Executive: Expecting Tiny Twins

by Barbara Hannay

  ‘How could you bear it?’

  She tried to smile but her mouth wobbled. ‘Not very well, especially when Toby admitted later that he’d done it partly because he knew I’d drop him. He hadn’t been brave enough to tell me he wanted to break up.’

  A groan broke from Jack.

  ‘I toughed it out as usual,’ she said, ‘but it didn’t do my career any good. I was about to chair a senate committee for family services. The story put an end to that.’

  This time, her mouth turned square, and she really looked in danger of crying. She took a deep breath. ‘So that’s the story of Toby the toad. I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Jack.’

  ‘Lizzie, I’m so sorry.’

  He was talking to her closed door.

  The next few days were particularly depressing for Lizzie. Not only because the whole business of Toby had been painful to relive, but because the recollections had made her see how very foolish she’d been to become romantically involved with Jack.

  She’d sworn off men. She knew they always let her down, and yet once again she’d fallen.

  But she wasn’t only worried about her feelings; she was concerned about Jack too. When she remembered the genuine affection he’d shown to her, she felt a pang of guilt. She found herself thinking about her mother and father’s affair.

  Goodness, how could she have forgotten that salutary lesson?

  Lisa Firenzi had enjoyed a holiday fling with Heath Green, a handsome, young Australian, and then she’d moved happily on without a backward glance. Not once had she stopped to consider that Heath might have been hurt by her love-him-and-leave-him attitude.

  It wasn’t until Lizzie had come to Australia many years later that she’d realised how deeply the affair had affected her father. He’d loved Lisa and he’d taken ages to get over losing her, and as a result he hadn’t married until his late forties.

  He was now very happily married to the widow of one of his best friends, and he was a very proud stepfather to her two sons…but he’d travelled through some very dark years.

  Remembering again her father’s pain, Lizzie left her desk and went to the doorway to look out at the long stretch of pale golden paddocks.

  The more she thought about it, the more she knew she couldn’t afford any more reckless moments with Jack. A casual affair rarely stayed casual, especially when the couple in question were living together, but there was no way she could expect her relationship with Jack to last beyond her stay at Savannah. It couldn’t possibly work.

  Jack belonged out here in the outback. How could she expect him to adapt to her lifestyle ruled by endless phone calls and meetings, interference from the media, cancelled holidays and interrupted meals? He would be much happier here, and he would make an amazingly fabulous husband for some lucky, young countrywoman.

  He had all the right husbandly credentials. He might not be rolling in money, but he’d be a steady provider, good with children, caring and calm in an emergency. Throw in his good looks and his masterly bedding techniques and the man was a rare prize.

  It couldn’t be long at all before some smart girl snapped him up. And Jack would live happily ever after.

  This, Lizzie told herself, was a very important reason why she must not mess up his life.

  For heaven’s sake, she’d chosen to have a sperm-donor baby so she could avoid awkward emotional entanglements. But from the moment she’d stepped from the plane on Savannah soil she’d been slipping under Jack’s spell. The red outback dust had barely settled before the change had started.

  But had she been terribly selfish?

  CHAPTER TEN

  TWO mornings later, Jack gave up trying to stay away from Lizzie. He stuck his head through her doorway and found her sitting at her desk, concentrating as usual on her laptop screen, so he knocked.

  Her eyes lit up with pleasure when she saw him, and his heart skipped like a day-old colt.

  ‘How busy are you?’ he asked.

  ‘Why? Is something happening?’

  ‘I thought you might like to get out of the office for a bit. We could go for a drive and I could show you the gorge.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘What gorge?’

  ‘Porcupine Gorge. It’s quite spectacular, and part of it runs through Savannah land.’

  Frowning, she looked from him to her computer, then back to him again. The frown faded and colour rose in her cheeks. ‘I must say this work on the Senate Appropriations Bill is very tedious. I’m very tempted to take a break.’

  ‘Great,’ Jack said, not giving her room for second thoughts. ‘How long do you need to be ready?’

  ‘Five minutes?’

  He grinned, and Lizzie smiled back at him, her eyes flashing with the glee of a schoolgirl released from a boring detention.

  They set off, driving across the plains, and Jack was pleased that Lizzie seemed at ease and happy. She sat with the window down, not minding at all that her hair was being blown about.

  He wished he felt as relaxed. He’d hated the silence between them and the subterfuge of this past week. He’d hated having to deny to every man and his dog that he was mad about Lizzie.

  Pretending indifference was torture. Lizzie was in his thoughts first thing in the morning and last thing at night and most of the times in between. This whole charade was driving him insane.

  And the men knew it, damn it.

  Jack had sent Goat packing after one too many risqué suggestions, and he’d given the other men fleas in their ears over their nudge-nudge, wink-wink innuendoes.

  But now he’d had enough of living the lie, which was why he needed to talk to Lizzie today. He’d always been a straight shooter, the kind of man who laid his cards on the table, then dealt with the consequences.

  Today, however, the consequences were potentially huge. His relationship with Lizzie was at stake and he was sick with nerves.

  Beside him, Lizzie had settled her hand on her belly, as if she was feeling the baby kick, and he had to ask, ‘How’s Madeline?’

  She smiled shyly. ‘She’s turning into quite a gymnast. I’m amazed how active she is. I hate to think what she’ll be like in a few months’ time.’

  He pictured Lizzie in the months ahead, wonderfully ripe with pregnancy. She would be lovelier than ever, a beautiful, Madonna-like mother-to-be.

  ‘I suppose all babies are active, whether they’re girls or boys,’ he said.

  ‘I’m sure they must be.’ Lizzie turned to him and frowned. ‘Jack, you’re not suggesting that Madeline might be a boy, are you?’

  He grinned. ‘I wouldn’t dare.’

  The frown lingered as she brooded over this. Eventually, she said, ‘I can find out next week, if I want to.’

  ‘What happens next week?’

  ‘I have to go into Gidgee Springs for a check-up. There’s a doctor who comes from Charters Towers once a month and he brings a portable ultrasound machine.’

  ‘That’s handy. I was wondering what you’d do about doctors.’

  Lizzie patted her tummy. ‘By next week, the baby should be big enough for the scan to pick up its sex, and I’ll have to choose whether I want to know, or not.’

  ‘Haven’t you decided?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m hopeless. One day, I’m absolutely positive I have to know straight away. The next, I don’t want to know till it’s born. I want to keep it as a surprise, the way it’s always been for women all down the ages.’

  ‘And for men,’ Jack couldn’t help adding.

  Lizzie sent him a careful glance, as if she was trying to gauge his mood. ‘I guess I’ll make up my mind on the day of the ultrasound.’

  ‘What day’s that? I’ll make sure I’m free to drive you into town.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I can just borrow a vehicle.’

  ‘No, you won’t, Lizzie. I’m not letting you drive all that way on your own.’

  ‘Well…thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘My appointment’s next Wednesday.’

  As they c
ontinued on across the grassy plains, the sun climbed higher and the autumn mists melted, leaving the air as crisp and sparkling as champagne. Lizzie watched a pretty flock of galahs take off in front of them, filling the sky with a fluttering mass of soft grey wings and rosy pink breasts.

  She thought how familiar the landscape seemed now after only a short time on Savannah. She doubted it could ever feel like home for her, but she was beginning to understand why people like Kate Burton and Jack could live here quite happily for most of their lives.

  Jack parked the ute in the sparse shade of a gum tree, but Lizzie, peering through the windscreen, saw nothing but plains ahead.

  ‘Where’s the gorge?’

  ‘We need to walk the last little bit.’

  With Cobber following, tail wagging madly, they left the vehicle and strolled across red earth dotted with occasional trees and pale, biscuit-coloured clumps of grass. The ground gradually became stonier and eventually turned to rock.

  And then, in front of them, the ground disappeared completely, dropping away into a deep, wide ravine.

  Lizzie took a cautious step forward. ‘Oh, dear.’ A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she swayed precariously.

  ‘Whoa.’ Instantly, Jack pulled her back into the safety of his arms. ‘Careful.’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t have a very good head for heights.’

  ‘Come away from the edge, then.’ He drew her further back, keeping an arm about her.

  ‘It’s OK now. I want to see it, and I’m starting to feel better.’ Especially now that Jack’s arms were around her.

  She allowed herself to sink back against the solid wall of his chest, and she closed her eyes, savouring the wonderful sense of sanctuary he gave her.

  Jack, lovely Jack.

  Carefully, she opened her eyes again, and discovered that she could look down at the sheer fall of the red cliffs and the narrow ribbon of the river way down below without feeling faint. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘It’s spectacular.’

  As his strong arms encircled her he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, and she could smell the special spiciness of his aftershave.

  The warm pressure of his lips was unbearably sweet on her skin, and she very nearly made the mistake of leaning her head to one side, in an open invitation for Jack to kiss her neck and her throat.

  Just in time she remembered that this shouldn’t be happening.

  Oh, good grief. Oh, help.

  Damn. She’d promised herself she would be strong.

  ‘Jack.’

  His arms tightened around her and he murmured something dreamily incomprehensible against her neck.

  ‘Jack, you mustn’t…we shouldn’t…’

  ‘Of course we should.’ His lips continued their mesmerising journey over her skin, and she loved it.

  Oh, heavens, she adored it. But she’d spent a week telling herself that she mustn’t let this happen. She was older than Jack and supposedly wiser. It was up to her to call a halt. She had to; she must.

  ‘Jack, no!’

  It came out too loudly, so loudly that he couldn’t mistake her command. He let his hands drop and he stepped away.

  Crossing her arms over her front, Lizzie felt cold shivers chase each other over her skin. She’d wanted to be in his arms, wanted his kisses…wanted his touch…wanted everything…

  But to let things continue could only be selfish. She took several deep breaths as she struggled to think calmly and clearly.

  Jack was standing with his legs spread, hands hanging loosely at his sides, jaw clenched, green eyes unhappy. Wary.

  Lizzie tried to smile and failed. Their morning was already spoiled and it was her fault. ‘I’m sorry, Jack.’

  After the longest time, he said, quietly, too quietly, ‘I’ve brought picnic things. Why don’t you sit on this log, while I fetch them?’

  She was startled by the change in him. She’d expected sparks and anger laced with charm, not this quiet, contained politeness. Sinking onto the broad, silvery log of a fallen river gum, she watched Jack go without another word back to the ute, with Cobber following.

  He brought a woven cane picnic basket, a tartan rug and a blackened billycan, which he set on one end of the log, before he scouted around for dried leaves, twigs and branches for a fire.

  ‘Can’t have a picnic in the bush without boiling a billy of tea,’ he said, without smiling.

  ‘No, I guess not.’ She couldn’t help admiring the picture Jack made, crouched beside the fire, feeding in sticks, then lighting the match and holding it for a moment between his cupped hands, letting the flame burn steadily before carefully setting it to the dry leaves.

  She was trying very hard to push aside memories of those same strong, capable hands making love to her. She concentrated very hard on the first wisps of smoke, then the red flames appearing, flickering and crackling. She caught the unique eucalyptus scent of scorched gum leaves and very soon the kindling blackened, then turned to ash, while the larger wood burned.

  Jack set the billy in the middle of the fire, and she was relieved to see that he was almost back to normal. He’d always been so very good-humoured; it was disconcerting to see him upset.

  Just the same, they had to talk. They couldn’t go on without settling things. It was important that they both agreed their romance didn’t have a future. Friendship was a much saner option.

  When the tea was ready, Jack spread the rug on shaded grass with a fabulous and less scary view of the gorge. Sprawled comfortably in the dappled shade of an ironbark, they drank from tin mugs and ate biscuits.

  Lizzie broke a biscuit in half. ‘Is Cobber allowed one?’

  Jack shrugged. ‘Sure.’

  She tossed it, and Cobber caught it in mid-air, downing it in one blissful, doggy gulp. She laughed, then quickly sobered. She mustn’t put this off any longer.

  ‘Jack, I’m sorry about…what happened before. I overreacted.’

  He looked away, fixing his attention on a windblown tree that clung precariously to the edge of the opposite cliff. ‘I guess it was bad timing.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s not as simple as timing.’

  His gaze snapped back to her. ‘What do you mean?’

  When he looked at her with those beautiful, challenging green eyes, Lizzie wanted to give in, to admit that resistance was beyond her.

  Heavens, she had to be stronger than this. ‘I’m sure you understand that we can’t continue…the way we were…’

  A muscle in his jaw jerked hard, and he sat up, abruptly. ‘We could if we were prepared to be honest. It’s crazy to try to hide how we feel.’ He shot her a sharp glance. ‘The men have guessed anyhow.’

  ‘But if we’re honest, what exactly can we tell them, Jack? That we’ve had a fling?’

  ‘Had a fling?’ He stared at her for long, painful seconds. ‘You’re talking in the past tense.’

  ‘I know. Because—’ Lizzie swallowed painfully ‘—I don’t see how it can be anything else.’

  More silence, longer and more painful than the last. Jack’s unhappy eyes searched her face. ‘What are you going to tell me next, Lizzie? That we both knew our relationship was going nowhere?’

  Yes, this was exactly what she needed to tell Jack, but they were the very words Mitch had used all those years ago. Had Jack remembered?

  Pinching the bridge of her nose, she tried to hold back the tears that threatened, tried to think sensibly. ‘You know we can’t have a long-term relationship, Jack.’

  ‘I don’t know that at all. Why can’t we? I’d be happy to go back to Canberra with you.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You’d hate it. I know you would. You don’t understand what my life’s like. All the meetings. The pressure. Living out here is a holiday by comparison.’ Despairing, Lizzie shook her head. ‘Jack, we have to get this into perspective.’

  She blinked, took a breath. ‘We’re a man and a woman, who suddenly found each other, a
nd we were totally alone, with complete privacy, and there was…an attraction.’

  ‘There’s still an attraction.’

  ‘Well, yes,’ she admitted. At least she owed him that much honesty. ‘But we both knew from the start that we couldn’t have a future together.’

  ‘We both knew?’ he repeated coldly.

  ‘Yes! For heaven’s sake, Jack. You’re a thirty-year-old man. You knew that I’m ten years older than you. You knew that I’m pregnant with a child that’s not yours. You knew about my career and that I’m only here for a short stay.’

  Jack merely smiled into the distance. ‘Is that list supposed to scare me off?’

  ‘I would have thought so, yes.’

  Slowly he brought his gaze back to her, and it was so hard, so unlike the Jack she knew, she began to tremble.

  ‘What if I told you that not one of those things bothers me, Lizzie? I don’t give a fig about your age. You’re you.’ His eyes shimmered, turning her skin to goose bumps. ‘You’re a beautiful and gutsy woman. I could give you a list of qualities that’s as long as your arm. Your age doesn’t come into it.’

  Oh, Jack. Any minute now she was going to spoil everything by bursting into tears. ‘Jack—’

  He silenced her with a glare. ‘No matter what you say, I’m damn sure that baby of yours could benefit from having a father around. As for going back to the city to continue your work—’ His shoulders lifted in a sudden shrug. ‘I’m not tied to the bush.’

  ‘But you’ve lived here all your life.’

  ‘So what? This place doesn’t define me.’ With a wave of his hand he dismissed the gorge, the grassy plains, the bright blue sky. ‘I’m here by default. My plan, when I was growing up, was to join the RAAF, as a fighter pilot.’

  ‘A fighter pilot?’ She couldn’t hide her astonishment.

  ‘It was all I ever wanted. I had no plans to stay in the outback. I worked my butt off to escape, to get away from here, and I made sure I had all the qualifications, the skills.’

  Shocked, she tried to picture this alternative version of Jack. ‘What happened?’