Jack's Baby

by Emma Darcy

  “Obliging attitude?” she queried, her eyebrows waggling madly in the direction of the granny flat.

  “He offered to mind Charlotte. I didn’t have to ask.” Nina rushed the words out.

  “Great attitude!”

  “He said he’d had nappy-changing practice.” Incredulity was still bombarding her mind.

  “Fantastic attitude!”

  “And Charlotte was working up to dirtying her nappy when I left.”

  Sally laughed in delight. “That’ll test him.”

  Nina was too concerned about the outcome to laugh. She pulled out of Sally’s hold. “I’ve got to go. I’ll collect the wedding dress in the morning.”

  “Don’t forget the reward,” Sally called after her and merrily started trilling her favourite song, Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March”.

  Which was certainly jumping the gun, in Nina’s opinion. Even if Jack had managed to get through tonight’s testing ground without major damage to the attitude he’d adopted, it was only a start in the right direction. Nina couldn’t blind herself to the consequences of making a wrong decision with him, no matter how much she wanted everything to turn out well.

  Hope and desire were traps. When Jack was with her, Nina found it impossible not to respond to him. He tapped so many feelings in her it was all too easy to fall into those traps. If she wasn’t careful, she’d find herself making excuses and compromises instead of facing up to realities.

  A panicky tension gripped her as she reached the door to the flat. With her fingers grasping the handle, she paused and forced herself to take a long, deep breath. To appear in an emotional flap would give the wrong signals. Jack had asked her to trust him. She had to assume everything was fine.

  She also had to watch out for signals herself, bring an objective view to the scene. Jack might try covering up his real thoughts and feelings about the baby for her sake, but they would come out in the end. No one could hide the truth forever, and once resentments could no longer be contained, they had the potential to explode with devastating effect.

  Having cautioned and calmed herself as best she could, Nina turned the handle and started to open the door, keenly listening for the sound of trouble—a cry from Charlotte, a curse from Jack, a muttered imprecation against children in general and the twist of fate that had bedevilled his life plan.

  Music. Nothing but music playing at a reasonable volume. Nina recognised one of the Beatles’ songs. Not exactly a lullaby. Ringo’s drumbeat was not in the somnolent category, more in the foot-tapping, hand-clapping class. Jack was very fond of the Beatles’ music, but what of Charlotte?

  Nina peered around the door, seeking some hint of what she was about to confront. Jack was sprawled in the cane armchair closest to the kitchenette and facing in her direction. He was half-hidden by the Herald, its large pages propped on his thighs and held up in front of him so Nina could only see his hair above them. Apparently he was engrossed in reading an article and hadn’t heard the door open.

  Charlotte’s capsule lay on the floor between Jack’s armchair and the lounge. Nina couldn’t see over the raised end of it to check the baby, but concluded she must be asleep. There was not a peep out of her. A glance at the kitchen counter assured Nina Jack had cleaned up after their meal, as promised.

  Relief washed through her. His relaxed air, Charlotte’s silence, work all done, no evidence of any trauma—nothing for Nina to worry over. Relief was swiftly followed by pleasurable amazement. Jack’s confidence in his competence was not misplaced. This was a better start than Nina could ever have credited, given the unpropitious circumstances.

  Curious to see how well he had managed the nappy-change and reclothing Charlotte, Nina very quietly closed the door behind her and tiptoed forward. Her heart missed a beat when she saw that the capsule was empty.

  “What have you done with Charlotte?” The question flew off her tongue, alarm rising rapidly and giving her voice a sharp edge.

  The newspaper was instantly twitched down, Jack’s face appearing above it, beaming surprised delight. “You’re finished already. Everything go well?”

  “Jack, where is Charlotte?” She gritted the words out, holding herself back from flying at him tooth and claw.

  “Right here,” he answered blithely, lowering the newspaper to his knees so she could see. “Just like a puppy,” he said, smiling at the baby clinging like a limpet to his chest. Without any support whatsoever!

  “A puppy?” Nina repeated, dazed, alarm subsiding into shock.

  “You know how puppies snuggle up to their mother, hanging all over her. Or if she’s left them alone, they go into a huddle, clutching onto each other,” Jack expounded happily. “Must be the warmth or the comfort of another heartbeat.”

  “Right!” Nina agreed limply.

  It was a strain, holding herself back from rushing forward and snatching Charlotte off his chest. She told herself Jack’s arms were in a good position to halt Charlotte from rolling off him, and he was leaning back in the chair, so it wasn’t likely she would flop backwards. Apart from which, Jack liked dogs. It was okay for him to compare Charlotte to a puppy. It was a good sign he was viewing her favourably. Fondly.

  “Must be instinctive,” he concluded.

  It could be called bonding, Nina thought, trying to look on the bright side as she cast an eagle eye over her baby. Charlotte wasn’t moving. The nappy bulge looked right. The press studs on the body suit were all matched up, fastened properly. Nothing was askew.

  “How come you picked her up?” Nina asked, curious to know more of how Jack thought about their child. She hadn’t expected him to bother with her beyond the necessary.

  He gave a funny grimace. “She took a dislike to one of the songs and started yelling her disapproval. I tried telling her why she should appreciate it but she wouldn’t listen until I got her up close to me.”

  “And then she fell asleep on you?”

  Jack heaved a rueful sigh. “I think I must have bored her with musical technicalities. Or it was too much for her to take in. She is only little.”

  Nina giggled. She couldn’t help it. Jack didn’t have a clue how to handle Charlotte. First he had referred to her as the kid, trying for an impersonal distance. Then he reasoned she was like a puppy, to account for her need to be comforted when she cried. Talking to her as though she were a fellow adult did, however, take the cake. No way was a week-old baby going to understand a word of what he said.

  Jack looked at her quizzically. “What’s so funny?”

  Nina quickly shook her head as she swallowed her laughter. “Hysterical relief,” she explained, not wanting to put him off any effort to come to terms with the problem of having a child he didn’t want. “I was a bit wound up, having left you with one of the worst aspects of taking care of a baby.”

  He shrugged. “No worse than stripping paint.”

  As he folded the newspaper to lay it aside, Nina bit her lips to stop the giggles erupting again. Jack’s logic was certainly novel, but if it worked for him, she was not about to criticise or make fun of it. Any practical parallel he could find to keep his toleration level up was fine by her.

  Having got rid of the newspaper, he placed a supporting hand around Charlotte’s shoulders and head, his other hand cupping her bottom, and he leaned forward, plucking her from his chest. “Down you go, Charlie girl,” he crooned, swooping her smoothly into the capsule. “Mummy’s turn now,” he added as he tucked the bunny rug around her.

  “Turn?” Nina queried, bemused by Jack’s indulgent manner with their daughter. He was even calling her by name now. At least, his version of her name.

  He stood, grinning, a wicked gleam in his green eyes. “For a cuddle,” he enlightened her, stepping forward purposefully.

  Was he expecting, demanding a reward? Had he calculated what he had to do in order to get what he wanted? Turn and turnabout?

  Tension zipped along Nina’s nerves. Control, her mind screamed. She whipped up a hand to stop him.
“I’m not a baby, Jack. I’m a woman.”

  “I know,” he said warmly, taking her hand and putting it on his shoulder as he slid an arm around her waist. “I’ve got the music on. Let’s dance.”

  Her body hit his and didn’t want to leave it. Besides, dancing was relatively harmless, she argued, nothing more than a social convention, done in public all the time. Except she knew perfectly well Jack was a great dancer, a sexy dancer, and she was playing with fire. Heat was racing through her veins even before he gathered her closer.

  “I need to hold you,” he murmured, his mouth hovering near her ear, his breath tingling over her skin. The ache of yearning in his voice sent an echo reverberating through her body, stirring the need to be held, to feel his weight, his strength, his warmth, his sheer animal maleness.

  “It’s been so long,” he groaned, his hands sliding over her back, relearning its curve, revelling in the sensual rub of silk on flesh, his and hers.

  Yes, so long. The words moaned through her mind, wanting freedom of expression. It would be treacherously easy to close her eyes to the future and seize the moment, taking what she could while she could. Would that be so wrong when it felt this right to be held by Jack? But if it was so right, it would still be right tomorrow, she cautioned herself. And all the tomorrows that made up the future.

  They swayed to the music. Tempted beyond caution, Nina slid both arms around Jack’s neck, pressing her breasts against the satisfying solidity of his chest, loving the firm delineation of his muscles as he sucked in a quick breath, then slowly released it.

  It was dangerously wanton of her. She knew it but didn’t care. She had been too long apart from him, too long feeling only half alive. Her body was singing at every brush with his, exulting in the moving pressure of his thighs, arching sensuously to the moulding of his hands. She felt the growing hardness of his arousal, and excitement speared through her, leaving a shivery weakness that forcefully reminded her she wasn’t ready for this.

  A paralysing thought crashed into her mind and stopped her feet dead. “Jack…”

  “Natural response,” he soothed.

  “Jack, have you been with other women?”

  He met her gaze with sizzling sincerity. “Not since you, Nina. I don’t want any other woman.”

  “Oh!” She flushed at his directness, at the desire blazing from him, searing her conscience with doubts about her decision to go her own way and leave him to his.

  “You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. The only person I’ve ever loved, Nina,” he said huskily.

  Her heart turned over. Jack was like her, alone in the world, no family to speak of, and though friends were good, it wasn’t the same as loving and knowing yourself loved. Without thought, without reason, Nina’s whole being surged to meet him as he bent his head to kiss her.

  Their mouths melded, emotional intensity swiftly moving to a passionate expression of their craving to be one again. It was only when Jack scooped her into a more intimate fit with his erection, wildly accelerating the need to merge together, that Nina’s swimming senses whirled back to some common sense.

  “Jack!” she gasped, tearing her mouth from his, her hands scrabbling to hold his head back. She choked out the words in incoherent little bursts. “I can’t. The birth. I’m sorry. I’m not—I didn’t mean…”

  “Not fit yet,” Jack interpreted, sighing raggedly as he eased away and met her frantic eyes with rueful understanding. He stroked her cheek, transmitting tender caring as he smiled, warm pleasure welling over desire. “It’s enough to know you feel the same, Nina.”

  “I have an appointment for a medical checkup next week,” she babbled, not realising she was implying a promise, rushing to excuse the frustration of not following through on the promise she had recklessly implied in flying with her instincts here and now.

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care how long we have to wait. What’s another week or a month?” His smile spread into a happy grin. “I’m already on top of the world knowing you want me as much as I want you.”

  Her heart stopped its mad beating, hanging suspended for a mind-blowing second. She’d done it! Committed herself without thinking! Only to making love with him, she feverishly excused. Her pulse picked up again, drumming through her temples, definitely a rush of blood to the head. And other parts of her anatomy.

  Jack planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I promise I’ll keep it cool until the doctor says it’s okay. I wouldn’t hurt you for anything, Nina.”

  Cool, yes. Better to stay cool for as long as she could. Though it would be wrong to lead Jack on and not deliver. If she just took one step at a time…The big risk was in taking too much for granted.

  Jack tilted her face up to his, his eyes probing hers with compassionate concern. “Was the birth very rough on you, Nina?” he asked softly.

  She grimaced. “There was a clock on the wall. I kept telling myself if I survived one more minute I might make it through actually having the baby.”

  “That bad,” he muttered, distressed by the description. “I wish I’d been with you.”

  “It’s behind me, Jack. I’ve got Charlotte now, and she’s worth far more than one day’s pain to me.” Needing him to realise and appreciate the importance she placed on their daughter, she added, “She was going to be my world. She’ll always be an essential part of it. If you hurt her, you hurt me.”

  He looked taken aback. “I’d never hurt a kid, Nina. What on earth gave you that idea? I know I said kids were…” He hesitated over what words to choose.

  “An abomination,” she finished dryly.

  “Well, they can be,” Jack quickly qualified, “but the way I see it, that’s more often the fault of the parents. Kids need a bit of firm direction now and then or they just run wild. Which isn’t good for anybody.”

  Nina couldn’t argue with that reasoning. She agreed with it. Though the word firm needed discussion.

  “Anyway,” Jack went on, “Charlie girl and I are getting along fine. Don’t be worrying about things I said, Nina. I’ll be a better dad than most.”

  He spoke so earnestly, Nina let the subject slide. Picking at old wounds didn’t do any good. Besides, he’d certainly displayed a promising attitude. She smiled. “Thank you for looking after her so well tonight, Jack.”

  He grinned, relieved that she had accepted his efforts to deliver peace of mind on favourable paternal attributes. “I’ve been more than rewarded,” he said magnanimously.

  The idea of reward again. It struck a false note with Nina. She didn’t like it. Not one bit. Sally might advocate a system of rewards as eminently workable, but Nina didn’t want her relationship with Jack to work that way. She wanted him to care for Charlotte because she was a much-loved daughter, not because he might be rewarded with a session of lovemaking with the woman who happened to be Charlotte’s mother.

  It preyed on Nina’s mind long after Jack left that night. Love wasn’t based on manipulation. Love, to her mind, was a natural reaching out to each other, an open and honest expression of genuine feeling. To reduce it to a bargaining counter or a stick-and-carrot manoeuvre was anathema to her.

  She did not doubt Jack loved her. Everything he did and said reflected it. But if he couldn’t come to love Charlotte…A deep sadness dragged at her heart. Their baby, their child.

  She had to tell him, lay it on the line what it meant to her and why. If he understood where she was coming from, would it help? Would it make the difference?

  A sense of futility washed through her. Impossible to force what wasn’t felt. Not all the words in the world could achieve that. The only realistic course was to wait and see.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “TONIGHT is the night, Spike,” Jack informed his dog, who stood in the bathroom doorway, watching him shave.

  Spike settled down on his haunches, rested his big shaggy head on his front paws and closed his eyes. He’d heard the same words all day. Clearly they excited his master, but since not
hing new had happened, there seemed no point in responding until a change did occur. This shaving business every afternoon was no longer new.

  “Sleep if you like, but I won’t be sleeping. No, sir. Not if the doctor gives the okay. Good thing it’s Friday. Maybe Nina will let me stay over the weekend.”

  Spike opened an eye. The tone of voice was different.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll come back and feed you. Bring Nina and the kid with me. She’s not a bad little kid, Spike. Good as gold. You’ll like her.”

  A querying whine seemed appropriate.

  Jack grinned at him. “You can learn to play dad, too. Look after her as you would a puppy. Keep her in check, give her a lick, warn off the bad guys.”

  The last words were growled, so Spike growled in agreement.

  Jack laughed, unable to contain his high spirits. Cautioning himself with the possibility that Nina might need more recovery time made no difference to the tingle of anticipation. If that were the case, well, he’d take it on the chin and rise to the occasion. Or not rise, he corrected himself, instructing his anatomy to behave in an appropriate manner. Love came first, desire second.

  But he sure hoped everything was fine. Celibacy did not suit him. His sex drive had been in overdrive ever since he had sighted Nina again. Being with her so much over the past couple of weeks had exercised his powers of restraint to the limit. Nevertheless, he’d hold off like a gentleman as long as he had to. Nina needed cossetting. She’d been through a bad time.

  Jack put down the razor, splashed water over his face, towelled off, then closely examined the result of his shave in the bathroom mirror, running his hand over the shiny, smooth skin. Not a trace of stubble anywhere. Satisfied, he opened the new bottle of aftershave lotion and dabbed it on. Obsession by Calvin Klein. Cost him over seventy dollars.

  Spike stirred, leaped to his feet. He sniffed the air and barked.

  Jack grinned at him. “You like it, Spike?”

  A yelp of agreement.