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‘Yes, but...’ She stared at him. ‘That really isn’t the reason I came here.’
‘So why did you come?’
With her sex still aching from the intensity of their lovemaking, her breasts tender from the pinch of his fingers, and emotion coursing through her system, the answer didn’t come as easily as it had when she had been lying in that fold-down bed across the Atlantic.
‘To get to know you,’ she murmured. ‘To find out if you want to be a dad. How involved you want to be. I don’t want sex to complicate that.’
‘To complicate it?’ He chuckled. ‘The way I see it, sex is pretty much the only simple thing there is about all this. And we’re good at it.’ He shrugged, his gaze flicking to her midriff. ‘We’re going to have to work on the other stuff, because I don’t have any easy answers for you there.’
For a moment he looked lost, and the lump of emotion became impossible to swallow down. Was she pushing him too hard, expecting too much, by being here?
‘You don’t know how you feel about the baby?’ she asked, feeling foolish and a little ashamed of her naivety. Why had she been so quick to assume his decision to invite her here meant he must already have feelings for the baby? He’d been thrown into this situation against his will. Of course he’d be confused, maybe even a little resentful.
‘Not really.’ He flopped back on the bed, stared at the canopy above their heads. ‘All I know is I don’t want to mess up, like my old man did.’
She turned to him, ready to probe a little. ‘How did your father mess up?’
His gaze locked with hers and for a moment she thought she saw something, but then
it flicked away again. ‘By not being there, I guess. I never met him. It was just my mom and me.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Her heart sank at the defensive ‘don’t go there’ tone. And the news that he had been abandoned as a child by his own father. No wonder he’d reacted so violently to the news of her pregnancy. Had the horror she’d thought she’d seen been nothing more than blind panic?
She touched his forearm. ‘You’re not like that. If that’s what you’re worried about? Because you’re already trying to do the right thing.’
He looked at where her fingers touched his arm, then up at her face, his expression blank now and unreadable. ‘You always this much of an optimist?’
His tone was flat, but she refused to let it bother her.
‘I try to be,’ she said, smiling. ‘I don’t consider that a bad thing.’
She wanted this child; he was still coming to terms with the fact of it. She had to remember that. Give him time. And space. And not give up hope. His cynicism made complete sense, now she’d had that brief glimpse into his childhood.
‘So, what was your mother like?’ she asked.
He shook his head, smiling back at her. ‘Forget it, Little Miss Sunshine. How about you tell me something about your folks, first? I don’t see why I have to do all the talking.’
He’d hardly told her anything, she thought, but she didn’t call him on it. Surely telling him more about herself could only increase the intimacy between them, and make it easier for him to open up too?
‘Okay, well...’ She paused, his question triggering memories of a time in her life that she barely remembered now, but had been so painful once. ‘Funnily enough, I think it was watching my parents and seeing what they went through that made me an optimist.’
‘How come?’
‘Because they had an incredibly acrimonious divorce when I was eight.’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘And that made you an optimist?’
‘Well, yes. Because it taught me how important second chances are,’ she continued, choosing to ignore the sceptical expression. ‘They’d tried to stay together for me and my brother and it had been a disaster. Children always see more than you think.’ She sighed, remembering the whisper arguments, the bitter silences, the terror and confusion when she and her brother had been told Daddy would be moving out. ‘I missed my dad terribly and it was awful to see my mum so sad and angry all the time. But then, eventually, they both found the people they were meant to be with. And I ended up with a stepmum who makes to-die-for chocolate cake and a stepdad who drove me and Ruby to cookery fairs without complaint. It totally transformed them both, made them much better people and much better parents. Because they were finally happy.’
He rolled onto his side, and suddenly she became aware of his nakedness, and hers, and the low-level hum of arousal that always seemed to be there. He placed a warm palm on her hip, slid it up to cup her breast. ‘That’s sweet,’ he said, the comment only mildly condescending. Then he ducked his head, to lick a pouting nipple. ‘But not as sweet as you are. You know, your breasts look incredible. Have they got bigger?’
Right, it seemed their deep and meaningful conversation appeared to be over. She knew a distraction technique when she heard one—and felt it hardening against her hip.
‘Yes, they have...’
He leant down and sucked at the tip of her breast, gently, provocatively.
‘The obstetrician says it’s to do with the pregnancy hormones,’ she continued, trying to focus despite the glorious feel of her nipple swelling against his tongue. ‘They’re much more sensitive too.’
