Jack's Baby

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Jack's Baby Page 5

by Emma Darcy


  Her desire-drenched mind thrilled to the constancy he avowed…until slowly, inexorably, it grasped the logic of what he was saying.

  He wouldn’t let Charlotte get in the way.

  Which surely meant he would resent their child if she did. It was all too easy to forget her, not take her into account at all while she slept, a silent, non-interfering presence. But it wouldn’t stay like that.

  “Charlotte.” It was a husky croak, loaded with the guilt of her own forgetfulness.

  “She’s okay for a minute or two.”

  “No.” Nina scrabbled for the release mechanism on her seat belt, jerking her head away from Jack’s tempting touch and dropping her gaze from the heart-searing heat of his. “I don’t want to talk about this now, Jack. I want to get unpacked and settled into my flat again.”

  “I wasn’t blaming you for the decision you made, Nina, just regretting the waste of time,” he said softly. “It’s made me very conscious of not wasting any more of it.”

  “Fine! Let’s get moving.”

  The seat belt zipped away. She opened the passenger door and leapt out of the cabin before Jack could detain her further. Her legs almost crumpled under her. She had to hang onto the door to steady herself. The physical upheaval of giving birth to a baby was debilitating enough without adding sexual and emotional upheavals.

  Nina instantly vowed to keep Jack at a firm distance until she could gauge his real reactions to having a baby in their lives. She didn’t want to be torn in two by conflicting loves. If she gave in to what she felt for Jack now, it would only make everything ten times worse if she had to part from him for Charlotte’s sake.

  “Are you all right?” he asked in concern.

  “Yes.” Apart from being hopelessly vulnerable to you, she added, silently railing at her weakness. She scooped her handbag from the floor in front of the passenger seat, shut the door and leaned against it, willing herself to be strong as Jack alighted from the driver’s side.

  He didn’t press her. Much to Nina’s relief, he set about the business of releasing Charlotte’s capsule and collecting her suitcase from the back of the Rover. He carried both, leaving Nina to lead the way down the side path to her flat at the back of Sally’s house. Her legs were still shaky, but she managed the walk with some dignity, grateful that Jack had assumed the role of porter.

  All the lights were on, a welcoming gesture from Sally, no doubt. Nina unlocked the door and waved him inside, acutely conscious of the danger inherent in letting Jack invade her home, yet aware of how unfair and ungracious it would be to deny him entry. He would respect her wishes, she assured herself. All she had to do was take control of the situation and remain firm, no matter how persuasive Jack set out to be.

  “Straight into the bedroom?” he asked quietly, nodding at Charlotte.

  “Yes, please,” she whispered, flushing at the reminder of having shared a bedroom with him many times in the past.

  Having been let in by Sally to provision the refrigerator earlier today, Jack was clearly familiar with the layout of the flat. Nina watched him manoeuvre the capsule and suitcase down the narrow hall, past the bathroom and laundry. The bedroom door was open. There was no need for Nina to accompany him or follow him. Better to keep her distance.

  She stepped into the kitchenette, feeling more protected by the cupboards and countertops that hemmed the limited moving space. Having checked the electric kettle and found it full of water, she switched it on. After all the trouble Jack had gone to for her today, it was impossible to send him away without offering him at least a cup of tea.

  As she waited for the water to boil, Nina took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her skittering nerves and flicked her gaze around the living area she had made her own, needing to regain the sense of independence it had given her. Jack probably thought it was small and cramped, but she had it arranged to suit her convenience.

  The two-seater cane lounge and matching armchairs were grouped on the window side of the living room, a coffee table handily placed. On the other side was her sewing machine. Behind it on the wall was a huge corkboard, organised to hold all her reels of cotton, scissors, measuring sticks and other tools of her trade. At the end of the room was the television set and her sound system, so she could watch a program or listen to music as she worked or relaxed.

  The mottled beige tiles on the floor were easy to keep clean. She had made the cushion covers and curtains herself in a bright, fresh fabric patterned in lemon and white and lime green. A bowl of brilliant lemon chrysanthemums sat on the coffee table, a welcome home gift from Sally, Nina figured. She’d left Jack’s roses at the hospital for Rhonda and Kim to enjoy. An arrangement of three dozen was difficult to transport.

  Jack had probably frowned over the wooden planks under the legs of the dining table. They effectively raised it to a convenient height for measuring and cutting fabric. She didn’t use the table for meals, preferring to keep it for work. Normally she perched on a stool at the kitchen counter to eat or drink. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t looking after herself properly.

  She heard Jack coming from the bedroom and hastily set out cups and saucers. By opening the refrigerator door, she effectively blocked the path into the kitchenette. Nina only meant to get out milk and direct Jack to the other side of the kitchen counter. However, the stacked contents of the refrigerator completely distracted her.

  “All quiet on the Western Front,” Jack declared cheerfully.

  Nina barely heard him. Apart from an incredible array of delicatessen goods loading up the shelves, the meat tray contained great slabs of steak, at least a dozen rashers of bacon, piles of chops and sausages, and the vegetable containers were chock-a-block with items from the greengrocers.

  “I’ll never eat all this,” she said dazedly.

  “I’ll help you,” came the confident reply.

  Warning tingles ran down her spine. Nina forgot about the milk. She shut the refrigerator door and swung around to face a more pressing problem. Jack shot his most dazzling smile at her across the counter that separated them, and Nina felt her resolution fraying at the edges. He was making it so hard for her to hang onto common sense. Desperation drove a steely tone into her voice.

  “Are you planning on having meals with me, Jack?”

  His eyebrows lifted in appeal. “I thought I’d come over after work and cook dinner for us. It’ll give you a rest in between the two evening feeds for the kid.”

  “That’s very considerate of you.” He was taking over. Just walking in and taking over as he pleased. Intent on claiming whatever time she had free from the baby. Nina gritted her teeth in determined resistance to his infiltration tactics. “Are you thinking of cooking breakfast for me, too?”

  “Well, uh…” He hesitated, taking in the dangerous glitter in her eyes. “It’s not a good idea?” he asked cautiously.

  “Not if you’re assuming you can stay overnight with me any time you like,” she answered angrily.

  “Not any time, Nina. Naturally I’ll do whatever’s best for you,” he hastily assured her, then changed his expression to anxious concern. “But I am worried about tonight. Everyone says the first night home with a new baby is scary. No expert to call on…”

  “And you consider yourself an expert?” Nina heard her voice rise to a shrill note.

  “I meant it’s lonely,” he swiftly amended. “I don’t like to think of you being by yourself, Nina. What if you have a bad night with the kid? No one to talk to…”

  “No one to hold me and comfort me and kiss everything better. Is that the idea, Jack?” Wanting to satisfy his hunger for her, never mind what had to be done for the baby.

  He frowned at her brittle manner. “I just want to be here for you, Nina.”

  He sounded so genuine. The look of caring in his eyes was almost her undoing. Her heart seemed to be pounding in her ears. She wanted his love, wanted to feel it surround her, seep into her, possess her to the point of losing herself entirely in him.
But he only wanted to be here for her, and that wasn’t enough. It simply wasn’t enough.

  If only he cared as much about Charlotte.

  She closed her eyes, gathered the will to sort through her priorities again, knew she couldn’t battle with her dilemma any more tonight and took the only escape route open to her.

  “I want you to go now, Jack.”

  “But, Nina…”

  She opened her eyes, anguished by his persistence. “Please.”

  He looked hurt and bewildered. “Why? What have I done wrong?”

  “Don’t argue with me,” she cried in desperation. Frantic to end the torment he stirred, she rushed to the door and opened it for him to leave. “Please. It’s been a long day for me. I need time and space for myself, Jack.”

  He moved reluctantly, his eyes urgently scanning hers, wanting a reason for what he saw as incomprehensible behaviour. He lifted his hands, gesturing his willingness to appease whatever was troubling her. “What if—?”

  “No!” She shook her head vehemently. “It’s too much, too soon. Good night, Jack. Thank you for bringing us home, but I really do need you to go now.”

  “All right,” he said gently, seeing she was too stressed to discuss the matter further. “Good night, Nina. Say good night to the kid for me.”

  The kid.

  He left.

  Nina closed the door after him and promptly burst into tears.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  WHAT had he done wrong?

  The question plagued Jack as he roamed disconsolately around the collection of antiques that had been delivered this afternoon. Normally he would be excited by the challenge of restoring the damaged pieces, keenly studying how it could best be done. He couldn’t find any enthusiasm for it tonight. Nothing was working for him. Except for his dog, who was trailing him around, offering his loyal companionship.

  “She shut me out again, Spike,” he said, heaving a woebegone sigh.

  Man’s best friend cocked his head, giving him a doleful look of sympathy, then sprang up to rest his front paws on Jack’s chest, his tongue out, ready to lick everything better if Jack obliged by bending his head close enough. The weight of the huge, black and white shaggy beast would have knocked most people down, but Spike knew how to balance nicely when it was a matter of love and respect.

  Jack looked fondly on him. “You’re a great dog, Spike, but I’ve got to tell you, your breath isn’t as sweet as Nina’s.”

  A whistling whine, begging favour.

  Jack gave him a rueful smile and ruffled the fur behind his ears, earning a look of adoration that let Jack know Spike was absolutely steadfast in his love and devotion, no confusing or obscure responses and reactions coming from him. Jack was the central focus of his world, and there was no shifting him from that outlook. Spike knew what was good for him.

  It was a pity people weren’t more like dogs, Jack thought, brooding over all he’d done today to get things right between him and Nina. He was good for her. He knew he was. Why didn’t she recognise it? Why wasn’t she welcoming it? What more could he have done to show her he meant what he said?

  “Maybe dogs are smarter than people,” he confided to Spike. “People should think less and trust their instincts more.”

  Spike panted agreement.

  Jack reflected, with perfect justification, that there had been no confusion at all in Nina’s response when he’d kissed her. He’d felt the electric current of desire charging through both of them, highly mutual, fantastically mutual. No possible mistake about it. Nina still wanted him. Whatever was muddling her mind was a frustrating mystery, but her body was definitely in harmony with his.

  Jack felt himself stir just thinking about it. He’d been celibate for so long, all his hormones were zinging with excitement at the promise of knowing satisfaction again. Real satisfaction. Special satisfaction. It had always been special with Nina. She was his woman, pure and simple. Somehow he had to work out how to convince her he was her man. There was no point in even looking at any of this furniture until he’d figured out what to do about his problem with Nina.

  With more than one appetite reawakened, Jack realised the empty feeling inside him could be attributed to a more pedantic hunger. “Let’s go and find something to eat, Spike.”

  With a bright yelp of encouragement, the part kelpie, part collie, part Doberman, part several other breeds including, Jack suspected, great Dane, leapt down and bounded over to the door that led into the house. Why couldn’t people be as simple and direct? Jack wondered with another niggle of frustration. He and Spike had no problem understanding each other.

  They headed for the kitchen together. It was handily situated to what had once been the triple garage. Jack didn’t mind his two apprentices ducking in to make coffee or get a snack. He’d always figured work flowed more easily if people felt at home. Sharing meals had seemed a good way of getting Nina to feel at home with him.

  Too much, too soon, she had said, but he couldn’t see why. The path to getting back together again was going to be very difficult if she kept shutting him out.

  Jack opened the refrigerator and took out one of the meaty bones he’d got from the butcher that morning. “Here you are, Spike. It’s your favourite. Ham.”

  Spike clutched it eagerly in his jaws, growling approval and appreciation, wagging his bushy tail in delight as he retired to his corner of the kitchen. He settled down, his position protected from attack from behind and on the flank by the two walls, his fiercely watchful eyes defying any approach from the front. Spike jealously guarded his bones, instinctively suspicious of any movement towards him. Protection was top priority. Even Jack was persona non grata if he moved too close.

  Too close. The thought caught and held. Was that what Nina was guarding against, letting him get too close? Protecting herself and the baby in case he hadn’t really changed his attitude about children? She kept harping back to that argument. Understandable enough, since she’d been feeding it through her brain for the past eight months.

  Jack pondered this possibility as he collected some cheese and pickles, took some crackers from the pantry and settled down at the bar counter to chew over the situation. It could be the kid confusing Nina, distorting what was perfectly plain and straightforward to him.

  Basically the kid was a side product of what they felt for each other. Naturally he accepted it, now that he knew about it. What kind of man would he be if he didn’t? He would have accepted it eight months ago, too. Nina had got herself all cock-eyed about that.

  Maybe she didn’t want to share it with him. Like Spike with his bone. He reconsidered Nina’s behaviour in the same light as his dog’s current attitude—wary and watchful and ready to pounce on anything questionable and fight like the devil. Possessive and protective. It could explain a lot.

  Though there was one difference. Jack knew he could still get to Nina on a one-to-one level. Maybe that was what she was afraid of, knowing he could slip past her defences despite being hellbent on protecting the kid. Yet what was she expecting him to do? Take the kid away from her? Be jealous of her natural mother love? It was ridiculous.

  “You can vouch for my character, can’t you, Spike?”

  The dog looked up, alert and attentive.

  “Have I ever done you wrong?”

  Spike growled at the idea.

  “Of course not. You’d defend me to the death, wouldn’t you?”

  A bark of assent.

  “We know I’m the salt of the earth. And Nina should know, too. But if she’s gnawing at that old bone of contention all the time…It could be the answer, Spike.”

  A darker growl.

  “You’re right. She should know better. Thanks for helping me out, Spike. You’re a great source of inspiration.”

  Understanding that the conversation was over and having given satisfaction, man’s best friend returned to feeding his own satisfaction. He knew there was more in a bone than there was on the surface.

  Th
e idea of Nina shutting him out because she didn’t trust him to behave as a father should did not sit well with Jack. It was extremely offensive to him. If that was Nina’s belief, he had to set her straight. He could be as good a father as anyone else. Better. After all, he’d heard most of the complaints new parents made about each other, so he could work out how to circumvent them.

  First thing tomorrow he’d call Maurice and arrange to have nappy-changing lessons from Ingrid. The criticism that fathers were inept or useless at such a task was not going to apply to him. As for Nina scoffing about him being an expert on babies, well, why couldn’t he become one? There had to be plenty of books on baby problems.

  He’d much prefer Nina to be leaning on him for advice and support than shutting him out. In fact, the more she leaned on him, the more likely she was to want what he wanted. Once they could make love again, Jack was sure everything would be fine between them. The fabulous fusion of their bodies into one, the glorious sense of ecstatic fulfilment, the deep intimacy of sharing the excitement and the aftermath…Jack wanted all that very badly.

  This kid thing was not going to beat him.

  Or break them up.

  Feeling much more cheerful about the situation, Jack cut off a big chunk of cheese, spread it with pickles and bit into it with relish. Tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow he would knock Nina’s worries about his fatherly fitness right on the head. She wouldn’t shut him out again. No, sir.

  “Here comes your dad, kid,” he said out loud, enjoying the ring of it. “Here comes your dad.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE knock on the connecting door from the flat to the house had to be Sally’s. Nina smiled as she called, “Come in!” It was eight-thirty, the time Sally usually checked in with her each morning to discuss the business of the day. The return to routine gave Nina a comforting sense of normality and security. She needed it after the tumult of uncertainty Jack had stirred last night.

  The door near the far corner of the living room opened, and Sally popped her head around, waggling her highly mobile eyebrows. “I’m not disturbing anything?”

 

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