Her Pregnancy Surprise (15 page)

Would Luc have got back with his wife if it hadn’t been for the child she was carrying? When he’d made love to her at night had he thought abut his ex-wife, had he seen her face when he’d closed his eyes in the moment of release…?

The thought that she’d been a substitute, that while he’d been with her he’d dreamed of being with someone else, was something she just couldn’t bear.

Luc was looking mystified. ‘What letter?’

‘From your…from Grace,’ she whispered.

‘I get a lot of letters from Grace.’

This was something she could have lived without knowing. Did she declare her undying love in all of them? Megan wondered.

‘Considering you’re divorced, isn’t that a little unusual.’

‘She likes to keep in touch, even though she’s remarried,’ he admitted.

His guarded manner was confirming all her worst fears. ‘She’s married to someone else now?’

‘For the time being.’

Of course, Grace was getting a divorce and she wanted to get back with Luc…who wouldn’t? she thought, sliding a covetous look over his long, lean, supremely gorgeous frame. The idea took hold and she felt physically sick. You could be prepared for the worst but when it finally came it still hurt like hell.

‘Does that mean that things are not working out for her?’
She was amazed that she could feel so totally wretched and still appear normal.

She realised that she must be faking it really well because Luc didn’t appear to have a clue that she was ready to fall apart. He was probably blind to everything else when he thought about his marvellous Grace.

‘I told her at the time that…’ His shoulders lifted in one of his expressive shrugs. ‘But that’s Gracie for you.’ The rueful tone of his voice increased the icy grip of the fingers that were squeezing her heart.

‘She’s impetuous?’

He nodded and said with feeling, ‘And then some.’

And Megan wanted to head for the nearest dark corner to lick her wounds. Instead she rubbed salt in them by imagining all the outlets for her impetuosity that
Gracie
might have found in the bedroom; or, being impetuous, she probably didn’t limit her surprises to one room. They had probably made love in every room of the house.

‘The guy’s years older than her; he’s got children older than she is.’

‘A lot of women are attracted to older men. I suppose they offer stability…?’

‘It helps if they’ve got a lot of money stashed away.’

Was he saying his ex-wife had married for money—?

‘Don’t look so shocked,
chérie
, not everyone is the hopeless romantic you are. Grace is one of ten children; she had a tough life as a kid and just when she had started to get used to having the flashy cars and the big houses it was snatched away from her. She was honest—she couldn’t be the wife of a poor man.’

Megan, who had always considered herself the most pragmatic of people, shook her head in protest. ‘I’m not a romantic.’ A romantic she might not be, but the idea of walking away from your man at a moment when he most needed a wife’s support filled her with disgust.

‘You haven’t asked me how I lost my money…?’

Well, he had plenty of money now, Megan thought. Which meant his avaricious ex was grasping and greedy.

‘It’s not my business.’

For a long moment Luc scanned her face, then with the deliberation of someone who had come to a decision he pulled out a chair and, spinning it around, straddled it. ‘Five years ago I had a successful business and a partner.’

‘Yes, you told me.’ She gave a quick uninterested smile. ‘You hated it, but you made a lot of money…and then lost it.’ This moment, the moment when Luc felt able to confide in her, could have meant something very special if she didn’t already know what he was going to say. If she hadn’t gone behind his back, to Uncle Malcolm.

‘Aren’t you curious?’

Feeling guilty as sin, she shook her head. ‘Not especially.’

‘Amazing! You really are the most incredible woman.’

His admiration made her feel worse than ever. ‘I’m not incredible at all; I’m terrible!’ she wailed, covering her eyes with a hand as she gave a self-condemnatory groan. ‘I already know about your partner running off with all the money and the man who committed suicide and how the press were hateful to you.’ Megan couldn’t look at him.

A short static silence followed her emotional confession.

‘Malcolm…?’

The question had a resigned ring to it and Megan, who had expected him to go ballistic, opened her fingers and peeked cautiously through them.

‘It wasn’t his fault.’

‘No, that I can believe. I have noticed,’ he continued drily, ‘that when you make up your mind you can be difficult to divert. In fact you can be difficult full stop.’

‘Aren’t you angry?’

One corner of his fascinating mouth lifted. ‘Do you want me to be?’

‘No, of course not, it’s just I know how you value your
privacy and I know I should have waited until you wanted to tell me.’ She bit her lip. ‘I wish I had,’ she confided huskily.

‘If it makes you feel any better, Malcolm supplied me with some information…reluctantly supplied,’ he added with a reminiscent grin.

Megan’s smooth brow puckered. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘I wanted to know a few things about the creep you almost married.’

‘Brian!’ she exclaimed, astonished by this revelation. ‘Whatever for?’

Megan watched as his white teeth bared in a smile that did not touch his eyes. ‘I was kind of curious about what you saw in him in the first place. Now I know. The man is a total creep, but a
pretty
total creep.’

Pretty…? Megan mentally compared Brian’s weak chin and average features with the man she was looking at and she laughed; she couldn’t help it.

‘What’s so funny?’ he growled.

Megan didn’t respond. ‘How do you know what Brian looks like?’

‘I happened to swing by a bar and he was there.’

Megan’s eyes widened. ‘You wanted to see him…why?’

Luc passed a hand across his forehead. ‘Why the hell do you think…?’ His attitude suggested she ought to have found the explanation obvious—she didn’t.

‘I’ve not the faintest idea,’ she told him.

‘I wanted to kick the slime ball’s teeth down his throat…’ His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. ‘He hit you,’ he gritted.

‘And you intended to do what? Hit him?’

‘It did cross my mind,’ he admitted, rubbing a hand over the stubble on his jaw.

‘But you didn’t…?’ She felt she had to check.

‘I got a case of better judgement,’ he admitted with the air of someone who regretted the decision. ‘I blame it on
my dad—he always told me I couldn’t pick on anyone smaller than me. The creep only came to my shoulder.’

Megan’s eyes dropped from his. ‘I’m glad you didn’t hit him,’ she admitted.

Luc’s expression hardened to granite.

‘Aside from the fact I really don’t need anyone to fight my battles. No big feminist statement,’ she promised, ‘just plain fact. When I said he hit me, I might have missed out the part where I hit him back…?’

Luc stared at her for a moment, then started to grin. ‘You did?’

Shamefaced, she nodded. ‘I’m not actually a violent person; it was a reflex action.’

‘Did you cause much damage?’ he asked with a hopeful expression.

‘None that I could see, but apparently the bridge work that needed repairing cost him a packet. He threatened to sue me.’

Luc threw back his head and laughed. ‘God, what a prat! You,’ he added with an approving warmth that brought a glow to her cheeks, ‘are incredible.’

‘I know…I mean,’ she added hastily, ‘I know he’s a prat. Landing the punch was more luck than good judgement,’ she admitted.

‘So now that we have both invaded each others’ privacy, I think you could say we’re quits?’

‘I suppose so.’ She looked at the hand he stretched out towards her and after a moment placed her hand in it. The contact sent a neat electric thrill through her body, which she endured with a fixed smile. As soon as it was possible—without causing offence—she removed her hand.

‘Now tell me what you read or didn’t read in Gracie’s letter that made you chuck me out of bed.’

‘I know she loves you and you love her.’

‘I don’t love her.’

‘Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you?’ she countered sadly.

The phone in Luc’s pocket began to ring.

Megan, grateful for the reprieve, watched him pull it from his pocket.

‘Don’t switch it off. It might be important.’

‘More important than my infidelity…?’ His anger made her wince.
‘Patrick,’
he snarled into the mouthpiece.

Megan tapped her toe on the floor as he began to listen. When he responded it was in rapid French. Megan tuned it out; she was quite proud of her grasp of the language, but there was no way she could follow what Luc was saying.

It was only when she heard her stepfather’s name that she began to actually listen. She caught Luc’s eye and, mouthing, Let me speak to him, held out her hand. Luc shook his head and turned his back on her.

When Luc finally hung up his expression was preoccupied.

‘Why didn’t you put me on? I wanted to talk to Jean Paul.’

Without replying he caught her hands in his and drew her towards him. His grave expression made her stomach lurch in fear.

‘N
OW
don’t panic.’

An instruction, Megan reflected, that was guaranteed to make her do exactly that.

‘Is it Mum?’ Unconsciously her hands went flat to her own belly.

Luc nodded. The compassion in his eyes made her spirits plummet; people didn’t look like that when they were about to give you good news.

‘The baby…?’

‘Your mother is in hospital. They’re performing an emergency Caesarean.’

The blood seeped out of her face leaving her skin marble-pale. ‘How is she? This is my fault…I should have told her that she was too old to have a baby, but I encouraged her.’

‘Cut that out right now!’

His bracing tone made her blink. Dazed, Megan looked from the hands encircling her wrists to his stern dark face.

‘This isn’t anyone’s
fault
and certainly not yours. Laura had every test going; she was given a clean bill.’ Megan reluctantly nodded. ‘And even if her age was a factor, which we don’t know, this was not your call; it was hers and Jean Paul’s. You did what you had to; you supported her decision.’

Megan’s eyes remained on his face, then after a few tense moments she nodded.

‘So you’re not going to go all hair-shirty on me?’

Megan exhaled deeply and shook her head again. ‘No, what…what happened? Did Jean Paul say?’

‘Something to do with the placenta. Jean Paul was…unclear.’ The Frenchman had actually sounded as though he
was in shock. ‘She began to bleed, apparently.’ He didn’t mention the pain that the distraught Jean Paul had graphically described.

Luc wished he hadn’t said as much as he had when Megan literally swayed.

‘Come on, now, you shouldn’t upset yourself.’

‘Don’t upset myself? My mother is bleeding to death!’ Her voice rose to a shrill, scornful crescendo.

‘She isn’t…she’ll be fine,’ he said, hoping like hell he was telling the truth. ‘And Jean Paul will ring the moment she gets out of surgery…or they know something. In the meantime we should be positive.’

‘Know something…?’
With a distrustful frown she homed in on his comment. ‘What do you mean,
know something
?’ Her eyes narrowed into suspicious, accusing slits on his face. ‘You mean if she dies, don’t you?’ She pulled her hands from his clasp and let out a wail that made the hairs on his nape stand on end. ‘They think Mum’s going to die and you’re not telling me everything. I know you’re not.’

‘I swear I am.’

‘Then why didn’t you let me speak to Jean Paul?’

Her breath coming in short, frantic gasps, her eyes darted around the room. She reminded Luc of a cornered wild animal.

‘He doesn’t know any more than I’m telling you, Megan.’

In the midst of her heart-wrenching anguish Megan experienced a sudden icy calm and sense of purpose. She knew exactly what she had to do. She explained it to Luc.

‘I have to go to Paris.’

‘Megan, you’re thirty-seven weeks pregnant; you can’t travel.’ Luc’s expression was compassionate, but his tone was inflexible.

‘I’m not asking your permission; I’m telling you what’s going to happen.’

‘Calm down, Megan, you’re not thinking straight.’

‘You don’t understand,’ she accused, backing away from
him. ‘I
have
to. She needs me.’ Her shoulder blades made contact with the wall and she leaned back against it, glad of the support.

‘How do you intend getting to Paris?’

She looked at him blankly.

‘You’re not thinking straight, Megan.’

‘If I catch the next flight…I could be there by…’

He shook his head slowly from side to side. ‘They won’t let you fly.’

Megan glared at him, leaking self-control from every pore. Why was he making this difficult? ‘I’ll
make
them. I’ll say I’m only twenty…’ how pregnant could you be before they wouldn’t let you fly? ‘…something weeks.’

‘And even if they would permit it, I wouldn’t let you go.’

She looked at him for a moment with real loathing. At some level she was aware that she was being totally irrational but she couldn’t stop. ‘God, but I hate you!’

Luc flinched as though she had struck him, but not a muscle in his face moved.

‘We can discuss your feelings for me at a later date.’

‘I don’t want to discuss anything with you. I want to see my mother.’

‘Listen, I know you’re scared and you want to be with your mother, but she has Jean Paul. He’s her husband; it’s his job to be with her. Your first concern has to be your own health and that of our baby.’

God, he was right! She knew he was
right.
Megan caught her trembling lower lip between her teeth. The antagonism in her eyes faded as their eyes meshed.

‘She’s so far away…’ She closed her eyes, silent tears sliding down her cheeks.

Luc was at her side in a heartbeat. He stroked her hair; his expression was so tender that the trickle of tears became a flood. ‘I know,’ he crooned, drawing her close.

With a cry Megan collapsed weakly against him, her body shaking with sobs.

Luc had never felt more helpless in his life.

Long after her tears had abated Megan remained where she was in the protective circle of his arms seeking comfort from his strength, the warmth of his hard body, the familiarity of his scent.

It was the sound of the phone ringing that made her break away. She looked at the phone in his hand, her eyes wide and fearful.

‘You all right?’

She nodded and even managed a watery smile. ‘Go ahead, answer it,’ she said, brushing the hair from her damp face with the back of her hand. ‘I’ll be fine, promise.’

Luc nodded and lifted the phone. After a moment he covered the receiver. ‘She’s out of surgery and she’s fine,’ he told her, grinning from ear to ear.

Megan experienced a rush of relief so intense it made her head spin. Weakly she leaned against the wall. ‘Thank God!’

‘Are you all right?’ Luc asked, half listening to the relieved husband’s emotional and extremely loud outpouring in his ear.

Megan dug deep into her reserves to give him the ghost of a smile, oblivious to the fact that, far from reassuring him, it scared the hell out of him. When she closed her eyes tight and began to shake, visibly shake, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and crossed the floor to her side in two strides.

He fell onto his knees beside her chair and framed her face in his hands.

‘I th…thought…’ Her eyes, so big and so intensely blue that he still got a shock every time he looked into them, flickered open.

Luc smoothed the hair from her eyes and pulled her head onto his shoulder. ‘I know what you thought,’ he said quietly. ‘Don’t try and talk, just give yourself a minute; you’ve had a terrible shock.’

For once Megan didn’t resent his fussing. ‘I’m sorry I yelled at you.’

‘Forget it.’

‘And I’m really glad you’re here.’ Her eyes lifted to his. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been here.’

Something flickered at the back of Luc’s eyes. ‘I’ll always be here for you, Megan.’

He’ll always be here for the baby, she sadly translated. ‘I know you will.’

Her eyes suddenly snapped open. Arms pressed against his chest, she pulled upright.
‘The baby…?’
she asked fearfully.

‘The baby…?’
he repeated blankly. Then his eyes widened. ‘Oh, the
baby.
Fine, a little small so they’re keeping it in an incubator.’

‘
It?
Is it a boy or girl?’ Because of her age her mum had had an amnio, but she hadn’t wanted to know the baby’s sex. Megan didn’t think she could have shown the same restraint if she had been offered the same opportunity.

‘Almost definitely.’

‘No, seriously.’

‘I’m not sure…Jean Paul might have said before I hung up on him.’

The outrageous admission made her stare. ‘You hung up on Jean Paul!’ she gasped. ‘How could you? I have to know if I’ve got a brother or sister.’

‘What’s the hurry? It’ll be the same sex in the morning.’

‘Only a man would say anything that stupid,’ she told him. ‘I’ll ring. Give me your phone…’ Without waiting for him to comply she reached inside the breast pocket of his shirt where she could see the outline of his mobile.

‘It won’t do you any good ringing. Jean Paul’s phone will be switched off now…it is a hospital.’

‘You’re probably right.’ Megan, who in the last few seconds had realised that the niggly back pain she had had all
morning was actually something more, gave a distracted smile.

Everything she had learnt in antenatal class had gone! Her mind was a total blank.

‘I was simply prioritising.’

‘What could possibly be more important?’

He stilled. What the hell was important to him? Not long ago he wouldn’t have had to think about it. It had been doing what he wanted when he wanted.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked, concerned by the dazed expression that had settled on his lean features.

His eyes focused on her face. His life if he had never met Megan—no drama, no epic battles of will, no spending frustrated nights reading his way through the library.

Megan who had strained to catch his soft reply, shook her head. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’

‘You.’
This time Luc’s voice was not soft, it was firm and resonant.

He had experienced one of those rare moments in life when all the pieces slotted into place. It wasn’t a gentle voyage of self-discovery, more a kick in the pants.

A kick that Luc thought he deserved for taking this long to see something that would have been so obvious! He loved Megan, and loving her wasn’t going to change because they got old or were separated. Megan wasn’t Grace and he wasn’t the kid he had been when he had got married. He needed this woman, without her his life was empty.

He exhaled, then said it again and said with more confidence, ‘You, you’re the most important thing in my life.’

He means the baby, she told herself, so don’t say anything stupid. Their eyes met and she said it anyway.

‘If this is your way of saying you have feelings for me, you have very bad timing…’ she told him huskily. ‘In fact,’ she added grimly, ‘it’s probably the worst timing possible.’

‘It feels like a good time to me,’ Luc rasped. Unable to resist the temptation of her white smooth neck, he pressed
his lips to the pulse spot at the base of her throat. Megan felt his tongue and mouth move up her throat and sank her fingers into his dark hair.

‘Luc…?’

‘Uh-huh,’ he said, not stopping the lovely things he was doing.

‘I think we should stop.’

His head lifted. ‘If you’re worried about making love, don’t be. There’s more to making love and giving pleasure than penetrative sex. There’s touching and tasting and…’

She shook her head. At any other time his frank explanation would have given her a case of terminal embarrassment, or more likely pleasure, but she was beyond that now.

She leaned backwards. ‘No, Luc, I’m serious. We have to go.’

Her urgency finally seemed to register with him. ‘Go where?’

‘To the hospital.’

It took several seconds for her meaning to sink in; when it did he froze. ‘Are you saying…?’

She nodded. ‘I think…actually,’ she confided, ‘I’m pretty sure I’m in labour. I’ve had this funny feeling all day and a backache and just now I…’ She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, I’m definitely in labour.’

‘You’re going to have the baby?’ Despite his flat level tone there was an undercurrent of panic in his voice that irrationally made Megan feel much calmer.

‘Well not here and now…I hope.’ The last vestige of colour fled his face and Megan added hastily. ‘Only joking.’

‘Don’t,’ he pleaded with feeling.

‘I think a sense of humour is going to be essential.’

‘Let me think,’ Luc said, pressing his hands to his head as if to speed up the process. ‘I’ll call an ambulance. Don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine.’

‘Or you could drive me…?’ she inserted gently.

‘God, yes, of course!’ he exclaimed. ‘Right, let’s go. Can you walk?’

‘In a minute,’ Megan said, grabbing onto the nearest object, which happened to be Luc, to wait for the contraction to pass.

‘Breathe.’

‘I am breathing,’ Megan panted.

He had absolutely no recall of driving to the hospital, but he must have because they had got there.

‘Don’t they realise that this is an emergency?’ he seethed. ‘This is a hospital—you’d think they’d be able to find a damn wheelchair.’

Megan laid a hand on his sleeve and begged him to sit down and not shout.

‘I wasn’t shouting. I just don’t want our baby to be born in a damned hospital waiting room.’

‘Neither do I. They know what they’re doing, Luc, and I’m not the first woman to have a baby,’ Megan pointed out, looking amused.

Luc subsided into the chair beside her looking frustrated. ‘How can you be so calm?’

He asked the same question several times during the next few hours. She was so focused and so brave that he got choked up just thinking about it.

‘I’ll never call women the weaker sex again,’ Luc said as he stroked the hair from Megan’s damp forehead.

Megan lifted her eyes from the face of their sleeping daughter—a tiny, perfect miracle and she was theirs. The sense of awe she felt was overwhelming.

‘I want lots of babies!’ she announced suddenly. ‘Lots and lots.’

Luc lost his colour and looked at her as though she had lost her mind. ‘How can you say that after what you’ve just been through?’ he asked her.

‘Yes, but look what I got at the end of it,’ Megan, who seemed to have miraculously forgotten the pushing and pain, gloated joyously.

‘Your wife actually had a very easy labour considering this was her first,’ the midwife told him.

‘Easy!’
Luc exclaimed. ‘She was incredible,’ he retorted indignantly.

The midwife smiled indulgently. ‘Of course she was.’

‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’

Luc glanced down and saw Megan was looking at him. ‘Me!’ he exclaimed. ‘I didn’t do anything.’ It had been the inability to help that had been the worst aspect of the entire experience.

Megan looked astonished. ‘You were incredible,’ she retorted. ‘I definitely couldn’t have done it without you,’ she added firmly. ‘You kept me focused.’