Expecting His Baby

by Sandra Field

  His arms were still around her; he was wearing trousers and a shirt unbuttoned to the waist. The feel of his skin, warm, hair-roughened, lanced Lise with an agony of desire. Taking refuge in anger, she said, “Emmy still misses her mother.”

  “I heard that.”

  The one question whose answer she couldn’t understand burst from Lise’s lips. “How could you have denied Angeline custody?”

  He said in a voice as cutting as a honed blade, “Let’s get something straight, once and for all. I’m sick to death of being the villain in this divorce. Angeline’s second husband, who can trace his ancestors back to the fourteenth century, didn’t want another man’s daughter in his fancy château. Especially a man who haled from the worst tenements in Manhattan. So Angeline very prettily decided Emmy would be better off in a familiar environment with me.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Angeline had an affair two years before that. In New York. She’s not clever enough to hide her tracks, so I found out. She didn’t really understand why I was so upset. You need to know something about your cousin—what she wants in the moment, she takes. Like a kid on a hot day stealing a carton of ice cream, not realizing it’ll melt and make a big mess before she can eat it all. Angeline’s not a bad person. She just doesn’t understand that there are consequences to her actions. That people can get hurt in the process.”

  “But—”

  “We patched that one up. More or less. But then along came Henri, rich, aristocratic and available. Angeline doesn’t like conflict. So she wrote me a note, left me to do the explaining to Emmy, and took the Concorde to Paris. End of story. I divorced her. It was only later, when I took Emmy to visit Marthe, that I realized that Angeline, no doubt with the best of intentions, was delicately suggesting to all and sundry that I’d been less than ethical in my dealings with her.” He moved his shoulders restlessly. “I could have sued her, I suppose, for defamation of character. I chose not to. For Emmy’s sake.”

  His voice had the undeniable ring of truth. But hadn’t Angeline’s also had that same ring, in those scattered conversations over the years? Although now that Lise looked back, Angeline had never said outright that Judd had taken custody; it had all been insinuated, more in sorrow than in anger. So was Judd right? Was Angeline greedy like a child, with a child’s lack of empathy for those she wounded?

  Had Lise’s worship of her cousin blinded her to Angeline’s very real faults, while emphasizing her virtues? Lise said crisply, “The last time I saw Marthe, she showed me a scrapbook full of photos of you with different women. Dozens of photos.”

  “You never give up, do you?” Judd said unpleasantly. “Everywhere I go, women flock around me—dollar signs in their eyes. I’m not saying I haven’t had affairs since the divorce, that wouldn’t be true. But I’ve already told you that the whole time Angeline and I were married, I was faithful to her.”

  Wondering which of all those women he’d had affairs with, knowing she’d hate them on sight, Lise took a steadying breath. “I didn’t know you grew up in poverty.”

  “I’m not ashamed of it. But I don’t go around advertising it, either.”

  “Are your parents still alive?”

  He said in a clipped voice, “I never knew my father, he was gone long before I was born. My mother died when I was five. Of undernourishment and overwork.”

  In deep distress Lise whispered, “But you were younger than Emmy.”

  “Don’t go feeling sorry for me.”

  She said quietly, “Where did you live after that?”

  “Orphanage. Could have been better, could have been worse. I always knew I’d be out of there as fast as I could, and that I wouldn’t be back…I don’t know why I’m telling you this, I never talk about it.” His clasp tightened on her shoulders, and in the semidarkness his eyes were like shards of slate. “Do you believe me, Lise—that I was faithful to Angeline?”

  Lise hesitated a fraction too long. He said with ugly emphasis, “You’re going to have to choose. You can believe Angeline. Or you can believe me. One or the other. And until you do, I’m going back to that promise I made before we went to Dominica—and this time, don’t try changing my mind. Because it won’t work.”

  “You’re arrogant enough to assume I’d want to change your mind.”

  “Yeah,” he drawled, “I am.”

  “You know something? I learned a great many swearwords driving in the fire truck the last ten years, not one of which would do justice to the way I feel right now.”

  He let go of her and stepped back. “Then maybe you’d better go back to bed.”

  She was pregnant by this man? Halifax, here I come, thought Lise, and said sweetly, “I do hope you sleep well.”

  “You might want to buy a new nightgown with some of the money I’m paying you.”

  Anger and amusement teetered in the balance; despite herself, amusement won. Lise said, “No way—I’ve had this since I was seventeen.”

  He surveyed her from the ruffles at her throat to the rather frayed frill around her ankles. “Very sexy,” he said.

  “I’m attached to it.” Lise wrinkled her nose charmingly. “Sort of like Emmy and Plush.”

  “You look about seventeen in it.”

  “No kidding? Then I’d better hang on to it.”

  “Unfortunately it’s not acting as a deterrent. I still want to kiss you senseless.”

  “You can’t. You promised,” Lise said breathlessly.

  “Go to bed, Lise. Now. Alone. And that’s an order.”

  It wasn’t the moment to remember how she’d writhed in his arms in the velvety darkness of a Caribbean night. Almost tripping over the hem, Lise hurried to her room, fell into bed and pulled the covers over her head. She was in bed and she was definitely alone; although every fiber of her being ached for Judd to be here with her.

  For that to happen, she had to choose which one to believe. Judd, the man she’d made love with. Or Angeline, the cousin she’d adored.

  On Sunday Judd, Emmy and Lise went tobogganing on the slopes of Mont-Royal, with its panoramic view of skyscrapers and the sweep of the St. Lawrence River. Lise, without being too obvious about it, took only the safe runs, leaving Emmy and Judd to go over the jumps and capsize several times. Emmy’s cheeks were pink from cold and happiness; Judd looked so young and vital that Lise had to avert her eyes. She was trying very hard to repress the knowledge of her pregnancy, afraid that if she didn’t, Judd would take one look at her and discern her secret. But the unfeigned pleasure he was taking in his daughter’s company hurt something deep inside her. She couldn’t seriously be contemplating moving to Halifax and never telling Judd he was the father of two children, rather than one?

  When they got back to the house, they headed for the back door with all their wet gear and Emmy started lobbing snowballs indiscriminately at her father and Lise. Lise retaliated, ducked to avoid a big gob of snow flung by Judd, tripped and fell backward into a deep, fluffy snow-bank. Icy crystals trickled across her cheeks and down her neck. Emmy tumbled on top of her, thrusting more snow down her collar.

  Laughing so hard she couldn’t stop, Lise gurgled, “That’s cold—stop, Emmy! I’ll read you six stories before you go to bed, I promise—”

  Emmy picked up one last mittful of snow and let it fall over Lise’s flushed cheeks. “You’re really pretty,” she said spontaneously. “I’m glad you live with us, I like you a lot.”

  The laughter died from Lise’s face. She said unevenly, “Thanks, Emmy. I like you, too. Very much.”

  “That’s good,” Emmy said. “Dad, can we have hot chocolate when we go in?”

  “I think that could be arranged,” Judd drawled, and pulled Lise to her feet, keeping hold of her hands so that for the space of a few seconds she was standing close to him. “I agree with you, Emmy—Lise is very pretty.”

  His eyes were lingering on her mouth; she could almost taste the heat of his lips on hers. In a strangled voice, Lise muttered, “Ther
e’s cold water running down my back and I want three oatmeal cookies with my hot chocolate.”

  “A woman of immoderate appetites,” said Judd, and released her.

  “You got it,” she said, and scurried for the back porch, the image of his sculpted mouth shivering along her nerves. As she pushed open the door and stepped inside, the heat hit her like a blow. Her vision blurred. The row of coats hanging on hooks swooped and dived like a flock of great birds, while the floor rushed up to meet her. From an immense distance Lise felt someone grab her before she could hit the gray ceramic tiles.

  Her limbs were as useless as spaghetti. Blackness shot with all the colors of the rainbow swirled through her brain. Then she was on the floor, her head shoved between her knees. The colors were swallowed by a red haze. Dimly wondering if she was going to be sick, Lise heard Emmy’s frightened whisper, “Dad, is she okay?”

  “Sure,” Judd said calmly. “It was just the heat, Emmy. You know Maryann, she likes to keep the place as hot as Dominica.”

  As Emmy gave a weak giggle, Lise raised her head. “S-sorry,” she mumbled. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Your face is white, just like the snow,” Emmy announced.

  Little wonder, thought Lise dazedly; she felt drained and utterly exhausted. She never fainted. Never. Then in a spurt of pure terror she realized the cause must be her pregnancy. Of course. She didn’t have morning sickness, but she couldn’t hope to escape all the symptoms. She said more strongly, pushing against the floor, “I feel better now, I’m sorry I—”

  Judd said forcibly, “Don’t be in such an all-fired hurry.”

  His arms were around her shoulders and she could smell, elusively, the masculine scent of his skin, so achingly familiar, so longed for and so out of reach. Her eyes skidded from the concern in his face. She said clumsily, “I’m fine, Judd, it was just the heat and—”

  With genuine interest, Emmy said, “Did you used to faint when you went to fires? Because they’re really hot.”

  Lise gaped at her in horror. Emmy had put her finger on it: Why would an ex-firefighter faint because of a little heat? Say something, Lise, she thought. Anything at all. Because you can’t risk Judd guessing why you fainted. “We’re already wearing all that gear I showed you,” she stumbled. “So we’re hot to start with.”

  Judd interposed, “Why don’t you go and ask Maryann to rustle up the hot chocolate, Emmy? I’ll take Lise into the den.”

  Emmy pulled off her boots, hung up her snowsuit and ran for the kitchen. Judd knelt in front of Lise and eased her boots from her feet. Snow had melted in his hair; his lashes were very dark against his cheek. Just as, involuntarily, her hand reached out to brush a strand of hair back from his forehead, he looked up. His eyes burned into hers as though he’d stripped her naked; as though every secret she’d ever harbored must be known to him. Then his mouth plummeted to hers, and another kind of heat surged through her body. With a moan of delight, Lise kissed him back, withholding nothing.

  For moments that felt like forever to Lise, their lips clung together, his big body crouched over her. From behind them, Emmy said, “That’s what people do when they’re going to get married. My friend Charlene told me.”

  Judd’s mouth wrenched itself from Lise’s. He surged to his feet and for the first time in their acquaintance Lise saw that he was at a loss for words. Emmy added, her heart-shaped face alive with interest, “Is that why Lise came to live here? Because you’re going to get married?”

  “No!” Judd raked his fingers through his disordered hair. “Of course not. She’s here to look after you, Emmy. That’s all.”

  “Then why were you—”

  “There are some things you won’t understand until you’re older,” he said repressively. “Did you ask Maryann about the hot chocolate?”

  “She thought you might want coffee instead. That’s why I came back.”

  “You go and tell her hot chocolate’s fine, Emmy.”

  Emmy headed for the kitchen, her mouth a mutinous line. Judd said irritably, “She’s quite intelligent enough to know she’s been given the brush-off. I was a fool to even touch you. It won’t happen again. Believe me.”

  Lise did. Bereft, aroused, furious, frightened…what other emotions were left for her to feel? She pushed herself to her feet, staggering a little, and faltered, “This evening I’ll remind her that I’m only here temporarily.”

  “You do that.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re so angry—you’re the one who kissed me!”

  “You think I don’t know that?” he exploded. “You just have to look at me with those big green eyes and I act with as much common sense as a teenager. And about as much restraint.”

  “And how you hate it,” she whispered.

  “That’s as good a word as any for the way I feel right now.”

  “So why don’t you fire me before we get into any worse trouble? Emmy already likes me…oh God, Judd, I should never have come here.”

  “You know what?” he snarled. “I’ve built up an international fleet of airlines, made a fortune into the bargain, and everything I’ve ever learned flies out the window when I’m anywhere near you. Explain that to me, will you?”

  “Basic chemistry. Your words.”

  His expletive made her wince. He said flatly, “I’m going to the kitchen before Emmy comes looking for us again. One last thing, Lise—what happened just now, it’s not going to happen again. Do you hear me?”

  “You’re repeating yourself,” she retorted, and hauled down the zipper on her parka. “You loathe being out of control, Judd Harwood, that’s your problem.”

  “I also loathe being psychoanalyzed!”

  “Especially when it’s a mere woman who’s gotten to you,” she added recklessly, hauling off her toque and shaking out her hair.

  Judd took a step closer to her, tipping up her chin with one finger. “There’s something you ought to know about me—I pick up challenges that other men run from. So don’t push me too far.”

  Her eyes dropped from the threat in his, as instinctively she stepped backward. But her voice, she was proud to notice, sounded quite sure of itself. “Hadn’t you better find Emmy?”

  “Remember what I’ve just said. For your own sake.”

  He strode down the hall toward the kitchen. Although adrenaline was charging through her veins, Lise’s knees still felt as shaky as a day-old kitten’s. For a woman known to keep her cool in emergencies, she wasn’t doing very well.

  But at least Judd wasn’t suspicious about her dizziness.

  He hated being around her. The last thing he needed to know was that she was carrying his child.

  A couple of days later Lise, Emmy and Judd were eating lunch together in the solarium. Another symptom of pregnancy seemed to be an overriding lethargy; Lise felt tired and dull-witted, and was glad to let Emmy carry the bulk of the conversation. At the end of the meal, Judd said curtly, “Once Emmy’s gone back to school, Lise, would you come to my office for a minute?”

  “Of course,” she said coolly.

  When she tapped on his door, he got up from his desk, his expression inscrutable. “Are you coming down with the flu? You don’t look your best.”

  Her lashes flickered. “I’m fine,” she replied. “That wasn’t why you wanted to see me, surely?”

  “I’ll be out of town from Thursday until the following Tuesday,” Judd rapped. “I’ve left the details of my trip in this envelope, you’ll only need to open it if I’m delayed.”

  “You’re away a lot,” Lise said, giving him an unfriendly stare.

  “I moved to Montreal with the mistaken idea that it would be nice for Emmy to stay in touch with her grandmother,” Judd said tersely. “By the time it became obvious that was a lost cause, Emmy had settled in here and made friends. So I stayed. But the upshot is I have to travel a lot.”

  “Be honest, Judd. You value money more than people. Business comes first—Angeline used to complain ab
out that.”

  “Once her career took off, Angeline did photo shoots all over the world,” Judd snapped. “Although I’m damned if I know why I’m justifying what I do to you.”

  “No wonder Emmy gets lonesome.”

  “She doesn’t have to be lonesome now that you’re here.”

  “You’re her father. Her ultimate security.”

  “You’re determined to pick a fight, aren’t you?” he accused. “I told you to choose between Angeline’s version of our marriage and mine. I can see that you’ve decided to believe my ex-wife. Good for you. Just don’t go poisoning Emmy’s mind against me, will you?”

  Lise’s head snapped up. “You think I’d do that?”

  “How do I know?” Scowling, he added, “Take tomorrow off—I want to tell Emmy my plans and spend some extra time with her.”

  A day away from Judd sounded like heaven. Because being with him was sheer hell.

  Hell? Lise thought in faint dismay. That was a strong word. She really did need a day off. A day away from Judd Harwood, his daughter and his business trips.

  Maybe he was going to see a woman. Why else would he leave the details of his trip in a sealed envelope?

  She’d start cleaning out her apartment tomorrow, she thought fiercely. It was a job she was dreading. But it would keep her mind off Judd. And his women.

  Or one particular woman. The one he’d be with the next few days. How she detested the thought of him in another woman’s arms!

  CHAPTER TEN

  JUDD left on Thursday, with the briefest of goodbyes to Lise. On Friday afternoon, while Emmy was in school, Lise went to her family doctor and was told that she was indeed pregnant. She took the pamphlets he offered about nutrition and health care, evaded his tactful questions and drove back to Judd’s.

  Emmy brought three friends home from school, which kept Lise satisfactorily busy. But once Emmy was in bed, Lise went to her room. Too restless to read, she flicked on the TV, watched a sitcom during which she didn’t laugh once, and then switched to the news channel. Posturing politicians, terrorist bombings, demonstrations…then a dusty airstrip surrounded by listless trees. One of the two planes involved in a Red Cross relief airlift into the Sudan had crashed; the camera zoomed in to show a group of people standing by the second plane, and suddenly her attention sharpened.