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Something in him railed against believing the worst of her, knowing her to be the person that she was, yet he refused to give house room to that voice. He felt he needed to be black and white or else forever be lost. Let it not be forgotten that she had refused to listen to him when he had attempted to explain the reason for his fabrications. She had turned her back and stalked off and for the past month he had seen and heard nothing from her.
She had taken off her coat, the gruesome coat which he was annoyed to discover made inroads into his indifference, because he could remember teasing her that she needed something a little less worn, that waterproof coats like that were never fashion statements.
‘What’s it like?’ Brianna opened the conversation with something as far removed from what she actually needed to say as she could get, and Leo shot her a perplexed glance.
‘What’s what like? What are you talking about?’
‘Having your... Having Bridget in your life. It must be very satisfying for you.’
Leo flushed. No one knew about Bridget, aside from Harry. He had never been the sort of man who spilled his guts to all and sundry and there had been absolutely no temptation to tell anyone about his mother living with him. He had not been dating, so there had been no women coming to his apartment, asking questions. Even if there had been, it was debatable whether he would have confided in any of them or not. He looked at her open, upturned face and found it hard to resurrect his cynicism.
‘It’s working for me,’ he said gruffly. Working for them both. The years had dropped off his mother. She had been to the hairdresser, had her hair styled, had her nails done... She bore little resemblance to the fragile creature he had first set eyes on.
Drinks were brought and he sat back to allow the waiter to fuss as he put them on the table, along with a plate of appetisers which had not been ordered. ‘But you didn’t come here to talk about my relationship with Bridget.’
‘No, I didn’t, but I’m interested.’ She just couldn’t launch into her real reason for coming to London without some sort of preamble.
And, an inner voice whispered, didn’t she just want to prolong being in his company, like a thief stealing time that didn’t belong to them? Didn’t she just want to breathe him in, that clean, masculine scent, and slide her eyes over a body she knew so well even when, as now, it was sheathed in the finest tailored suit money could buy?
‘Just tell me why you’re here, Brianna. You said something about money. How much are you looking for?’
‘It’s a bit more complicated than that.’
‘What’s more complicated than asking for a hand-out?’
Brianna looked down and fiddled with the bottle of water before pouring a little more into her glass. She envied him his stiff drink. She felt that under different circumstances, without this baby inside her, she could have done with a little Dutch courage.
‘Leo...’ She looked him directly in the eye and felt that this was the last time that she would be seeing him like this: a free man who could do whatever he wanted to do. She could even appreciate that, however dismissive he was of her now, it was an emotion that would soon be overtaken by far more overwhelming ones. Perhaps, thinking about it, it was just as well that they were having this conversation somewhere noisy and crowded.
‘I’m pregnant.’
For a few seconds, Leo thought that he might have misheard her, but even as his mind was absorbing her body language—taking in the way she now couldn’t meet his eyes, the hectic flush on her cheeks, the way her hand was trembling on the glass—he still couldn’t put two and two together.
‘Come again?’ He leaned forward, straining to catch her every word. There was a buzzing in his ears that was growing louder by the second.
‘I’m having a baby, Leo. Your baby. I’m sorry. I do realise that this is probably the last thing in the world you expected to hear, and the last thing you wanted to hear, but I felt you ought to know. I did think about keeping it to myself but that would have been impossible. Well, you know how small the place is, and sooner or later Bridget would have found out. In fact, there’s no way that I would have wanted to keep it from her.’
Why wasn’t he saying anything? She had expected more of an immediate and explosive reaction, but then he was probably still in a state of shock.
‘You’re telling me that you’re having my baby.’ The words felt odd as they passed his lips. The thought had taken root now with blinding clarity and he looked down at her stomach. She was as slender as she had always been. He heard himself asking questions: how pregnant was she? Was she absolutely certain? Had it been verified by a doctor? He knew home tests existed but any test that could be done at home would always be open to error...
