by Iris Leach
“I was thinking.”
“Yeah? Well, I’ve seen concentration before but you take the cake. It’s like you’re off in some dream world.”
“The way I stare, act, or respond is none of your business.”
“Is there anything you should tell me?”
She bristled. “What are you talking about?”
He grinned. “Eccentricities in the family? Skeletons in the closet? Anything you want to share with me?”
“My family is from good Australian stock and proud of it.”
Without warning, he took her hand inside his, dragging her closer to him. She wanted to pull away. Honest she did. But he held her mesmerized with the wicked wonderful gleam in his eyes.
“Just now when you were talking about your family,” he said with a smile that lifted her heart and turned it upside-down. “You looked like an avenging angel.”
“Angel?”
He laughed softly. “Perhaps I should have said witch. Witches cast spells, don’t they?”
“Evil spells,” she said.
“Are you casting an evil spell around me, Honey?”
Charli became edgy with the proceeding conversation. They weren’t saying anything that really meant anything, yet somehow their words were electrified with intimacy. She shot her answer at him. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”
His lips brushed her hair. She trembled. “I don’t think that would be possible,” he said.
He raised a hand and lifted a wisp of her hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Her body quivered. She tugged her hand from his and moved backwards. What disturbed her the most was the racing of her heart, the shortness of her breath and the tingling sensation on her ear where his fingers had lightly brushed the skin.
Suddenly his lips were close to hers. She couldn’t take another one of his kisses. She would melt.
What were her true feelings for this man? She was so confused. One minute she hated him with an intensity that bewildered her, and the next she wanted him to kiss her with that same mystifying intensity. Was this love?
Before she could stop him — did she really want to? — his arm wound tightly around her waist, pulling her into him. Her body fused to his. “Hear my heart?” he said softly. “Hear it beating? It’s pounding for you.”
Whatever else she planned to say was lost as his mouth clamped down on hers, parting her lips with demanding force. Then suddenly his mouth was soft, yet insistent.
Oh. My. God.
She twisted her mouth away, but his lips followed hers and she pulsated under the power of his kiss. This time she had no intention of letting him go. She sighed against his mouth, wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and kissed him hard and long.
He held her gently, tracing his fingertips slowly up and down the curve of her spine as their kiss deepened. Heat spread though her bloodstream as his mouth moved over hers to imprison the very soul of her.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and her pulse throbbed plainly in the small groove at the base of her throat.
She forgot everything.
There was nothing left in the world but Will and what he was doing to her.
He kissed the tip of her nose, then her forehead, and her cheeks. She took his face between her hands and said, “Kiss me here.” And she dragged his head down until his mouth connected with hers in a kiss that had the power to destroy the world.
Sensations fell upon her and she succumbed to them willingly.
They lost control.
Will’s hands slid along her ribs, over the outer curve of her breasts and down her hips.
Charli’s hands were massaging the strength of his shoulders; relishing the feel of hard muscle and tendons beneath. Her heart, her stomach, her groin all played a magical game of their own.
He unbuttoned her blouse.
She slipped his coat from his shoulders. It fell to the floor and joined with her blouse.
She felt his coolness against the warmth of her skin, his seeking hands finding her breasts. He fumbled with the hooks of her bra while she unbuttoned his shirt.
And he kissed her again. Unrestrained, mercilessly, as if he wanted to control her with his kisses. He kissed her forehead, her eyes, her throat and back to her eager mouth. She couldn’t get enough of him. She touched her tongue upon his lips. And then, in a wild flash of passion, she took hold of his head and drew him to her breast. He licked the darkening nipple, suckled it.
Both naked from the waist up they clamped together. His fingers touched her skin. The sensation was beyond imagination. An exquisite tenseness coiled around her. She wanted Will and she wanted him now.
He swept her into his arms. “Where’s the bedroom?”
She jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “Down the hall. The last room on the right.”
He carried her down the hall, kicked open the door, and placed her down on the bed. He lay next to her, curling her into his arms. His skin against hers. Delicious.
And then he was kissing every part of her. The breath caught in her throat as emotion upon emotion flooded her. She was being transported to heaven. “Touch me,” Charli whispered.
His hand caressed her breast. “Here?” His fingers drifted along her ribs and belly to rest lightly on the climax of her thighs. “Or here?”
Charli let out an excited gasp. “Oh, yes,” she murmured. “Yes, yes, yes.”
His kiss was passionate and long and they moved in a sensuous rhythm. There was no beginning, no end to them. They were one. Each delighting in pleasing the other.
He entered her, and when he moved inside her their hands clasped together and she was transported to another world, a world that belonged to her and Will.
Her climax came with soul-tearing excitement and she knew, she was at last, a woman in every sense of the word.
He rolled from her and gave a small laugh. “Never thought I’d end up in your bed. This is the last place I expected to be.”
And his words hurt her. Made her realize what they had done. It hadn’t been special for Will. Not like for her. She clenched her hands so tightly her fingernails bit into the soft skin of her palm.
He’d wanted sex and she’d been handy. Swine. He was a user from way back. Creep.
Sanity crept into her brain. What was she doing, for heaven’s sake? One minute she was screaming that she’d never sleep with him, and here she was curled up in his arms like some contented cat.
Shame descended. How could she have made love with such a callous man; a man who couldn’t care less who was in his bed as long as it was a woman.
So, in her shame she spoke harshly, foolishly. “Please leave my bedroom,” she said in a tone not unlike a ravished maiden in an historical novel.
“What?”
“I said, get out, you sex maniac.” Brown eyes stared into green. “Don’t think I’m always going to be that easy, mate.”
“What the hell’s going on?”
“You attacked me when my defenses were down.”
“Attacked you? You almost bruised me out there in the kitchen.”
“I don’t wish to discuss it.”
“I bet you don’t.”
“Kindly get dressed and leave my flat.”
“With pleasure, lady,” he said, scrambling from the bed, dressing quickly.
A feeling of dismay engulfed her as he stamped down the passage. She cringed at the slamming of the front door. She’d allowed things to go too far. Why hadn’t she controlled the situation?
Because she’d wanted Will to make love to her.
Chapter Seven
The man pursues the woman.
It was over three weeks since she last saw Will. He’d tried telephoning her a few times but she’d refused to speak with him, hanging up as soon as she heard his voice. Once he’d come around to the flat. She’d hid in the kitchen until he gave up and went away. She knew he wanted to see her, at worst, apologize. She couldn’t take that. Hold out her hand and say, forget it
ever happened, I have. Oh, so not true.
There’d be nothing gained in seeing Will again. He was so not the man for her. No romance in his veins, a real bed-hopper. A man who’d forget your name by the time he’d left your house.
And as for job hunting she’d come up zilch, and she had to admit she was beginning to worry. Oh, she had the money left to her by Malcolm Knight and her savings, but paying her rent each month ate into it, and there were always the dreaded bills that were like a tidal wave that nothing could stop. She’d tried to work out how long her money would last, but it seemed that as soon as she budgeted, somehow it didn’t work out and she had less in her bank account than she’d bargained for.
She sat at the kitchen table, feeling despondent, low enough to cut a snail’s toenails. She was doodling on a pad, thinking of nothing in particular, when an electric shock shook her brain. She hadn’t had her period. Her eyes flew to the calendar. She always circled the date and she was always, always on time. She jumped from her chair and raced to the calendar.
She fell back against the kitchen wall, dropped to the floor in a crouch, her trembling knees lacking the strength to hold her. She was almost a month overdue.
Oh, shit, oh, God, oh, bloody hell, no way. She couldn’t be pregnant. It couldn’t be true.
Okay, okay, breathe deeply. Don’t panic, you’re lost if you panic. Relax. Think more clearly.
Maybe the stress of the past few weeks had spun her body out of whack. She’d read somewhere that a woman hadn’t menstruated for over a year after her parents had been killed in a car crash.
Charli needed proof. Grabbing her purse and car keys, she left the house for the nearest pharmacy.
• • •
Charli couldn’t take her eyes from the pregnancy test. It only took a couple of minutes, yet to her it seemed hours. “Please, please, please show minus.” Then, under her distressed and anxious eyes, came the dreaded plus sign.
Charli slumped onto the toilet, head cradled in her hands. It couldn’t be. Oh dear God, she was pregnant. Her first instinct was to race around the bathroom like a chicken with its head cut off. Don’t panic, whatever you do, don’t panic.
She moved from the bathroom to the kitchen and put on the kettle. She had no job, no prospects. How could she raise a child?
Tears stung, she blinked them back. She’d go to the farm with her dad. Except her dad wouldn’t understand why she was pregnant in the first place and where was the father, and why wasn’t he marrying her? If she raved on about love, her dad would toss that aside with a growl, and tell her the most important thing was the protection and care of the baby.
It would destroy her dad more, and he was so darn low trying to get over her mum’s passing.
She had two choices. Abort or keep the baby.
She had one choice and she knew it. No way could she abort her child, it wasn’t a thing she could do.
The telephone rang. “Hello?”
“Hi, it’s me. Wanna meet for lunch?”
“Judy. Can you come here and I’ll make us some toasted cheese?”
“Aww, I was thinking grilled fish and salad.”
“Then you bring lunch here.”
“Something wrong?”
“Just get here quick.”
• • •
They’d finished lunch and having their coffee when Judy said, “What’s up, kiddo? You look down in the dumps.”
“I’m pregnant,” Charli blurted and burst into a flood of tears.
Her friend raced around and threw her arms around Charli’s shoulders. “Oh hell, you poor duck.” She moved a little away, patting Charli’s hand. “Who’s the bastard responsible?”
Charli took a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. “He was just a one-night stand.”
“Even so, you must have at least known his name.”
“I — it’s not important.”
“Not important? What are you, the sacrificial victim of the year? Now ’fess up, who’s the daddy?”
“Will.”
“Will who?”
“The boss, Will, that’s who.”
Judy’s mouth gaped open. “William Knight? He’s the father? Bloody hell. How did it happen?”
“What do you mean, how did it happen? The way it always happens. We had sex.”
“Yeah, I know that, I meant how did it happen between you and Will? You don’t even like the bloke.”
“It just happened. We didn’t plan it.”
Judy scratched her head. “I’m totally confused. I mean did you go to a hotel? What? Where? How?”
“Old Mr. Knight left me some money, and Will came over to talk about it. One minute we were talking about this and that and the next he was in my bed.”
“Oh, shit. So what are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t be daft. The man’s loaded. He had his fun now, he’s gotta pay the price.”
“He doesn’t give a rat’s arse about me or the baby. I haven’t spoken to him since that night.” That wasn’t altogether a lie — after all, she’d refused to speak to him. Her conscience got the better of her. “Well, he did try a couple of times to speak to me.”
“Why wouldn’t you speak to him?”
“I didn’t want to, that’s why. There’s nothing between us that’s stable, or even the tiniest bit romantic.”
“So what? Bugger that. He’s got to face his responsibilities. It’s not as if you raped him, is it?”
Charli laughed through her tears. “Hardly. He’s built like a brick outhouse.”
“Tell him, Charli, he has the right to know.”
“I will tell him.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Judy sighed. “What a bloody mess. What can I do to help?”
Charli shook her head. “This is my problem and I’ll work it out.”
Chapter Eight
Do not cause offense toward her family.
Charli climbed out of the bath, wrapped herself in a large towel, and headed for her bedroom. An early night and a good book was the order of the day. She dried herself off, slipped on her Bugs Bunny pjs and slid her feet into slippers shaped like a carrot. Another gift from Judy.
She headed for the kitchen to make herself a hot chocolate when the doorbell rang. “Damn, who could it be at this hour?” She shuffled her way to the door, and through her peephole stared at the creature from hell on her doorstep. He looked bedraggled as if he hadn’t slept for a week. She refused to feel sympathy for him. “What do you want?” she called through the letter slot.
“We need to talk. I intend to wait here until you let me in.”
Charli chewed her bottom lip.
“Let me in, Honey.” He banged the door with his fist. “I mean it. I won’t budge from your doorstep.”
“Okay, okay, don’t break down the door,” she said as she opened it and allowed him entrance.
There was dark fire in his eyes and a fine chill threaded through her. He was as mad as a maniac with a meat axe.
“When were you going to tell me? Next week, next month, next bloody year? I’ve got a share in this baby too. He’s my child.”
She held up her hands. “Now don’t go off half-cocked.” She turned and shuffled back into the kitchen. “I’m making hot chocolate, want one?”
He almost fell into a chair, elbow on the table, holding his forehead with one hand. “I had to hear about the baby from my receptionist.”
Damn Judy. She should have known she’d blab. Maybe on another level she had known that Judy would tell Will and maybe this was what she’d wanted her to do. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in me or the baby.”
He raised his stricken face. “Don’t be so bloody stupid.”
She sat opposite him, contrite. “I’m sorry, Will, I should have been the one to tell you.”
He grinned. Her heart melted. “The main thing is I know now. The next thing is what to do about the situation?”
She shrugged.
“You’re financially strapped?” he said.
She straightened in her chair. “I have enough money to last a year.”
“I’ve thought this over carefully, Honey. I want to be involved in my child’s birth and his life. Therefore, I’m involved with yours.”
She began to splutter. He held up one hand. “You have two choices. Listen well to me, Honey, because it is what it is and nothing you can say or do will alter it. Are you with me so far?”
She nodded.
“Good, good. First choice. I support you financially until after the baby is born and until you find suitable employment. I can help you there also. I will, of course, always support my child both emotionally and financially. That’s a given.”
“And the second choice is?”
“Marry me.”
She choked, coughed, blinked her eyes and said, “That idea is intolerable. This is going from bad to worse. The answer is an unequivocal no.”
“Hear me out. Being a single mum is no picnic. You’ll get no respite. You’ll be on demand 24/7.”
“I can handle that. I’ll do anything for my — our child.”
“I’m sure you will.” He reached out to touch the top of her hand. “But there is only my mother and me, and she is, well, outmoded in her outlook on love and marriage. She wouldn’t understand you having my baby and me not marrying you. Me not standing up to my responsibilities.”
“You could explain that we don’t love each other.”
“Hell, Honey, that’s so lame, and not a reasonable excuse, not in my mother’s eyes. She’d say, we loved each other enough to make a life, and now we’re both responsible for that life. To take care and protect our child.” He stared at his hands. “There’s only you and your father, isn’t there?”
Miserable, she nodded. “Yes.”
“How would he take you having a baby and not being married?”
“He’d be delighted about the baby,” she said. Her shoulders slumped. “He wouldn’t like it for me.”
“I didn’t think he would. So the right thing for all is for us to marry.”
“Right thing?” she exploded. “You have such a nasty way of putting things.”