by Sara Wood
She stared. The penny slowly dropped. He could only mean one thing. That he wanted to heal the rift between them, to start afresh and for their family to be whole.
Much as she wanted that, she wasn’t sure it would work. He’d cheated on her. Maybe he would again. The risk was enormous.
But perhaps he was truly sorry. She bit her lip, trying not to be swayed by her reckless heart, which was urging her to agree and leap into his arms with forgiving kisses on her lips.
‘I’m not sure,’ she said slowly.
‘I want this more than anything,’ he husked.
She felt herself sway under the influence of his molten tar gaze and she had difficulty in keeping her mind on track.
If she rejected his apology now, they’d remain enemies for ever because he’d never forgive her for being such a cow. Yes, or no. His future, hers, the baby’s, lay entirely in her hands.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HELEN’S heart had no problem with forgiveness, her head said ‘maybe’. It went without saying that her body had long ago surrendered. In confusion, she concentrated on what would be best for the baby and came up with the answer: stability and constant love.
That posed a problem. What if Dan strayed and deserted her and her child? If he was doing this for all the wrong reasons—to keep control of the baby—then staying together would never work and he’d leave eventually. But how would she ever be sure what had prompted his request?
‘Don’t deny me this out of spite.’
Startled by Dan’s low growl, she glanced up at him. When her eyes locked with his, she was shaken by the waves of tight passion that crackled and leapt across the space between them.
He wanted this desperately. If only she knew why.
‘Supposing you hang around and then…then you change your mind?’ she ventured.
‘How can you suggest that? I wouldn’t. I’d be totally committed.’ He coughed, clearing a surprisingly gravelly throat. And studied the duck pond with unusual interest. But she saw that his jaw was set in determination, the sculpting of his mouth firm and decisive. ‘I would be constant. Reliable.’ The tip of his tongue moistened his lips. ‘You must know how I feel,’ he added softly.
A smile found its way to her lips. Hazily she realised he was in as much turmoil as she. Dan was so worried that she’d turn him down, that he dared not even look at her.
Affectionately she hugged his reticence to herself. And hid her own ecstasy for the time being.
‘Yes. I think I do,’ she murmured demurely, finding it hard to remain calm when her entire body fizzed and bubbled with delight. He would apologise for his behaviour, and she would forgive him. She tried not to grin happily. ‘I think you’re right. You should be part of our child’s life. A big part.’
‘Fine.’
On pins, she waited for him to take her in his arms and beg her forgiveness. And then they’d be able to make up.
Abruptly he stood up and began to prowl up and down in front of her like a feral animal, dark, lithe and loose-limbed, scattering ducks and impecunious sparrow hangers-on in the process. He was finding this difficult, she thought in fond amusement.
But of course she wouldn’t hesitate to have him back if he was truly contrite. It would take a while for trust to re-establish itself, but it would be worth making the effort. They had a child to consider.
Happily she stroked her stomach, watching Dan’s brooding face and waiting for his closed expression and the tension of his body to ease up as he broached the idea of their reconciliation.
She loved him so much. More than she’d ever known before all this had blown up. Life without him was unthinkable. She had come through the bitterness and hatred and could now let go of her negative feelings. There was only one man for her. Dan. The father of her child. Love poured into her, emptying itself into her aching heart and easing all her pain. Deliriously happy, she smiled.
In her mind she saw them cooing idiotically over their newborn baby. Dan, pushing the pram with a huge beam of pride splitting his face. Dan snuggled up to her while she fed their baby…
‘I propose this,’ he said, still heart-wrenchingly stilted. ‘I want us to stay married.’
Her eyes closed in brief thanks. Everything would be all right! And how funny he was, telling her in a roundabout way that he really did love her! Helen did her best to be encouraging and yet appear innocent of his intentions. He needed to feel that he was making all the running. This was part of his act of contrition.
‘I think that’s a good idea, too,’ she said levelly.
He grunted and elaborated on his plan. ‘Good. You stop work as soon as you can—’
‘But I don’t—!’
‘Do you want to commute, to be assailed by petrol fumes and the stress of a twelve-hour day? To risk losing the baby?’ he demanded, looking at her askance.
Put like that… ‘No. Of course I don’t, but other women work and—’
‘You are not other women. Your job is draining. You know that.’
‘Yes,’ she said doubtfully, the idea appealing to her more and more. She could opt out of the rat race for a while, spend time relaxing and walking, making a home—a real home—at Deep Dene. ‘But financially—’
‘No problem.’ He was the old Dan now, full of confidence and strength of will. ‘Business is booming and I can provide you with a good income so you’re effectively independent.’
‘It seems a bit one-sided,’ she demurred. But she felt cherished. Protected. It was lovely.
‘No. You will be bringing up our child,’ he replied. ‘That’s more important than anything. My intention is to live in London till the baby’s born so I can concentrate on work, but naturally I will check every day that you’re OK. That’ll keep us apart for a while, which—I’m sure you’ll agree—will suit us both very well.’
This wasn’t going right. Helen’s brow furrowed. He seemed to be heading for a different solution from the one she’d imagined.
‘Go on,’ she said warily, her spine suddenly chilled.
‘When the baby’s born, naturally I will return to live in Deep Dene.’ Dan paused in his relentless pacing and stared at the ground as if it had done him an injury. ‘By that time, the builders will have gone—and I’ll have turned the study, the library and the downstairs bathroom into a small flat for myself. I could also turn the dairy into a kitchen and take the whole west side for my garden. We’d hardly see one another from one day to the next.’
She was speechless. Her mouth gaped.
Dan’s guarded glance made her cringe. It was bleak and impersonal. Her head whirled. She’d made a terrible mistake.
‘We both own the house,’ he stated, for all the world like an accountant discussing a balance sheet. ‘I have as much right to live in it as you.’
‘A…flat?’ she repeated stupidly.
‘Place is big enough,’ he replied crisply, still in accountant mode.
Absently he picked a wild daisy and began systematically to remove its petals. She watched, appalled, checking off each petal with ‘he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me…’ And of course it ended with ‘he loves me not’. What else?
‘It is,’ she breathed, playing for time.
‘Makes sense, doesn’t it?’
With an impatient movement he threw the bare stem away and the ducks came running to see if it was good to eat. They were as disappointed as she was, she thought glumly. He loved her not.
What an idiot she was. Self-torture in one easy lesson by Helen Shaw. Expert in her field.
‘You—you said you’d be constant, reliable…’
‘That goes without saying. I won’t ever desert the baby. I will always be part of our child’s life.’
‘Oh!’ Now she understood. He’d not been thinking of her at all. She felt herself shrink. ‘How would this arrangement work in practice?’ she managed to croak.
‘Simple. When the baby’s born I will go out to meet clients and assess their needs as usua
l, but increase the amount of work I do from home. We can organise a routine so that certain days or times are mine and you can take a break. Go off and have your hair done. Go shopping, take a part-time job, whatever. I can then be properly involved in my child’s life. We can do it, Helen. For our child’s sake, we must be civilised and adult about this. Speak politely to one another. Be friends, as far as we can. There must be no bad atmosphere, no recriminations, no bitterness. Our child must feel safe and secure and loved by both of us.’
He couldn’t be serious. Struggling with Dan’s suggestion, she stared at him in appalled dismay as her hopes finally crashed about her ears. Again. She groaned. Why did she keep putting herself through this? Though she knew the answer. Because she loved him.
‘You…want us to live in the same house—but separately—and to act as if we’re two child-minders who take turns to look after our baby?’
His head jerked around and she cringed at the pain searing his dark eyes. ‘Not child-minders. Parents! I want to know my child!’ he rasped. ‘I want my child to know me and not to see me as a Saturday father! I want real knowing. To be there for him or her when there are problems. To be confided in. To be loved, truly loved.’
Her heart lurched. Despite her own misery, she recognised that this was his baby, too, and men—even loving husbands—had the short straw where child-care was concerned. They could never know what it was like to nurture a baby inside you, or the miracle of giving birth—however uncomfortable or painful either of those situations might be.
Already she felt at one with her baby. She could talk to it, include it in her daily life. Dan was just an onlooker.
She pressed a hand to her swollen breast and thought of the time when her son or daughter would be in her arms. Still dreaming, she lifted lazy lashes to meet Dan’s gaze. And quivered at what she saw.
Naked hunger. Drowsy sensuality.
‘Dan?’ she queried uncertainly.
‘Don’t look at me like that!’ he muttered.
He wants me, she thought in amazement. No. More than that. He needs me. Or…was she mistaken again?
Small pinpricks of excitement sent her skin tingling. Her eyes had ostensibly lowered, but she’d checked his body and there was no mistaking the newly taut stretch of his denim jeans.
Her optimism recovered itself. Maybe everything was not lost. Her original idea that they could come back together again wasn’t so stupid after all. They had too much of a history between them, too many memories of happier times.
And she had something infinitely more precious than Celine possessed. She was carrying Dan’s child.
A brief doubt slipped into her mind and she zapped it. He did want her. It was a start—something to build on. Petrified she might be, but she had to stick her neck out. An inch at a time. Caution, she warned herself. No playing easy to get or he’d run a mile.
They’d take things slowly and in time, because he’d said it was important, she would overcome her terrible jealousy and the thought of Celine in his arms would become a nasty memory, nothing more.
They would become friends, then lovers again—especially as they’d be living in the same house, making arrangements together, liaising, oh, yes, she could see it all!
A request to change a plug, mend the washing machine…a smile, a touch, growing desire… Plenty of floaty, cleavage-revealing clothes, the odd invitation to a shared meal, a tap on his door for borrowed sugar…
Her heart raced. They’d get back together, she was sure. And when he felt secure, she’d persuade him that he could safely admit to adultery and be forgiven.
Then there was the baby. With the joy of their newborn child softening his heart, he’d forget Celine’s ample charms and realise what he could lose: the family he’d always longed for.
Her decision showed the triumph of hope over experience, she thought wryly. And amended that. Love conquered all. It would, she vowed. She would make certain of that! The Celines of this world would not win. Why should they?
Celine had broken them up—but only because something had been missing in their marriage. Helen vowed that she would put the shattered scraps of their love back together again and create the life she and Dan had always yearned for.
Intensely happy, she let her mouth curve into a delicious smile and she ventured a half-flirty, half-enquiring look at him.
Yes! That was enough to make him go weak at the knees. He was in pieces! Baffled, confused, longing for the love they’d once shared…yes. He was needy. Yes, she could do it. Must, for their baby’s sake, for her own happiness.
Dan wanted his baby’s love. He also wanted adult love. And she was going to be the one who provided that.
Recklessly risking all, she took a deep breath and sealed her fate.
‘I think it’s a very sensible idea,’ she commented, anxious to sound reasonable and neutrally polite. ‘You arrange it, Dan. I’ll hand in my notice. Once I’ve found a replacement, I’ll leave.’ She thought a gesture was in order and stood up. ‘I want us to remain friends for our child’s sake. We can be adult about this. I promise I’ll do my best to make this…relationship work.’
And as she kissed first one hot cheek and then the other she felt the tremor that ran through him and it was all she could do not to surrender herself then and there.
I’d walk through fire for him, she thought fiercely as they walked back to the car without speaking further. If I have to live without him for the next six months, then I will—if it means that we’ll be together for the rest of our lives.
Her strides became liquid and flowing, her body swinging with the sense of freedom and joy that surged like a bird in her heart.
And beside her, she was gleefully aware that Dan was finding it increasingly hard not to grab her and kiss her breathless. He’s mine! she exulted. In time, life was going to be wonderful. Just perfect. All she needed was patience.
The days slipped by. Dan remained in digs in London and one evening when she came home, it was to find that every item of his clothing had gone.
It gave her a shock. All trace of him had been removed and the bathroom didn’t seem the same, particularly without the ridiculous teddy-bear-shaped flannel she’d given him as a joke.
But this was only temporary, she reminded herself. His gear would be cluttering up the place by late January, when the baby was born. And he’d be back in her bed.
In two weeks she had found her replacement and left work. Time rolled on more slowly because, apart from the builders, she was alone all day at Deep Dene. If she hadn’t been so determined to win Dan back she might have succumbed to doubts, but she didn’t allow herself to weaken.
The grit that had driven her from schoolgirl to high-paid executive stood her in good stead. She had set her heart on a reconciliation and that was what she expected. Nothing less.
Her dreams were filled with him. Although she had grown to love Deep Dene, had mastered the Aga and now ignored the spiders, she missed Dan dreadfully and waited eagerly for his twice-daily phone calls, hearing the tiredness in his voice…and to her joy, the warmth, too.
‘Helen? It’s me.’
‘Hello, me,’ she murmured, with the maximum of seduction lurking in her voice.
There was a very satisfying frog in Dan’s throat when he asked, ‘How are you?’
Wilting, she thought contentedly, curling up on the sofa for a long and satisfying chat. Melting from top to toe. Gorgeous.
‘Fabulous,’ she cooed, sounding like a husky smoker on sixty a day.
‘You don’t miss…’ he paused and she held her breath ‘…work?’
She smiled, sure in her own mind that he’d been intending to ask if she missed him.
‘Oddly enough, no,’ she said warmly. ‘I feel a bit as if I’ve been released from prison. I can concentrate solely on the baby and the house and I’m reading mother and baby books like you’d never believe.’
‘And there’s the in-house entertainment as well. I suppose you’re stil
l dealing with the builders and their love lives,’ he said in amusement, referring to an earlier conversation.
Helen laughed. ‘Oh, yes. We’re having great heart-to-hearts. They lean against the Aga rail and I fuss about, making yet another pot of tea for them. They get so many cuppas and go through so many packets of chocolate biscuits that they feel honour-bound to work hard in between!’ she said with a giggle. ‘And they’re very sweet. I still can’t do a thing in the garden without one of them rushing out to tick me off and grab a fork from my hot little hand!’
‘I’m not surprised. You could charm for England,’ Dan said, laughter in his voice. ‘And I told them to keep an eye on you.’
‘Did you, Dan?’ she asked, touched.
‘Don’t want you overdoing things and harming the baby,’ he replied gruffly. ‘Now. Are you still eating properly? No rushed snacks?’
He cares, she thought blissfully. ‘The fridge and larder are full of organic fruit and veg and I’m packed to the eyeballs with vitamins and nourishment,’ she assured him solemnly. ‘I feel healthier than I can remember.’ Stronger, too, she thought. Clear-eyed, clear-headed and absolutely rock-solid sure about Dan. ‘What about you?’ she asked with affection threading through her words. ‘I suppose you’re existing on plastic sandwiches and sawdust as usual?’
He grunted. ‘Never mind me. What about this scan thing tomorrow?’
‘Ultrasound,’ she informed him happily. ‘It’s so exciting, Dan! I’ll see the baby and get printouts of the picture! I can’t wait.’ She hesitated, her voice wistful as she added, ‘I suppose you can’t get down to be with me for the photo shoot?’
She kept her fingers crossed. It would be a wonderful, bonding moment.
‘No. I’m in York and travelling north. Can’t make it,’ he answered crisply. ‘Keep a copy for me. Must go. Speak to you tomorrow. Bye.’
He rang off before she could properly say goodbye, too. But although she was disappointed, she knew why he was breaking his neck trying to get as much work done as possible. By the time the baby arrived his company would be well and truly on its feet and he’d be able to take time off to be with her.