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She was living for sex—that didn’t sound healthy, but it was fun—while it lasted. And that was the point: how long would it last? Then they would be polite or maybe resentful strangers, the only thing holding them together a child.
When the consultant walked back into the office, Seb, who had sat in a chair opposite her trying to channel relaxed, surged to his feet.
‘Congratulations.’
He had his back to her, so Mari couldn’t see his expression, just the tension in his broad shoulders. It was gone when Seb exchanged a manly handshake with the other man and put a hand under Mari’s elbow as she rose, as though she were already burdened by a pregnancy bump.
On the drive back he was unnaturally silent. It wasn’t until they turned into the parkland that he slowed the car and stopped.
‘Are you all right with this?’
She didn’t respond.
‘Aren’t you excited?’ With a frown he searched her face. ‘Happy...sad...angry...?’
Crazily, she welcomed the shade of irritation that had crept into his voice.
‘I already knew,’ she admitted.
He stared at her for a moment before blasting, ‘Then why the hell didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because you wouldn’t have believed me!’ she flung back, feeling her energy levels rise as she fed off the static charge in the air that had been so absent in the past weeks.
His head went down, concealing his face, but she could see his shoulders lifting as he took several long deep breaths. When he lifted his chin from his chest his expression was pleasant... Now, there was a word she had never imagined she’d think in the same sentence as Seb Rey-Defoe.
‘You’re right...’ A muscle clenched in his lean cheek before he added, ‘I’m sorry.’
She sucked in a furious breath, the anticlimax sending her spirits into a downward spiral. ‘It was probably my fault.’
Hating the dispirited note in her voice, he bit back a retort. He really didn’t know how long he could keep this up.
The harder he tried, the more distant she seemed to become. He had turned himself inside out trying to show her that living together did not have to be a constant battle. Did she appreciate how hard he was trying?
He’d have believed that she was indifferent to him if it weren’t for the fact that she was so insatiable in bed, and utterly uninhibited. He lived for those nights!
‘So I was thinking we’re officially married now as opposed to being temporarily married.’
As opposed to what we’d have been if I weren’t pregnant, she thought, looking out of the window to hide the hurt.
‘There’s a dinner at the end of the week, if you feel up to it—the royals are guests of honour.’
‘I’m not ill, I’m pregnant.’
‘Of course,’ he said, reminding himself that he needed to show he could be sensitive to hormones...sensitive, but not mention them—not as easy as it sounded. ‘I thought you’d like to officially be my hostess.’
‘Fine.’
* * *
That word had come back to haunt her on several occasions since.
The brisk walk through the park was not as relaxing as she’d intended. It was hard to forget tonight and relax when you couldn’t escape the reminder in the form of the magnificent facade of the house. It wasn’t just geography—the gardens had been designed with the vast Palladian mansion as the focal point. Like disapproving eyes, the rows of windows seemed to follow her.
She brushed away the fanciful notion, laughing at her overactive imagination and frowning at her nerves. Under the calm exterior—actually she was no longer so sure her calm, approaching comatose attitude had fooled anyone—Mari was eaten up by nerves. She felt so out of her depth that she was a stumble away from gibbering terror.
‘Don’t be a wimp.’ Above her stern voice the clock in the bell tower pealed out the half hour. With a deep sigh Mari squared her shoulders. She had timed it like a military operation so that she wouldn’t be dressed too soon and waiting in the wings twiddling her thumbs while she watched the second hand tick. She quickened her pace—she didn’t want getting ready to be a mad dash either.
The massive front door was flung open to allow access for the army of people who were preparing for this ‘simple little dinner party’. Everyone had a task, and no one seemed to notice Mari as she walked through the marble-floored hallway filled with light streaming in from the cupola overhead.
The double doors to the formal dining room were still open. As she slowed then paused to watch the hive of activity, she felt more than a little like a child who’d sneaked downstairs to watch from a distance the grown-ups’ party.
