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Colour flooded her face. ‘Get out!’
‘Not until you’ve heard me out. Last night——’
‘Did you hear what I said? Get——’
She shrank back as he crossed the floor and grabbed her by the shoulders.
‘Not until you listen.’
‘No, Grant, you listen. I am not going to—to become pregnant with your child. I’m not going to—to be a brood mare, to give you a baby because you want one and——’ She made a strangled sound as one of her neighbours suddenly appeared at the head of the steps. The woman looked at her, eyes wide, and Hannah’s colour deepened. ‘We were—we were just talking about a—a TV show,’ she said wildly.
‘No, we weren’t,’ Grant said calmly. ‘We were discussing the pros and cons of having a baby.’
Hannah turned and retreated into her living-room. When she heard the door slam shut, she swung around.
‘I’m only going to say this once,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘Either you leave now, or I’ll——’
‘We talked about having children, remember? You said you wanted to be a mother.’
‘I did not!’
‘You did, dammit! You said you want—’
‘Wanted,’ she said tightly. ‘That’s the word, Grant. I wanted a child, once upon a time, when I had a husband and a wedding-band and—and all the silly dreams I’d…’ Her voice quavered. This was what he’d done with his stupid comments and his insensitivity, damn him; he’d dredged up all the hopes she’d buried along with her marriage. Hannah took a deep breath. ‘That’s beside the point anyway. What you’re suggesting has nothing to do with motherhood.’
His brows lifted. ‘Hasn’t it?’
‘For God’s sake, Grant, having a baby is more than—than biology.’
He nodded, his eyes fixed on her face.
‘It’s—it’s seeing your baby’s first tooth, and—and watching him take his first step,’ she said. ‘It’s staying up all night when he’s ill, it’s changing diapers and cleaning up spills and——’
‘I still don’t see the problem.’
Hannah threw up her hands in dismay. ‘It’s a life that’s part of you. How can you even suggest that I’d—I’d be willing to give birth to a child and—and hand it over to you?’
He snarled a word that turned her face red. ‘My God, is that how little you think of me? Did you really imagine I’d ask you to give birth to a child, then give it away?’
‘Well, isn’t that what——?’
‘No,’ he said coldly, ‘it isn’t.’ He unzipped his jacket, stripped it off, and tossed it on the sofa. ‘Is that coffee I smell?’
She blinked. ‘Yes.’
‘Where’s the kitchen? Through there?’ He turned before she could answer and strode into the next room. Hannah followed after him like a sleepwalker. By the time she arrived, he’d already found a mug and filled it with coffee. She watched as he tossed half of it down, shuddered, then poured a refill. ‘You weren’t paying attention to me last night, Hannah.’
‘I was. You said——’
‘I said, I wanted us to have a child. Us. You and I. I said I would pay all your expenses, that I’d sign papers making me responsible for the child’s support until it’s done with college or medical school or whatever.’ He took another swallow of coffee. ‘And,’ he said with emphasis, ‘I said he—or she—would reside with you, that I would support you, that you would raise the child and in every way be the kind of mother you’ve always wanted to be.’
Hannah reached behind her for a chair. Had he said all this? Not that it mattered. His proposal was out of the question. Perhaps he thought that if he explained it this way it would be more palatable, make him seem less a robot and more a man.
‘Hannah.’ Grant’s voice softened. She looked up and found him watching her carefully. ‘Do you understand? I certainly wasn’t asking you to bear a child and have no other involvement with it.’
‘It doesn’t matter. What you’re describing——’
‘Yes, I know.’ He thrust his fingers into his hair and raked it back from his forehead. ‘I mean, even though we both think that love and marriage are phoney excuses for people who just want sex——’
Hannah flushed. It was an assessment she couldn’t argue with. That was certainly all her ex had wanted from their relationship.
‘Still, there’s a certain validity in staying within conventions.’
‘Exactly. I’m glad you see how I feel, Grant. After all, having a child isn’t——’
‘I mean,’ he said, frowning, ‘it’s one thing to agree to have a baby without being bound by outmoded rules for its conception, but——’
‘What are you talking about? You just said——’
‘I’m talking about having a child without falling back on the old-fashioned ideas that control reproduction in our society, Hannah. They wouldn’t apply if we were to go any further with this idea.’
Why did everything this man said make her blush? She was too old to blush so easily; she wasn’t a teenager who turned red at the mention of sex.
And he was talking about doing it without sex, for God’s sake; he was talking about a procedure that was about as sexy as—as going to the gynaecologist.
She looked up. He was watching her narrowly, and suddenly she thought she knew how a mouse must feel as a cat herded it into a corner. She was being manipulated, with great delicacy but also with great determination, and the feeling was frightening.
She got quickly to her feet. ‘But we’re not going any further,’ she said, ‘so there’s no point in having this discussion, is there?’
‘It occurred to me, too,’ he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken, ‘that you might feel that our child had no legal father. You’d be wrong, of course; he would bear my name and I’d acknowledge him to the world—but…’ He frowned and thrust his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. ‘I never considered that you and the child would have to bear the onus of its being born out of wedlock.’ He smiled for the first time, and Hannah thought crazily that he suddenly looked very young and even more handsome than usual. ‘Ev
en though that’s a dated concept in some circles.’
‘Grant,’ Hannah said weakly, ‘this is—it’s all fascinating. And—and I suppose I should be flattered, I mean, that you’d ask me to—to have your child, but——’
‘So, what I’ve decided is that there’s only one way to deal with these issues. We’d still have the child as we’ve discussed.’
‘Without—without falling back on the old-fashioned ideas that surround reproduction?’
‘Yes.’ He paused and, for some reason, her heart did, too. ‘But we’d do it within the framework of a marriage.’
Marriage.
‘Marriage?’ she repeated incredulously.
‘Well, followed by divorce, of course. It’s the only solution, Hannah. Surely you see that?’
She stared at him in disbelief, trying to read something, anything, in his expression, but the only sign he gave that something unusual might be happening was the movement of a little muscle, knotting and unknotting in his jaw.
‘It would solve all our difficulties.’
‘But—but——’
‘I’d draw up a contract,’ he said quietly, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘So many months for you to become pregnant…’
‘Pregnant,’ she whispered, falling back into the chair.
‘Of course, it’s possible that might not occur, in which case I wouldn’t expect you to remain locked in the relationship forever.’
God! She had heard him discuss business deals with the same amount of emotion.
‘And if we weren’t successful I’d support you until you got your life organised again.’
Was he making some sort of bad joke? No, she thought as he swung towards her, no, he was serious. Her heart banged against her ribs.
‘As for living arrangements—my apartment is very large. It’s a triplex with a view of the Bridge—well, the point is, there are eighteen rooms, so you’d be assured of privacy. You’d have your own suite. As for what happens if our endeavour proves successful——’
‘Do you know how insane this is?’ she whispered.
