Bittersweet Love

by Cathy Williams

  Her head was hurting by the time she made it back to her office. Should she be flattered at his determination, she wondered, or insulted? He assumed, despite everything she had said to him, that he would sooner or later achieve his objective in seducing her, but was it really so surprising? She doubted he had ever failed with a woman. He had that fatally potent combination of good looks, intelligence and charm which most women would find impossible to resist.

  Tony grinned at her absent-mindedly when she swept into the office and asked her how lunch went.

  Fine,’ Natalie replied vaguely.

  ‘Managed to cut any deals for me?’ he joked, and Natalie thought, If only you knew. The subject hadn’t even arisen.

  She seemed to spend the next week looking over her shoulder, wondering whether he was going to spring any surprise visits on her, and quite prepared to hide under her bed if he did.

  But there was no sign of him. Maybe, she thought, he had found himself another woman. The thought was so sickening that she shoved it to the back of her mind, then immediately told herself off for being a fool. She should be hoping that he did find someone else, because that would at least deflect him away from her and give her the peace of mind she wanted to crave.

  It didn’t help that just when she needed the calm company of Eric he was becoming elusive. Appointments seemed to be springing up all over the place for him until she teased light-heartedly, ‘You’re avoiding me, aren’t you?’

  ‘No, of course not!’ Eric exclaimed, but was there the tiniest element of sheepishness behind his denial?

  Later, when they met for a meal in one of the wine bars in the West End, he confessed, red-faced, that he had been dating another woman.

  Natalie laughed, delighted. ‘Who?’

  ‘Another totally unsuitable woman,’ he admitted, sipping from his glass of wine and shaking his head wistfully.

  Natalie nodded sympathetically. Didn’t she know first hand what he was going through? Except she was desperately trying to avoid her totally unsuitable man. Presumably Eric still had some control over his life and his emotions and had not lost both the way she stupidly had.

  She was so engrossed with her problems, that frantic desire to never clap eyes on Kane Marshall ever again mixed with a shameful yearning for everything he could give her, her job, that she assumed that nothing further could complicate her life. There was a limit to how cruel fate could be, wasn’t there?

  At first, she pretended to herself that it just couldn’t be, that those bouts of nausea which seemed to be getting more frequent were simply the outcome of an upset stomach. Or stress. Probably the two, she decided.

  On the fourth day she convinced herself that it had been a total waste of money purchasing a home pregnancy kit. On the sixth day, she decided that she might as well get value for her wasted money by at least using the damn thing. Complete waste of time, she told herself, as she sat in the lounge and waited for the kit to back her up.

  The positive result was such a shock that Natalie stared at it for fifteen minutes in horrified silence, overcome by the urge to faint.

  It couldn’t be true. She tried to think clearly, but it was difficult. She wanted to collapse. She closed her eyes and opened them again very slowly, thinking that perhaps she had imagined the whole thing. But she had not

  In the end she phoned her sister, but instead of explaining the situation she chatted about everything else, her voice bright and cheerful, and hung up feeling even more isolated and frightened than ever.

  What was she going to do? Darkness gathered around her and she remained sitting in the lounge, not bothering to switch on the lights. Nothing that had ever happened in her life before could have prepared her for this. The shock, the frightening reality of it, deadened her until her brain became sluggish and could only revolve around and around on the same lines. A baby. In her. Kane’s baby—and what the hell was she going to do?

  She didn’t hear the knocking on the door, wasn’t aware of the dark figure pushing it open then moving quickly towards her. At least, she wasn’t aware of the dark figure until he was kneeling in front of her, his face barely discernible in the dark. Then she sprang up, her face white.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked in a high, uneven voice.

  Kane stood up, his eyes urgent and penetrating.

  ‘I knocked but there was no answer so I pushed the door and it was open. What the hell is going on here? Why are you sitting here in darkness?’

  Natalie stared at him mutely. Seeing Kane here, like this, had thrown her into a state of shock and she felt as though she would choke if she tried talking.

  ‘Answer me!’ He gripped her by her elbows and shook her slightly, sending her hair flying around her face.

  It galvanised her frozen mind back into action and she wrenched herself free.

  ‘I told you I didn’t want to see you,’ she said quickly and desperately. ‘I told you. So get out.’ Her voice was rising with each syllable and Kane was staring at her with a bemused frown. He knew that something was very wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what. Natalie laughed out loud and the laughter sounded shrill and uncontrolled even in her own ears.

  ‘What’s happened?’ he demanded, striding over to the light-switch and turning on the lights.

  Natalie put her hands to her face. Anyone would think that he was concerned about her. He deserved an Oscar for the performance.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said fighting to keep her voice steady and so not arouse his suspicions even further. ‘I had a bit of a headache, that’s all.’ She rubbed her temples. Her head really did hurt as well. It hurt with all the pain and confusion she was feeling inside. They said that your emotions could make you physically ill.

  Kane moved over to the sofa and sat beside her, his body depressing the cushions and making her dip slightly towards him. From this close, his clean masculine scent filled her head like incense, and it was an effort to re-member that small fact of her pregnancy, lying there like a time bomb waiting to explode.

  All of a sudden, her mind became very lucid. Whereas before she had been swept up in a whirlpool of sickening panic, now, ironically with him sitting right there by her, she thought quickly and clearly.

  He must not find out. That seemed to be the most important thing. She had no intention of terminating the pregnancy. On the other hand, she was not going to confront him with it either. She half suspected that he would feel obliged to do the honourable thing and get her up to the altar, and Natalie could think of nothing worse than a marriage conceived for the wrong reasons.

  It was a tremendous struggle, though, not to succumb to that alluring desire to crack up, to rant and rave and share her terrible anguish with the man who had created it, because ironically he would have been the one person who would have understood. But there was no way that she could afford to do that.

  No, she had to be sensible. Her impassioned rejection of him had merely served to stoke his interest. She would have to try another tack altogether. Indifference. That, if nothing else, would be guaranteed to kill any curiosity he might have about her potential as a short-term affair.

  ‘Can I get you a cup of coffee?’ she asked, venturing’ a smile.

  Kane’s frown deepened. He was not stupid. He knew that there was something suspicious about her sudden mood-switch, but he could not work out what. He shook his head and continued to look at her.

  ‘What about something cold?’ she pressed. ‘I don’t tend to have a great deal of alcohol in the house, but——’

  ‘How come the sudden hostess act?’ he interrupted drily. He sat back in the sofa and folded his arms. ‘Don’t tell me that your headache has brought on a change of temperament.’

  ‘I’m always a good hostess,’ Natalie informed him, twisting her fingers nervously together, and immediately pulling herself up short when he noticed the unconscious motion.

  ‘Let me get you something.’ He stood up and flexed his arms, and she followed the movement with hu
ngry absorption. ‘You don’t exactly look very good. You’re as white as a sheet. I had no idea you were prone to such bad headaches. You never had them when you were working for me.’ He paused and then said mockingly, ‘Maybe working for Tony Harding doesn’t agree with you.’

  Wouldn’t you like me to agree to that one? Natalie thought bitterly. Then you could use all that charm to try and persuade me that working for you would take care of all my headaches. And you’d have all the time in the world to plan and execute your seduction.

  The thought was so nightmarish that she actually shuddered. She had no idea how pregnant she was, but sooner or later she would begin to show, and when that time arrived she would have to make sure that she was as far as possible away from Kane Marshall, even if it meant buying herself a one-way ticket to Timbuktu.

  ‘It’ s been a bit muggy today,’ she offered by way of feeble explanation. ‘That’s probably it’

  ‘Now, what can I get you?’

  Natalie looked up at him and sighed. He wasn’t about to leave and there was no point in forcing the issue. That would just convince him that something really was wrong, and once he began thinking along those lines it would only be a matter of time before he arrived at the correct explanation. He was damned clever and very shrewd with it.

  ‘There’s some orange juice in the fridge,’ she said, defeated, and he vanished towards the kitchen.

  Natalie lay back and stared at the ceiling. Why couldn’t her life have been straightforward? she asked herself. Why did she have to go and fall in love with Kane Marshall, and then, to top it off, find herself pregnant by him? It was all her fault, of course, but pointing the finger of blame wasn’t going to change anything.

  When he returned to the lounge he was carrying a plate of scrambled eggs on toast, as well as the glass of juice, both of which he deposited on the coffee-table in front of her. The gesture brought a lump to Natalie’s throat. She knew that he could be thoughtful, she had seen evidence of it in the past, but right now that particular trait didn’t help matters at all.

  Thank you,’ she murmured huskily. ‘You needn’t have gone to all this bother.’

  He sat next to her and grinned. ‘Believe me, scrambled eggs on toast don’t rate as cordon-bleu cooking.’

  Natalie looked across at him and their eyes tangled.

  ‘You know what I mean,’ she said, addled. It tasted good too, she thought, looking away and digging into the plateful of food. She was hungrier than she had thought. Starving, in fact. There was something terribly relaxing about his presence just now. Unthreatening and comfortable. She must be losing her mind, she decided. All the same, it was nice to have someone with her. And not just someone, the father of her baby. The enormity of the thought brought a flush of colour to her cheeks.

  ‘I had no idea you were this domestic,’ she said in a rush, to hide the sudden flare of panic. ‘Egg on toast, orange juice.’ She laughed nervously. ‘I know it’ s not haute cuisine, but I still never associated cooking with you.’

  There was a little silence, then Kane said with a mixture of levity and seriousness, ‘Nor did I.’

  She scraped the plate clean and gave a little sigh. Oh, wouldn’t it be nice to pretend that this fantasy could last forever? To be able to pretend that she could actually climb out of this awful whirlpool into which she had been sucked?

  ‘Headache feeling any better?’ he asked and she nodded, her eyes half closed. ‘Your colour’s returned,’ he informed her.

  ‘Being nice to me isn’t going to get me into bed with you,’ Natalie said, her voice sharp and defensive, and Kane threw her an impatient frown.

  ‘Are you usually so suspicious?’

  ‘Only with you.’ She looked at him levelly, knowing that she would have to make him understand, somehow, that she was not available, and that persistence was not going to pay off eventually, which was the illusion he appeared to be harbouring.

  ‘Thank you for making me feel so special. Can’t you control that tendency of yours for honesty just a little bit?’ He strolled across to the window and stared outside, his back to her.

  Go away, she wanted to scream. Leave me alone with my problems! I’m having your baby and I’m scared to death and your being here just makes everything worse!

  ‘It isn’t going to work,’ she said bluntly, ignoring his gibe.

  ‘You’re attracted to me,’ he rasped, turning around to look at her, semi-perched on the window-ledge.

  ‘It was a mistake,’ Natalie pleaded. ‘I know I was attracted to you, but I’m not like that. I don’t want to have an affair with you.’

  ‘Well, then marry me,’ he said carelessly.

  Natalie looked at him, stunned. ‘What?’

  ‘Marry me.’ He shrugged.

  ‘You don’t believe in marriage. You told me.’ She un-consciously rested the flat of her hand on her stomach and momentarily lost herself in the fantasy of being Kane Marshall’s wife.

  He lowered his eyes so that she couldn’t read the expression on his face. ‘Perhaps it’s inescapable.’ His head snapped up and he glared at her. ‘Aren’t you flattered that I’m willing to take that step just to get you into my bed?’

  ‘And aren’t you relieved when I tell you that I would never even consider it?’

  ‘Why not?’ he asked aggressively, walking towards her. ‘You once gave me a great long lecture on the importance of marriage and commitment. So I’m offering it to you. It’ s the most any woman’s ever got out of me.’

  Things were so black and white with him, Natalie thought. Did he really imagine for a moment that she would marry him simply to satiate his lust? And what about when he got bored with her? Divorce? Or maybe he would just tuck her away in his country house and pick up the threads of his other women in London.

  And what about the baby? He might let her go, but he would never let his child go. That was something she knew instinctively. And then, if she did marry him, would he jump to the conclusion that she had got herself pregnant on purpose and forced him into a back-handed marriage by holding out on sexual favours?

  It was a sickening thought and she had no intention of letting it even cross his mind.

  ‘Thank you for the proposal of marriage,’ she said stiffly, ‘but I’m afraid I can’t oblige.’

  ‘For God’s sake, woman, what the hell else do you want?’ he thundered furiously. Dented pride, she thought, what rage it inspired.

  ‘I don’t want anything from you. Can’t you under-stand that?’

  ‘No.’ He gave her an angry, bewildered look.

  Natalie said with a catch in her voice, ‘When I was young, and I imagined being proposed to, I always thought that there would be a touch of romance about it.’ She was thinking her thoughts out loud rather then levelling a criticism, but he immediately rushed to his defence.

  ‘Are you saying that you want more romance? I’ll give you flowers,’ he muttered darkly. ‘You just never struck me as the sentimental sort.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It’ s no good.’

  ‘Fine.’ He stood up and that hurt pride had trans-formed itself into coldness. ‘I don’t intend to beg.’

  ‘I didn’t think that I had asked you to.’ If only she could say something trite, like, Couldn’t we please still remain friends? But she knew that that would not have been acceptable to him, and if it had been it would be a disaster anyway. So she hung her head and stared in fascination at her fingers.

  He walked across to the door and paused with his hand on the doorknob.

  ‘I hope that poor sucker knows what he’s letting himself in for,’ he snarled. ‘Does he know that you intend to twist him round your little finger?’

  That stung. He made her sound like a dragon.

  ‘I don’t intend to do any such thing,’ she retaliated, her anger beginning to match his.

  ‘Well, good luck. You’ll damn well need it if you’re going to settle down with that half-wit of an accountant.’

  He left the flat
, slamming the door shut behind him, and Natalie stared at it for several minutes before getting up and clearing away her plate and glass—reminders of a side to him that she did not want to recall.

  She took the next morning off work to go and see her doctor, a boy who looked years younger than herself and did not seem in the slightest bit perturbed that she was unmarried.

  ‘All seems fine,’ he said, ‘and I needn’t tell you that you can continue working pretty much to the end.’ He ran through the usual routine things, but his words had set her mind reeling off on a new tangent.

  Work. Of course, she would have to leave before the pregnancy became noticeable. She could not have Tony revealing to Kane that she was pregnant. That would be a disaster. Why hadn’t she thought of this before?

  On the spur of the moment she decided to take the remainder of the week off and visit her sister. Selina lived in the country with her husband and children, and could be relied upon to make Natalie forget some of her troubles. She was placid and understanding.

  Natalie relaxed there for four days, hugging her secret to herself, waiting for just the right moment to confide, and then departed without having said a word. Her sister was not at all old-fashioned, but somehow Natalie thought that she would be shocked. Pregnancy outside marriage, and a relationship for that matter, would not have shocked her, but the fact that her sister was the one pregnant would have. And right now Natalie couldn’t deal with that sort of reaction.

  She returned to London to find that Eric had been calling her persistently at work.

  ‘I need to see you,’ he told her, when she finally found the time and the energy to return his calls. They arranged to meet at one of the bistros which was close to the Marshall Corporation and which Natalie had grown fond of over the past few years. It was cosy without being claustrophobic and the prices were affordable. Quite a few of the secretaries frequented it because they could enjoy a pleasant evening there without having to take out a bank loan for the privilege.