Wedding-Night Baby

by Kim Lawrence

  She didn’t protest even though his reason sounded pretty thin; she might be a bit restricted but she could still climb in and out of a bath. It was a little like living out a part of her fantasy. A fantasy of having him close, cherishing her the way a lover—in the true sense of the word—would. If this child had been the result of a true, loving relationship this wouldn’t be a fantasy, it would be real. Her starved senses had to be content with the illusion of intimacy.

  Wordlessly he soaped her back and the heavy fullness of her breasts, his eyes examining the darkened aureoles of her nipples with open curiosity. Her body tingled from his gentle ministrations. He seemed fascinated by her body and she was content to watch the water slide off his sinewed forearms through half-closed eyes. She felt warm, relaxed and strangely at peace.

  Later he joined her as she lay on the bed, and began to rub oil into the stretched skin of her abdomen. ‘That’s not too hard, is it?’ he asked sharply as her back arched under his touch.

  She turned her head on the pillow and he brushed aside a strand of rich hair that fell across her flushed cheek. The action revealed the faint shadow of a bruise as she murmured a husky denial. He turned his head abruptly and she could sense his tension.

  ‘This must be pretty boring for you,’ she said apologetically.

  ‘Boring?’ he snarled, and she was shocked by the harshness in his voice. ‘I’d hardly call it that. An exercise in self-restraint and a voyage of discovery is closer to the mark.’ He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and made her look him straight in the face. ‘I’m trying not to think of making love to you, but it’s hard. Very hard.’

  She could hardly believe he meant it! He found her attractive... like this! The fierce light in his dense blue eyes and the compulsive way they ran over her body confirmed the admission that seemed to have been dragged from him against his will.

  ‘You even smell more...female,’ he rasped.

  ‘I do?’

  ‘You do.’ A faint, half-mocking smile lifted the corners of his sensual mouth.

  ‘Being pregnant makes some senses, like smell and taste, very acute. You smell awfully good,’ she confided. ‘And taste.’ Her tongue flicked across her lips and her eyes fixed reflectively on the deep V of tanned skin that showed where his shirt was unbuttoned.

  He caught his breath audibly and with a groan rolled to one side and sat upright. ‘You have a good line in torture. Or had you forgotten what the doctor said?’

  His words broke the sensual glow that had filled her. Mortified, she hurriedly pulled a sheet over her naked form. She had needed him to remind her! ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. Why wasn’t she just content with being close? she wondered despairingly.

  ‘I want this baby too and you mustn’t worry that I’ll do anything to jeopardise that.’ A faint flush highlighted the slanted line of his high cheekbones.

  ‘It wasn’t your fault. I... I...’ She stumbled to say the right thing, then, unbidden, the last thing she intended to say fell from her lips. ‘It seems like such a long time since anyone held me. God, why did I say that?’ she wondered as tears welled in her eyes. ‘It’s all hormonal; I’m practically keeping the tissue companies in profit single-handed,’ she wailed.

  Callum had been about to say it probably wasn’t such a good idea if he shared the same room and he wasn’t sure he could cope with the constant temptation, when her outburst made him bite back the comment. He felt like all manner of selfish swine as she sobbed.

  ‘I’ll be around to hug you any time you want. I’m here to make sure you have a trouble-free pregnancy,’ he joked, stroking her hair in a soothing fashion.

  She looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. ‘I wouldn’t like to be an imposition.’ She sniffed.

  ‘God, I could shake you—’ The sound of distant voices drifting up the stairs cut off his comment. Annoyance flashed across his face. ‘I invited the Duponts to dinner,’ he recalled, glancing at his wrist, but he’d left his watch in the bathroom. ‘I didn’t realise it was that time.’ He leapt up and began straightening his shirt. ‘Fortunately the cassoulet won’t burn,’ he observed, whipping an impatient hand through his hair.

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ she said, hating the idea of spending an evening with two total strangers, one of whom loathed her.

  ‘I don’t have time to subtly coax you, Georgina,’ he said in an exasperated tone. ‘Be down in fifteen minutes or I’ll carry you down.’

  She glared at the empty doorway, but she got up anyway. Knowing Callum, he was quite capable of fitting action to his words.

  CHAPTER TEN

  EXACTLY fifteen minutes later Georgina stood outside the kitchen doorway trying to compose her feelings. The wide-legged silky trousers had a tie waist that expanded to accommodate her bulk and she’d topped the green silk shirt with a long waistcoat. The light covering of make-up disguised the worst of the damage that her short emotional outburst had caused. Inside she was still writhing with discomfort at behaving like a clinging female. Callum might be the father of her child but she knew she had no real call on his loyalty.

  She was actually about to step over the threshold when the words hit her.

  ‘How does he know the baby is his? That’s what I’d like to know. You know Callum and that moral streak of his. She’s probably just an opportunist.’

  ‘Josie!’ came the hissed response. ‘I hope you’re not going to say anything like that in front of Callum.’

  ‘Perhaps someone should.’

  ‘Callum is more than capable of sorting out his own affairs,’ came the dry, disembodied response.

  ‘Did I hear my name being bandied around?’

  Georgina felt a blast of cold air and heard the sound of the door closing. She realised her legs were trembling. I can’t cope with this, she thought, swallowing the sour taste in her mouth. Then her pride came to her rescue. Why should I let that woman drive me away? she thought as revitalising temper whipped along her veins. Eyes sparkling with anger, she tossed her hair back and stepped into the room.

  On the sofa covered with a vividly printed throw sat Josie and a man she assumed to be Greg. She only spared them a fleeting glance as her eyes were drawn automatically to Callum. He was standing beside the range, filling it from a basket of logs at his feet. He straightened up as she stalked in and regarded her quizzically. The room was warm from the heat thrown out by the cast-iron monster, but it had little to do with the colour in her cheeks.

  She realised that everyone was staring at her expectantly. She had sailed in there full of righteous indignation, but what was she meant to do now? Clearly Callum hadn’t heard the other girl’s comments and even if he had he probably would only consider them reasonable observations from a friend with his best interests at heart. A friend who knew him better than she did. She suddenly felt extremely foolish standing there.

  ‘You haven’t met Greg yet, have you, Georgina?’ Callum broke the lengthening pause.

  There was none of the antagonism of his sister’s expression in the face of the craggy-looking individual who rose to his feet with his hand extended. ‘Nice to meet you, Georgina. I’d say Callum has told me a lot about you, but if you know Callum you’ll know that would be a falsehood. Could teach clams a thing or two, could our Cal.’ He sent his friend a swift grin. ‘You look like you survived the journey pretty well. I hope you won’t take offence if I say you give a new meaning to the word “glow.”’

  ‘She won’t, but I might, Casanova,’ Callum observed drily. ‘Sit, Georgina. Remember what the doctor said don’t stand if you can sit and don’t sit if you can lie down.’

  ‘Advice like that is what got her into this condition in the first place, isn’t it?’

  Josie’s brother shot Josie a despairing look and smiled apologetically at Georgina. He spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture, clearly distancing himself from the catty comment. Two spots of bright colour lit the brunette’s cheeks as she returned her brother’s look with defiance, but
the quick glance she slid in Callum’s direction was clearly apprehensive.

  ‘Sit here, Georgina.’ He gently pushed her immobile figure into a large armchair. It was impossible to tell from his expression what he was thinking. ‘Georgina didn’t get into that condition—’ his lips moved in a moue of distaste as he brushed the dust from the logs off his hands ‘—alone,’ he finished scathingly.

  His blue eyes didn’t soften as the other girl’s lips quivered. The warning in his voice was impossible to miss. He was staking his claim to the child very clearly and Georgina felt a spasm of alarm. Once it was born she might very well be obsolete from his point of view. She couldn’t quell the uncomfortable speculation.

  Georgina saw from the single glance she received from Josie that she’d made an enemy. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling!

  Surprisingly the rest of the evening wasn’t as awful as it should have been. The undercurrents stayed under, which was uncomfortable but not as bad as outright warfare.

  ‘I didn’t know you could cook,’ Georgina observed as Callum removed her plate and refilled her glass with mineral water. Everyone else was drinking wine.

  ‘Good peasant stuff isn’t beyond me, but I draw the line at fancy sauces.’

  ‘I didn’t think anyone could cook on that antique,’ she replied huskily. He didn’t smile naturally at her often, but when he did—like now—the charismatic impact was breathtaking.

  ‘Don’t let Mathilde hear you denigrate it; she refuses to have anything to do with the electric cooker.’

  Anyone would have thought she’d be able to cope with this most unemotional of subjects, she thought despairingly. Why did she have this sudden overwhelming urge to weep? Just because there had been no suspicious shadows in his smile and she’d wished that it could always be that way. She turned her attention to Greg, hoping his calm, laid-back humour would help her regain her shredded composure. ‘What part of America are you from?’

  ‘Canada,’ he corrected her with a laugh.

  ‘Sorry. I’m not up to detecting regional variations,’ she apologised with a smile.

  ‘Our family are wine-makers too, and although Canadian wine has had an indifferent reputation up until recently we’re in the middle of a renaissance.’

  ‘And you’re here missing it all,’ she teased.

  ‘Callum’s enthusiasm can be contagious,’ he responded, his eyes flicking an amused look in his friend’s direction. ‘Everyone said you couldn’t make a top-class wine somewhere where the summers are hot and the winters cold but we did in Canada. This part of France has always produced wines, but not the really top-class stuff; Callum intends to change all that by bringing a little New World know-how to bear. As a French Canadian I found the challenge of getting back to my roots irresistible.’

  ‘I’m sure Georgina’s not interested in wine-making,’ Josie put in with a superior smile.

  ‘As a matter of fact I’d love to hear more. Callum’s suggested I get involved with the marketing side of things next year,’ Georgina contradicted her. ‘Perhaps I could have a guided tour.’ She smiled at Greg.

  ‘I’ll do that,’ Callum said quickly.

  ‘You’ll be too busy being the little home-maker and mother to give the sort of professional input we’ll need. I’d hate to feel we made you neglect your responsibilities.’

  ‘If I do decide to take this project on I’ll fulfil my obligations,’ Georgina responded.

  ‘If I had a child I think I’d want to devote myself to doing that well before I started dabbling in other things.’

  ‘I don’t dabble.’

  ‘Sorry, no offence intended,’ Josie said with an apologetic smile that encompassed the silently observant Callum.

  Like hell, Georgina thought, summoning a sickly-sweet smile.

  ‘I’m sure Josie’s only concerned that you don’t overextend yourself,’ Callum said.

  ‘You made the offer,’ she fired back indignantly. ‘Or didn’t you mean it?’

  ‘I think it’s a great idea,’ Greg announced. ‘Keep it in the family,’ he continued, cheerfully oblivious to the embarrassment his observation had created.

  ‘We’ve known Callum for years; Greg and I think of him as family. When did you meet him?’ Josie asked.

  ‘We met... at a wedding.’ Callum threw Georgina a taunting look before he turned his attention back to their guests.

  Georgina swallowed, hoping he wouldn’t elaborate on this theme too fully. She shot him an apprehensive look from beneath the sweep of her lashes.

  ‘Whose wedding?’ Josie persisted in a disgruntled tone.

  ‘My cousin’s,’ Georgina replied quietly. What had the girl expected to hear? That he’d picked her up in some bar? Josie would have a field-day if she knew how much more scandalous the innocent-sounding situation had been.

  A violent clatter outside startled them all. ‘What was that?’ Georgina asked sharply.

  ‘The wind here gets pretty violent sometimes,’ Callum said calmly, getting to his feet. ‘It’ll be that temporary roof on the barn,’ he said to Greg with a grimace. ‘I meant to secure it before the winter. We’d better see what the damage is.’ He pulled a jacket down from the old-fashioned coatstand by the door. ‘No, Josie, you stay with Georgina,’ he said as the girl began to pull on her outer garment.

  Josie’s expression and the reluctance with which she removed her coat revealed clearly that she didn’t much care for this instruction. ‘I could help,’ she muttered. The scathing look she sent in Georgina’s direction made it clear that she despised anyone who wasn’t equally physically capable.

  ‘Is it safe?’ Georgina asked in a distracted voice. The screeching wind sounded pretty ferocious to her.

  ‘I’m touched by your concern.’ Callum’s contemplative look made her raw nerve-endings scream.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be more sensible to wait until the wind drops?’ she persisted. She couldn’t dispel the image in her mind of Callum lying unconscious under the branches of a fallen tree.

  ‘Don’t worry, Georgina; I’ll put my foot down if the man gets any heroic ideas.’ Greg pulled his hat down firmly over his ears and grinned.

  She realised, a bit belatedly, that she’d done the concern a little too thoroughly for comfort. ‘I expect he can take care of himself,’ she mumbled distantly.

  She froze with shock when Callum unexpectedly moved to her side and kissed her very firmly full on the mouth. The texture of his lips, the warmth and taste of him made her knees grow weak and created a distant buzzing in her ears. ‘I can, but it’s nice to have someone to worry about me.’ His eyes stayed briefly on her upturned face before he turned abruptly and left.

  Georgina felt the icy draught from the door that moved the cups hooked on the large dresser but she was hardly affected by the cold, warmed as she was by the glow his kiss had lit inside her.

  ‘He doesn’t love you, you know!’

  The shrill words brought her rudely down to earth with a crash. Josie was pacing the floor, two bright patches of angry colour staining her cheeks. Her silence appeared to infuriate the girl further.

  ‘He just feels responsible because of the baby. You’ve ruined his life,’ she accused shrilly. ‘You think you’ve been so clever, but before you trapped him we—’ She bit back a choked sob of rage.

  There wasn’t much point in trying to reason with such passion, Georgina decided. She almost felt sorry for the young woman, who obviously found it impossible to disguise her feelings. Besides, what Josie had said was essentially true. She might not have deliberately set out to trap Callum, but the end result was much the same. Her heart twisted painfully in her breast as she strove to compose her feelings before speaking. Why are my hands so cold? she wondered, looking at her fingertips spread out on the table. She squeezed her fingers into fists and watched her knuckles grow white and bloodless.

  ‘I didn’t deliberately create this situation.’

  ‘You could have got rid of it!’ Josie yelled.
<
br />   Georgina rose to her feet, quivering with a deep sense of outrage. ‘I want this child and, whether you like it or not, so does Callum.’ Her eyes swept disparagingly over the brunette’s face.

  ‘He doesn’t want you.’

  Georgina paled, aware that she couldn’t deny this.

  ‘I suppose the situation has a certain novelty value at the moment,’ Josie continued, with a mocking laugh. ‘If he wanted to play happy families with you surely he’d have married you? But Callum’s too practical to tie himself down to some avaricious little tramp!’

  Georgina placed her hands palm down on the table to support her weight. Her knees were shaking with reaction to the verbal onslaught. If he had loved her, or even if she hadn’t loved him, the words would have glanced off her as the jealous, spiteful remarks that they were—but he didn’t and she did! Each poisonous dart found its target.

  The door hit the wall as the two men returned. Greg leant against it to close it against the wind. ‘Get your coat on, Josie,’ he said, panting from his exertions. ‘I want to get back to the cottage before a tree or something blocks the road. It’s rough out there tonight,’ he observed, with almost British understatement.

  And in here, Georgina thought, smothering a bubble of hysteria.

  ‘Couldn’t we stay here?’

  Georgina hardly heard the brief argument that ensued between brother and sister. She couldn’t take her eyes off Callum and the small, jagged tear in his cheek that oozed a trickle of blood. If he’d been badly injured or worse...! Devastation was just a thought away and she knew it—knew how much she needed him, how her life was inextricably linked with his. I can’t tell him, ever! she thought.

  Even if Josie wasn’t the one, one day there would be a woman he loved and then what would become of her? Her feverish mind went up a gear as she imagined fierce custody battles. Could she cope with seeing her child accompany the man she loved and his partner for days out, let alone anything more permanent?

  ‘You’re hurt!’ Josie cried, shrugging off her brother’s restraining hand and rushing to Callum’s side, dark, dramatic and beautiful.