The Pregnancy Promise

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The Pregnancy Promise Page 11

by Barbara McMahon


  She swung around and faced him. “Settled what?”

  “Us.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I think we should move in together.”

  “What? Whatever for?”

  “It’s not always going to be convenient to run out to the sea cottage every time we want to sleep together.”

  “Shhh!” She glanced quickly around the garage, then stepped closer. “Keep your voice down—do you want the entire world to know what we’re doing?”

  For a moment Tray almost said yes.

  “I’m trying to look at this from a practical point of view,” he said evenly.

  “Living together wasn’t part of the bargain. I went along with your condition of marriage, but living together isn’t in the cards. Now I do have to get to work before we cause any more gossip than what Sally Ann is probably spreading at this very moment.”

  “Sally Ann?”

  “The secretary who just passed. Who knows what she heard?”

  “Nothing the entire world couldn’t hear.” Tray turned and walked beside her to the elevator. The weekend wasn’t ending as he thought it would. He couldn’t force her to move in with him. And he couldn’t go to her place unless she invited him. What a mess. He needed time to think of a new strategy.

  Lianne closed the door to her office with relief. She couldn’t do this. She had given it her best shot this weekend, but sleeping with the boss was more than she could deal with—especially when they weren’t even having an affair but were solely bent on having a baby. Too totally weird.

  How could he have suggested they move in together? She had barely made it through the weekend; she could never live day after day with Tray. She’d do something totally foolish like fall for him and come to expect more than he could deliver. She had to keep the relationship focused on the end goal—a baby. Nothing more.

  She went to her desk and opened her calendar. It was not the most fertile time. She was due to start her period in a few days. So most likely, no baby. The thought of making love with Tray again and again until she did conceive had her giddy. She thought she could be sophisticated about it, but she couldn’t. Picking up the phone, she quickly dialed her twin’s number.

  “Annalise here.”

  “Hey, are we still on tonight?” Lianne asked.

  “Sure. I tried calling you this weekend. Where were you? Even your cell was off.”

  “I went to the beach,” she said.

  “With Tray?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  She couldn’t tell her sister everything. Annalise would never have gone for a bargain like theirs. But it felt odd holding anything back from her twin.

  “And it was wonderful,” she said truthfully. “Rain and all.”

  “Especially the rain, I bet. Nothing like forced confinement to find some other way to spend the day—or night,” Annalise teased. “I expect a full report at dinner. Let’s meet at the rib’s place.”

  “Sounds good. Can you give me a lift home? I don’t have my car—we came straight in from the cottage.”

  “Better and better. I bet you didn’t want to leave. Sure. Dominic’s out of town again, so I’m footloose and fancy free. See you at six.”

  So which was worse, Lianne wondered, the inquisition by her sister or seeing Tray again? She hoped work could keep her mind from dwelling on either.

  Lianne made it through the week without a confrontation with either her sister or husband-in-name-only. Tray had dropped off her small suitcase at her apartment on Monday while she’d been at dinner with Annalise.

  By carefully arriving at work each morning after she knew Tray was there, Lianne avoided seeing him unless he called a meeting. She always left promptly at five to head off any chance of an after-work encounter.

  Friday morning she wasn’t feeling well. She knew her period was about to start and knowing what to expect, took a handful of pills. Sometimes she could head off the pain if she acted early enough. There was too much to do to take another day off. If this could only have waited another twenty-four hours, she could have stayed in bed all day.

  By midafternoon, Lianne had to leave for home. She could barely stand upright the pain was so intense. Driving wasn’t easy, but knowing the sooner she got home, the sooner she could get some relief made it possible. Almost doubled up by the time she reached her apartment, she headed right for the bathroom and more of the pills she had taken that morning.

  Changing into an old flannel nightie that was loose and soft, she crawled into bed and curled into a ball. No baby on the way. For a moment tears threatened. She fought against them. She knew it would be a long shot to get pregnant at all, much less the first time. Still, she had hoped.

  Once the analgesic took effect, she dozed off. The phone woke her.

  “Hello?” If it were Annalise, she’d ask her to come over; she would like something to eat but couldn’t face making anything herself.

  “Are you coming with me to Richmond?” Tray asked.

  She’d forgotten he’d asked her last Monday and she’d never answered. They’d gotten sidetracked. At least she hadn’t heard any gossip this week. Maybe Sally Ann had more discretion that Lianne thought.

  “Not this weekend,” she said, barely suppressing a moan.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Right now I’m curled up in a ball trying to fight the pain,” she said.

  “Cramps?”

  “That’s an understatement. I can hardly stand, much less take some car trip to Richmond. You don’t need me. It’s your family estate.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  “No, I—” She was speaking to an empty line. He had hung up.

  Great, just what she didn’t need. If she ignored the door when he rang the bell, maybe he’d go away.

  Not if she knew Tray. He was more likely to get the landlord and have him open the door, claiming she was too ill to reach the door. Tray never made things easy.

  Yet she was touched he was leaving work on her account. Once he checked in, he’d be off to Richmond. But for a few precious moments, she felt cherished. Odd from such a solitary, independent man.

  She got up and splashed water on her face. Donning a robe, she went into the living room and curled up on the sofa to await Tray. In less than ten minutes he knocked on the door.

  Opening it she leaned against it and looked at him. “I can manage,” she said.

  “I’m sure you can,” he said, walking past her and reaching back to shut the door. “But you don’t have to manage alone. What do you need?”

  “Relief,” she said, holding her abdomen. It felt as if a dozen knives were cutting into her.

  “You’re as pale as snow,” he said, studying her for a moment.

  “I have some pain medication. Which doesn’t completely block it.” Lianne walked to the sofa and sank down on it, bringing her knees up and encircling her legs with her arms. This was the best position for the maximum relief. The only thing to do was ride it out.

  He looked momentarily helpless. It was odd seeing Tray with that expression. She always thought he could handle anything—terrorists, members of Congress, even foreign dignitaries who demanded so much attention. But here was something no one could do anything about until she saw the surgeon.

  “Thanks for stopping by, but there’s nothing you can do. I’ll be back to work on Monday, most likely. You go on to Richmond.”

  Tray shook his head. “I’m staying. Have you eaten?”

  When she shook her head, he glanced toward her kitchen. “Want an omelet?”

  “That sounds nice,” she said. It would give him something to do and she was hungry. It would be nice to have something more substantial than a cup of soup, which was all she felt like preparing.

  She leaned back and closed her eyes as she listened to him work in her kitchen. She didn’t have any pets—due to erratic work hours. She had moved out on her own once she could afford it with the the
n new position at Protection, Inc. She wondered how she would adjust to being married—if it had been a real marriage. The give and take of sharing a space with someone. Learning his habits as he learned hers. Growing together until the sounds the other made would be normal, and being alone would not be.

  Tray had suggested they move in together. She’d have to explain to everyone if she did that—about the wedding if not the reason for it. Too much trouble to change things back if she couldn’t have a baby. Better to leave things as they were. But she did appreciate the help, much as she valued her independence.

  He wasn’t going to use this as more leverage to move in together, was he?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TRAY took off his suit coat and laid it across one of the stools in the kitchen. Hunting through the cupboards and refrigerator, he found the ingredients and pan he needed. How unobservant had he been not to notice a pattern of her missing work on a monthly basis? Did she normally suffer through the pain to remain sharp, or had most instances occurred on the weekend when she could take pain meds that made her groggy? If he hadn’t wanted her to go to Richmond, would he even have known she left early and was in such discomfort? Probably not.

  So much for being in tune with his employees.

  When the meal was ready, he found a tray and carried the plates into the living room.

  “Are you asleep?” he asked.

  She shook her head and opened her eyes. “I wish I could. Sooner or later I’ll be too tired to stay awake. This looks good. Thank you.”

  He sat opposite her in one of the surprisingly comfortable chairs. Glancing around the room, he noted the way she decorated. The warmth was not unexpected coming from Lianne. Quite a change from Suzanne’s black and white sleek ultramodern apartment.

  He frowned. He didn’t want to be reminded of that woman.

  “Mine is good, isn’t yours?” Lianne asked.

  He looked at her. “What?”

  “You made a face. Isn’t your omelet good?”

  “It’s fine.” He hadn’t even noticed the taste as he ate—too preoccupied with the past. There was nothing he could do now except hope for a better future. One that included a child or children.

  “Would your getting pregnant change things for you, so you could get pregnant again?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Not as I understand things. I never really thought about it, but in the back of my mind, I guess I always expected to have a bunch of kids—maybe not as many as Mom and Dad did, but more than one. Now I’d be very grateful for one.”

  They ate in silence. When finished, Tray quickly cleaned up over Lianne’s protests. Rejoining her in the living room a short time later, he sat beside her on the sofa.

  “You don’t have to stay,” she said.

  “I think you need to give more thought to my idea of moving in together. If you don’t get pregnant in the next few weeks, you’ll need help the next time this happens.”

  She knew it! “Tray, I’ve managed for years with this. I can handle it.”

  “Except you don’t need to handle it alone anymore. You have a husband now.”

  She smiled. “You take your husbandly duties very seriously. We’re not really married.”

  “Yes, we are.”

  “Not in the traditional sense, I mean. You are not responsible for me.”

  “I want to take care of my baby’s mother.”

  She studied him a moment. “Would you have married Suzanne if she hadn’t aborted the baby? Did she need taking care of?”

  “She wanted marriage without any babies. I wasn’t ready to commit to her. Perhaps subconsciously I knew what kind of woman she is. But, yes, if she’d continued the pregnancy, I probably would have married her.” He didn’t want to think of what kind of marriage they would have had. Parties every weekend, shopping expenditures spending thousands of dollars, vacations in exotic locales. There would have been no longtime family sea cottage. And he suspected Suzanne didn’t deal with family problems well. She’d been convenient for the social scene. But he had never thought about marriage around her.

  He looked at Lianne. He’d never thought about marriage with her, either. But now he would admit to being oddly content. Logically it made sense to move in together. Why didn’t she see that?

  “If you’d leave, I could go to bed,” she said.

  “Go to bed if you like. I hardly need entertainment.”

  She eyed him. “You brought your laptop?”

  “It’s in the car.”

  He could see her debating the merits of leaving him and going back to bed.

  “Go on, Lianne. I’ll stay for a little while in case you need anything.”

  She nodded and rose, heading for the back of the apartment, bent over and walking slow. He hadn’t seen her bedroom and wondered if it was frilly and feminine or more tailored. Should he have carried her back to bed? He didn’t like not being able to fix things.

  He went to his car and got his laptop, letting himself back in the door he’d left unlocked. The apartment was silent. He walked down the hall and peeped in the room. She was sleeping. With a glance around to satisfy himself on her room, he returned to the kitchen to make some coffee. Opening his laptop a few moments later, he began searching the Internet for information on Lianne’s condition.

  The next morning Tray woke at first light. He’d bunked down on the sofa again. He walked down the short hall and peeked into the bedroom. Last night he’d checked on Lianne a second time before going to sleep. She’d been sound asleep and he hoped she’d been able to sleep through the night undisturbed. She was still curled up under the covers, only the top of her head visible. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

  Taking a quick shower, he wished he’d thrown a change of clothes in the car. He could go a day without shaving, but he hated putting on the same shirt he’d worn the day before.

  He was leaving the bathroom when he heard the front door open. Stepping into the living room almost at the same time as Lianne’s twin did, Tray knew Annalise hadn’t suspected he was in residence.

  “Oh, you startled me,” Annalise said when she spied him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Lianne’s not feeling well,” he said easily.

  “I know. She called me yesterday and left a message on my machine. I didn’t get it until late. I thought I’d come by to fix her breakfast.”

  Start as you mean to go on had been the adage his uncle Hal had been fond of. Good advice.

  “We can make it together. I was just heading to the kitchen,” he said. Tray saw no reason to leave just because Annalise had arrived.

  “How’s Lianne?” she asked.

  “Slept through the night, I think.”

  Annalise looked so much like Lianne Tray was continually fascinated. They even wore their hair in the same style. Didn’t most twins try to look different from each other? Or were they so used to the similarity they didn’t notice it?

  “Sleep’s the best thing. I’ll help with breakfast, and you and I can get to know each other better,” she said, taking off her jacket.

  Tray felt a spark of amusement at her challenge. He had no siblings but recognized the loyalty of a family bond when he saw it.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  By the time pancakes and sausages had been prepared, Tray knew Annalise a bit better. She seemed easier to get along with than Lianne, but maybe she was on her best behavior. Also, he wasn’t married to her and trying to get her to give in to his idea of sharing an apartment.

  When the food was ready, Annalise went to check on her sister. She returned a moment later. “She’s awake and hungry, which is good. Sometimes she doesn’t eat for two or three days.”

  He took a plate and piled pancakes and sausage on it.

  “She’s hungry, but not that much,” Annalise said with a smile, taking off a couple of pancakes and one link of sausage.

  “You look like Lianne when you do that,” he commented.

  “I prefer t
o think she looks like me,” she replied, lifting the tray and heading for her sister’s room.

  When she returned a short time later, Tray had finished his coffee. “I’m heading home to change and get a few things. Will you stay with her until I get back?”

  “You don’t need to come back, I’ll stay the weekend. Dominic is away.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I pick up a few things,” he said, deliberately leaving his laptop on the table and heading out a few moments later.

  Annalise prepared a cup of coffee and wandered back to her sister’s room. Lianne had eaten half the food and was curled up staring out the window.

  “That man is determined to act the role of husband,” Annalise said, sitting carefully on the foot of the bed.

  “Tray? Is he still here?”

  “No, he left. But he’s coming back. And I’m not sure I’d try to keep him out when he does.”

  Lianne made a face. “He gets this strong sense of responsibility. I told him I could manage on my own. I thought he was going to Richmond this weekend to wind up his uncle’s affairs.” Lianne told Annalise about Tray’s uncle and a brief history of his childhood.

  “Sounds like you’re his only family now,” Annalise mused.

  “Just until I have a baby. If I can’t conceive, then he’ll look elsewhere.”

  Annalise took a sip of her coffee. “So conceive.”

  Lianne laughed softly. “As if it were that easy.” Her expression changed. “What if I can’t?”

  “Then you’ll deal with it. But don’t give up before trying a bit. You’ve only been on this quest a month or so.”

  “I’m in so much pain I don’t know how much more I can take before I have to give in for that operation,” Lianne said. “Tell me about your latest listing. Give me something else to think about.”

  “It’s a fabulous house, simply beautiful from the outside, and fantastic on the inside,” Annalise began. She talked about other homes she’d been showing to clients. When she saw Lianne had fallen back asleep, she slipped from the bedroom.

  Tray packed a small bag with essentials and included a couple of pairs of casual pants, several shirts. He swung by a florist’s and picked out a bouquet of mums in fall colors. They should brighten Lianne up a bit. He’d get her chocolate as well, but had a feeling she was too ill to enjoy them. A DVD? He next drove to a video rental place and picked up several. Here was uncharted territory. He did not know what she liked, but with an assortment, she was bound to like one of them.

 

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