ‘Or something stronger? I have some excellent port.’

  ‘I have a stack of emails to get through before morning,’ Matt informed them both and, whilst neither parent said anything, Violet noticed the fleeting moue of distaste that had crossed his father’s face. Then they were at the front door, with coats being brought to them and congratulations repeated on the pregnancy.

  ‘We must lunch,’ his mother said politely. ‘I visit London every so often and I would be delighted to take you somewhere.’

  Violet nodded and wondered how that would go. Lunch with Julietta Falconer? The conversation would not flow, that was for sure.

  ‘I told you it wouldn’t be a protracted affair,’ was the first thing Matt said once they were in the car and heading away from the country estate.

  ‘Do you normally have such...formal meals with your parents?’

  Matt slung her a sideways glance. ‘They’re not the sort who enjoy casual dining round a kitchen table.’

  ‘I never knew... I wasn’t expecting...’

  ‘I prefer not to dwell on my background. I find it muddies the water.’

  ‘Was it always like that?’

  He shrugged. ‘Boarding school broke it up.’ He paused and said neutrally, eyes fixed on the road ahead, making brilliant time in the darkness on the empty country lanes, ‘I envy the chaotic life you must have led, Violet, even though you probably might have wished it could have been different when you were growing up.’

  ‘I always felt that there was so much responsibility on my shoulders. Without a mother and with my dad and his carefree lack of self-control—you’re right. I used to long for a bit of stability.’

  ‘Which is why you reacted by becoming the very antithesis of your father. Where he was wild, you were grounded. You looked out for him and, in the process, you sacrificed the sort of life most young girls would have led.’

  ‘This is a pretty deep conversation to be having so late in the evening.’

  Matt smiled crookedly. ‘Sometimes deep conversations are called for. I don’t usually do them but, hey, there are exceptions to every rule.’

  Violet glanced across at him with uneasy eyes, sensing that he wanted to say something she might not be overjoyed to hear, but really not sure what that something might be.

  But that glimpse into his past had made her hungry for more, and curiosity was a greater force than wariness.

  ‘Your parents don’t approve of what you do, do they?’

  ‘What makes you say that?’ Startled, Matt slid his gaze across to her, eyes narrowed.

  ‘Just a feeling I got.’

  ‘Explain.’

  ‘There was something in your dad’s expression when you told him that we had to leave because you had work to do when you got back to London.’

  Bitterness crept into Matt’s voice when he next spoke. ‘My destiny was to manage that sprawling estate and, for fun, have a career in the city or at the very least at the bar. Something traditional and respectable. Along with marriage to the right girl with the right connections.’

  ‘They told you that?’

  ‘Not in so many words,’ Matt said drily. ‘But, then again, meaningful conversation has always been thin on the ground. The chosen way has always been to circle around what needed to be said aloud.’

  Hence, Violet thought, his remark about being a disappointment. Her heart went out to him. What must he have felt growing up? He was now the biggest success story in the tech industry but, as far as his parents were concerned, he was a let down, pursuing a career they probably didn’t fully understand and maybe disapproved of.

  ‘I can hear the sound of you feeling sorry for me,’ he continued.

  ‘Of course I do.’ She reached out, rested her hand on his arm and felt him stiffen fractionally. In response, she whipped her hand away, cheeks red.

  ‘Matt.’ She sighed with exasperation. ‘You should tell me what’s going on. I thought...’ She breathed in deeply and ploughed on, because nothing felt right at the moment. ‘I thought that when I agreed to give our relationship a go you might have been a little more enthusiastic, especially considering you were the one to suggest... Well, you asked me to marry you and I turned you down. Now I’m prepared to meet you halfway but I get the feeling that you’re not at all overjoyed with the situation. You vanished like a bat out of hell the second I told you that I was prepared to give things a go and now you can barely look me in the face. Meeting your parents...felt like a big step forward, but was it? Or was it just a hurdle that had to be jumped?’

  ‘You deserve to have all those questions answered,’ he said roughly.

  Violet felt a chill run through her. How had she managed to misjudge the situation so badly? He’d been the perfect partner when he had had no choice but to take care of her, but while he had been fetching and carrying and making sure that her feet were up and she was getting the bed rest the doctor had recommended, he had had time and opportunity to consider his options.

  He liked her and she was his responsibility and, whilst that combination had initially propelled him into that rash marriage proposal, things had changed. He had backed away from that drastic suggestion and now saw things the way she had. Standing back at a distance, he had doubtless come to appreciate that they could have a perfectly amicable relationship without him committing to putting a ring on her finger.

  Maybe, just maybe, he had even begun casting his net out there. Maybe, just maybe, he had realised that he could have her as a friend and carry on with his Lothario ways. How many men didn’t want to have their cake and eat it? Bit by bit, she had thawed and pushed past her inherent fears that he wouldn’t turn out to be the dependable guy she needed, that he couldn’t be that person. Had she made a terrible mistake?

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asked, dismayed, as he swung off the main road, heading down a side street signposting a village, a place she had never heard of.

  ‘We need to talk and I don’t want to talk in the car. I can’t focus on the road and the conversation we have to have.’

  ‘Then let’s wait until we’re back in London.’ Violet was only now appreciating just how much she had come to rely on him and just how far she had taken it for granted that he would be thrilled were she to give ground and do what he had wanted her to do when she had first broken the news of her pregnancy. Mistakes and misjudgements all round, it would seem.

  Matt didn�
�t answer. He seemed to know this part of the world well, considering his visits to his parents were confined to four times a year, but then he would have grown up in these parts, maybe wanting to escape the claustrophobia of his ancestral home as soon as he was old enough to do so.

  Very quickly, they pulled up to a brightly lit pub. The car park was full but they managed to squeeze into a space and then, without exchanging conversation, they headed inside, where he was greeted by the landlord like an old buddy.

  They found a bench seat at the back by one of only the few tables. It was a little after ten but the place was still busy.

  Matt went up to the bar and returned with two drinks, something alcoholic for him and a glass of elderflower for her.

  ‘It’s late,’ he said gruffly. ‘There are nice rooms upstairs. I’ve booked us in for the night.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I want a drink, and I don’t do drinking and driving. Now that you’ve met my parents, Violet, you can maybe see...why my approach to relationships is somewhat, shall we say, different to yours. You long for stability. You’ve lived your life pursuing the dream of finding the perfect partner and settling down.’ He took one long mouthful of whisky and sat back to look at her. ‘I, Violet, have not.’

  ‘No,’ Violet said quietly. ‘I get that now.’

  ‘Tell me what you get.’

  ‘You never felt loved, at least not loved in the way most people acknowledge it—nothing verbal, nothing tactile,’ she ventured tentatively. ‘And if someone has never felt loved, then how do they know how to love? You’ve never done long-term relationships because you’ve never seen the point of them. In your world, there’s no such thing as love, so why would you encourage any woman to look in that direction if you know that you can’t deliver. Am I right?’

  She thought of his parents, their oppressive lack of emotion. She thought of the hopes she had nurtured of him loving her the way she loved him. Those hopes were slowly evaporating like mist on a hot summer morning. ‘You’ve had time to think things through and you’ve realised that you can’t settle down to any kind of relationship with me, even though you probably wish you could, because like you said, you have dreams of being a full-time father.’

  Violet forced herself to smile. It made her face ache. ‘Of course, you’re right, and I don’t know what I was thinking when I said that I was prepared to give things a go. It’s all working perfectly well between us as it stands! I’m more or less back on my feet as well, so I should be out of your hair very soon.’

  He was frowning and Violet banked down a surge of impatience. Was she being obtuse? She didn’t think so!

  ‘What makes you think that I’m no longer interested in marrying you?’

  ‘B-because...!’ Violet spluttered. ‘Because I can tell.’

  ‘Really? How?’

  ‘You act as though I’ve suddenly become a stranger,’ she muttered under her breath, hating him for directing the conversation down this uncomfortable road.

  ‘How do you want me to act?’

  ‘This is a ridiculous conversation,’ Violet said sharply. ‘I know the lie of the land, Matt. That’s the main thing.’

  ‘I’ve been distant because I didn’t want you to get any unrealistic ideas, should we embark on a full-time relationship.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Her voice had cooled and her brown eyes were wary and remote.

  ‘Things felt...comfortable, Violet. The way we slipped into a routine.’ He lowered his gaze, very much aware that he, too, had become disturbingly accustomed to the routine they had established.

  ‘And you thought that, because there was some kind of routine, I might start pining over what was never going to be on the table.’

  ‘I’m not a man who knows how to love. It’s the way I’m built. Can you live with that?’

  Violet shrugged but inside something had broken. Could she live with this guy, knowing that he would never love her the way she wanted him to? He was nothing if not honest and he was giving her an opt-out clause. She thought of him moving on and felt faint.

  ‘Like you said at the beginning, Matt, this isn’t just about us. This is about a baby who didn’t ask to be conceived and about giving this baby of ours the best chance in life. Sacrifices have to be made. What we have is good just the way it is... And if it’s not exactly what I had in mind for myself, then that’s life. It’s all about compromise.’

  He was looking at her carefully. ‘I’ve booked us into separate rooms.’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘I had no idea how this conversation would go.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘You tell me, Violet.’

  ‘It’s stupid to think that we can try to make a go of this without...without...’

  Matt smiled, a slow, curling smile that made her pulse race.

  ‘I’ll let them know that we’ll only need one room, shall I?’

  The exhaustion that had wiped her out when she had been at his parents’ house faded fast as they finished their drinks and made their way up to a charming, tiny bedroom with old-fashioned chintz curtains and a matching bedspread on the double bed. She felt as nervous as a kitten, and it almost made her laugh when she thought that she was carrying this man’s baby, so nerves should have been the last thing she felt as she watched him get undressed, his movements slow and casual, his eyes focused on her the whole time.

  ‘You have no idea how much I’ve missed this, Violet. Watching you...watching you grow...knowing that I shouldn’t touch.’

  He stepped towards her, naked and erect, and warmth flooded her. She crept into his arms as easily as if she belonged there and rested her head against his chest.

  ‘I’ve missed it as well,’ she responded gruffly, talking into his chest. He gently held her at arm’s length and looked at her.

  ‘Important question. Is this okay for the baby?’

  Violet laughed. ‘Of course it is!’

  ‘Good. I’d googled, out of curiosity, but who believes what they read on a computer screen?’

  ‘Ninety-nine percent of the population?’

  Matt smiled and flushed. ‘I’ve missed more than the sex, if I’m honest. I’ve missed your sense of humour.’ He swept her off her feet, took her to the bed and then stood to look down at her. Violet couldn’t help herself. She reached out and touched him and hot moisture pooled between her legs as his erect manhood pulsed against the slow, feathery brush of her finger.

  Very slowly she touched him the way she knew he liked being touched, firm and slow, and he arched back, breathing quickening as lazily she continued to arouse him, then she straddled the side of the bed, her legs apart, and licked the rigid length of his shaft. She let her hands drop to caress the sensitive skin of his inner thighs and he groaned and curled his fingers into her hair, directing her mouth. He finally drew her away with a shudder.

  ‘No way are you going to take me there with your mouth,’ he chastised her in a roughened undertone and she grinned back at him.

  This felt so good, so right—as though they were meant to be with one another. She locked seditious thoughts away, thoughts of the impossible. He had set her straight on how he felt and, having met his parents, she could see how he had ended up as he had, the key to his heart thrown out like so much useless garbage. But they would be together and, if this was second best, then she would accept that.

  She began undressing and desire bloomed even more because he was watching her with that way he had, focused and intense, as though even her slightest movements were a source of fascination for him.

  He helped her, in the end. He couldn’t resist. Her clothes joined his on the ground and they managed to rid the bed of the chintz spread, laughing as they peeled it back while trying to hold one another at the same time. That, too, ended up in a crumpled bundle on the ground.

 
She was naked and it felt liberating.

  He reverently stroked her swollen stomach.

  ‘Your breasts have grown,’ he murmured. ‘I’d wondered. Fantasised. Having you share the apartment with me was a test of willpower I never knew I possessed. So don’t try to stop me from exploring every inch of your body now.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

  He curved his hand to cup a breast and held it as though weighing it up for size, then he rolled the pad of his thumb over her nipple and felt it stiffen under his finger.

  Her breasts had grown, as had her nipples, which had darkened into big, circular discs.

  One touch and Matt knew that he wouldn’t be able to steel himself from coming in an undignified premature ejaculation. He closed his eyes and nuzzled the softness of her breasts, eliciting little whimpers of pleasure, then he suckled on her nipple, teasing the stiffened tip with his tongue and simultaneously curving his hand between her thighs so that he could feel the dampness between her legs.

  She relaxed against the pressure of his hand there. She arched back in a gesture that was gratifyingly and seductively submissive. Submission wasn’t something she did and her unconscious desire to yield to him was a massive turn-on.

  The swell of her stomach was a massive turn-on as well.

  He nudged into her gently, levering himself in just the perfect position to appreciate her. He moved slowly and firmly, taking his time and gritting his teeth because he wanted to do just the opposite, but, God, he wanted to make this last. It felt as if it had been a long time coming.

  Violet succumbed to the surge of indescribable pleasure as one gentle thrust almost took her over the edge. She clung to him and wrapped her legs around his waist. Like this, in the heat of the moment, she could sneak a glance at his face. His eyes were glazed with desire as he pushed into her. He wasn’t registering her and, for a few seconds, she could luxuriate in looking at him with absolute love.

  Forbidden love. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply as sensation spiralled, wiping out frustrating thoughts. He was moving faster now, his thrusts deeper and, oh, so satisfying. It had been a long time. It felt like years.