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‘You used condoms.’ Still she couldn’t quite believe his readiness to accept the news.
Another shrug. The movement of those powerful shoulders tugged a thread of desire deep inside until it hummed. She made herself look away to the green space beyond the window.
‘Accidents happen,’ he murmured.
Bess swung around to face him again, her voice rising. ‘I don’t understand how you’re so calm about this. You didn’t want children. The few times I raised the possibility you made it clear they didn’t feature in your plans.’
She knew how important Jack’s plans were. He lived his life by them.
His face took on that closed look with which she was so familiar. The expression that said he didn’t want to go there and she should back off. Like when she’d asked about his past and his family.
She was tired of backing off from subjects he didn’t want to discuss.
‘You’re right, I never wanted children.’ He uttered the words with devastating simplicity and she found herself rigid in her seat. ‘But now there is a child. Or, all being well, there will be. You can’t expect me to ignore that.’
Yet she had. Or at least she’d wondered whether his response to her news would be to ignore it.
‘Do you want to keep the baby?’ he asked.
Bess stiffened. She saw his gaze drop to her abdomen and looked down to discover she’d pressed her palm there in a protective gesture as old as motherhood. She was still struggling to get her head around the news of her pregnancy and grappling with the implications, but her instinctive response was obvious.
‘I do.’
It would be easier to raise a child in a committed, loving relationship but life wasn’t always convenient. She’d learned that when at just fifteen she’d lost her mother. She’d discovered then that life was precious and nothing, especially future opportunities, should be taken for granted.
‘Good.’
Just that one word.
Bess tried and failed to read his thoughts. He sounded as enthused as if she’d told him it would be fine tomorrow for a picnic they’d planned.
Except Jack didn’t do anything as low-key as picnics.
Unless it was part of the plan to entice you back into his bed.
There’d been one memorable Caribbean picnic where they’d swum and feasted on seafood and fresh fruit before Jack had made love to her so tenderly that he’d brought tears to her eyes.
She shook her head, trying to clear it and concentrate on this vital discussion. Was it pregnancy hormones that made it hard to think clearly? Or Jack, sitting so close yet still so frustratingly unreadable?
‘I’m surprised you think it good news that I’m keeping the baby. Our marriage is over and you’re not interested in a child and—’
‘Don’t jump to conclusions. Just because I didn’t want to have children doesn’t mean I don’t care when there’s going to be a child. There’s a big difference between theory and reality.’
Bess noticed he didn’t argue about their marriage being over. That was a good thing, she told herself, that he accepted that.
So why didn’t it feel like a positive?
‘What form does this interest of yours take?’ Was she being shrewish, interrogating him as if he were in the wrong? Jack wasn’t her favourite person but this pregnancy wasn’t his fault. It had been an accident. Yet she couldn’t drop the combative attitude.
Because it helps you keep your distance.
Because, despite everything, you’d give so much for him to hold you close one last time, your head against his chest and those strong arms around you, making you feel that everything is going to turn out okay.
Bess blinked. Where had that weakness come from? Because, with her mother gone, there was no-one truly close with whom to share the excitement and fear of this moment? Even her dear cousin Freya couldn’t fill that gap.
Jack leaned in, hands clasped and elbows resting on his splayed thighs. A twitch of his forehead hinted at the suspicion of a frown.
‘I’m going to be a father. That’s the form my interest takes.’ She heard it now, an undercurrent of feeling. Something she couldn’t identify yet it was real and strong. ‘I intend to be there for our child, like any good father.’
