Mistress: At What Price? (12 page)

So take this moment and this man, she told herself. Take the rest of tonight and make it special. Memorable.

She might possibly die of a broken heart, but his was made of stone and she'd told him so and he hadn't denied it. He'd be okay. He'd get over the shock and the anger and they'd sort everything out, and maybe they could still be friends the way they'd always been.

Friends sharing a child. That wasn't so impossible. Was it?

‘Perhaps I shouldn't have told you after all,' he murmured in his deep, husky voice, and she realised her mind had wandered off. ‘It seems to have made you sad.'

She shook her head against the pillow. ‘Make love with me,' she whispered. ‘No one ever made love with me the way you do.'

He bent his head, grazed her lips once, twice. ‘Because no one knows you the way I do.'

She wanted to tell him she loved him, right here, right now, while the moment sparkled with truth. But the only truth around here tonight was his truth. And her untold secret proved him wrong. He didn't know her as well as he thought. It spun a web of guilt around her, but when he covered her body with his she lifted her arms and gave herself up to him.

Tonight was lingering looks, slow, sweet passion, the languid glide of flesh on flesh. A lazy touch. A tender kiss. She took him inside her wordlessly and with all the love she had to give.

The lowering sun turned the room orange, his skin to bronze. His eyes were dark, almost black in the fading light, and his day's worth of stubble shadowed his jaw and rasped against her hand when she reached out to absorb, to stroke.

Dane became her only reality in a room she no longer saw. The sound of his murmurs, the thump of his heart against hers. The intoxicating scent of man. This man.

And she clung to that reality, to Dane, and in those all too short precious moments, lived that lifetime she was going to be denied.

M
ARIEL
woke first. It was full dark, and the city's twinkling lights cast a dim glow across the walls. Angry with herself for falling asleep, she turned to watch Dane. She'd wanted to stay awake and think. To lie beside him and listen to his breathing while she prepared herself to tell him.

As if he sensed she was awake, his eyes blinked open in the semi-darkness. ‘Hi.'

‘Hi.'

He moved an arm, stopped. Then pulled a silk nightgown from beneath him and dangled it in front of her with a grin. ‘What's this?'

‘Oh…' Mariel felt herself flush. ‘I…'

Damn it, she hadn't expected him back tonight, and now her secret indulgence to sleep where he slept and feel close to him was out in the open for Dane's scrutiny.

‘You slept in my bed.' It wasn't a question.

‘Yes. Is that a hanging offence?'

He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘I don't think so. Wait here.' He slid off the bed and disappeared downstairs.

He was back in less than a minute with a small swing bag. He switched on the bedside lamp, filling the room
with a soft ambience. ‘A present from Alice Springs.' The mattress dipped as he climbed back onto the bed with her.

With trembling fingers she pulled out a sexy black bra and matching thong. Her heart soared briefly, then sank as she stroked the flimsy material. How long would she be able to wear it? ‘Thank you, they're beautiful. How did you know what size?'

His eyes twinkled and he cupped a breast in his palm. ‘You think I don't know the size of your breasts by now?'

‘I guess you do. They're lovely.' He didn't suggest she model them, thank heavens, and she set them aside. The tremor in her fingers increased. ‘Dane…'

‘Mmm?' He shifted closer, nibbled her shoulder. ‘I'm hungry; how about you?'

She breathed a tremulous sigh of partial relief. Off the hook a little longer. And they needed to eat before she knuckled down and told him. ‘I could do with a cheeseburger and fries.'

His brows rose. ‘You want junk food? You never eat junk food.'

‘I do. Just not often.'

‘What was that yummy dish I smelled in the kitchen when I came home?'

‘I didn't know you were coming; there's only enough for one.'

‘We could share…'

‘We could. But you'd still be hungry. And I haven't cooked the rice yet. It'll take—'

‘Okay, okay, I get the message. Pull on some clothes and we'll do take-away.'

 

Dane wanted to take their meal and sit by the River Torrens, where it was cooler, and watch the lights reflect on the water. But Mariel didn't seem keen, so they ate at home on the sofa in front of the TV. She was giving her earlobe a workout and his unease flooded back.

When he'd finished his meal, and eaten Mariel's half-finished burger, he stuffed the cardboard containers back into the carry-bag, tossed it on the table. He shifted to a forty-five-degree angle so that he could see her properly. ‘Okay, Mariel, what's the problem?'

She bit on her lip, then lifted her chin, took a breath. ‘You're not going to like this…'

His stomach bottomed out, but he remained outwardly calm. ‘Try me.'

She heaved another breath, as if garnering courage. ‘I'm pregnant.'

His brain took a couple of seconds to process the information. It took another couple to get his tongue to work around the word he'd never imagined associated with their lives. His life. ‘Pregnant.'

His vision blurred, and the only sound he could hear was the rasp of air as it caught on his tonsils on its way to his rapidly deflating lungs. ‘Pregnant.' He blinked to clear the haze that he found himself enshrouded in and saw Mariel, pale-faced, eyes too big, too vulnerable, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

‘Yes.' She worried her bottom lip again. ‘I found out yesterday.'

Rational thought began to surface, along with denial. ‘How is that possible? I thought you were on the Pill? That's what you told me.' He heard the accusation in his own voice.

Déjà vu
. Flashback to another woman, another time. Had Mariel planned it? He shook it away immediately.

‘I
was
on the Pill…' She rubbed her arms as if cold. ‘I was due to start another packet but I never got my period. So I went to see Dr Judy at Stirling to ask her advice.'

Unable to sit, he pushed up and paced. ‘So when you told me last night that you had a bug, you were lying?'

‘I couldn't tell you that kind of news over the phone. You would
not
have wanted me to tell you over the phone. Something this important has to be said face to face.'

He acknowledged that with a stiff-necked nod. ‘So, what are your plans?'

‘
My
plans?' Her eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, that's just great. So it seems when things get too hard you're a typical irresponsible male after all. This is your baby, too, so it's
our
plans. Like it or not, this is about
us
.'

‘You're missing my intention. I'm giving
you
the option. It's your call. But you'll have my full support whatever you decide.'

She stared at him. ‘You…you…' She pushed off the sofa, all white-faced fury, and stood before him, fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides. ‘If you're thinking what I think you're thinking—'

‘You haven't a clue what I'm thinking,' he shot back. ‘How could you when I don't know what the hell I'm thinking myself?' Why did she have to look at him that way, her eyes brimming with tears and censure? ‘Oh, no… No, Mariel, I didn't mean…'

And then it hit him—a bolt from the sky, a tsunami, a super cyclone all rolled into one.

His baby.

A part of him.

Growing inside Mariel.

Adrenaline spiked through his veins and bled like fire into already tight muscles. His heart pumped so hard he thought he'd burst a valve.

Seemingly of their own volition his eyes sought and found Mariel's flat belly. Hidden beneath a lolly-pink mini-skirt…his baby.

Some insane, primitive part of him wanted to beat his chest and shout it to the ends of the earth. He dragged his eyes away and turned to stare blindly at the night-darkened window, his mind assaulted by a barrage of
what-the-hell-do-I-do-now?
scenarios.

He could feel her eyes drilling into his back. She was waiting for more from him, expecting more from him. And she
should
expect more. ‘I have to think.' Shoving his hands through his hair, he locked them behind his head as he continued to stare into the night. ‘I need to get my head around this.'

He heard the shift of fabric and a soft footfall on the polished boards. Something like panic gripped him at the thought that she'd leave without a word and, worse, that he'd allow it.

‘Mariel…' He crossed to her in four quick strides, grabbed her fingers. Her hands felt chilled, the bones fragile. He ran his thumb over them and looked into her over-bright eyes. ‘When I suggested this arrangement I thought it would help you.'

Mariel saw his pain etched in every furrow, every facial muscle, felt it echo in her heart. She knew he was in shock. That he was still a long way from dealing with the news. But he hadn't told her what she wanted to hear.
We'll get married
. Or even,
I won't leave you
or
We'll raise it together
. And why would he? They'd
never agreed to that. And now he'd be leaving not one person but two people.

Pressing her lips together, she nodded, unable to speak lest she blubber—and she didn't want to blubber and reveal how desperately needy she felt right now. How much she wanted him to hold her closer and kiss her and tell her everything was going to be all right.

But it wasn't going to be all right. Because no matter how close they were, or how much she loved him, when it came to the important ever-after stuff they were at opposite ends of the spectrum.

He squeezed her hands once, passed a whispered caress across her lips. ‘Go on to bed. You need to take care of yourself now. I'll see you in the morning.'

His kiss was as sweet as ever, and he sounded as sincere as he always did, but a chasm had opened up between them and she knew they'd ever be the same again.

 

The following morning Dane left before Mariel was awake. He might have opened the door to check on her, but she didn't hear him. She tried to focus on work. She'd need some sort of income to maintain her independence. She didn't have a clue about where she'd live, what Dane would provide—if anything—so she couldn't make plans.

You'll have my full support.
His words. But how far did that extend? she wondered. And what had he meant? Financial? Emotional?

Bringing her pregnancy out in the open with him seemed to have sparked her maternal instinct. She thought of Dane's mother, who'd left him. Did the woman not realise all she'd missed out on?

Well, Mariel didn't intend to miss out on a minute of
raising her baby. She'd always dreamed of kids of her own, a man who loved her to share the joy with. But if the father wasn't going to be around, so be it. She'd still have a little reminder of Dane that she could love for ever.

Everything was on hold, like suspended animation. She hated it, but she marked time. She had to wait. Maybe tonight. Would he come and tell her he'd decided he wanted to make a go of it?

But when he came home from the office it was eight o'clock, and she was already in bed, emotionally and physically exhausted. She heard his footsteps hesitate outside her door, then he moved on.

No. She wouldn't let herself weep for the man she loved and would walk away from. Nor was she going to wait around for him to make a decision. She had some pride left, and she refused to be a victim again.

Slipping out of bed, she opened her door. Light from his study cast a strip of light across the polished boards in the passage. Placing one foot in front of the other, she moved towards it.

His phone rang as she was about to enter.

‘Huntington.' Pause. ‘Yes. I meant to get back to you. There's—' He rolled his head back and studied the ceiling. ‘Tonight?' From behind him Mariel saw him rub his temple. ‘Okay.' He glanced at his watch. ‘Twenty minutes. Don't worry, I'll be there.'

A faint creak in the floorboards alerted him to Mariel's presence. His hand jerked—almost guiltily, she thought—then he disconnected and slipped the phone in his pocket. ‘I thought you were asleep, I didn't want to wake you.'

‘You didn't wake me. I wanted to talk.'

‘I would, but I'm sorry, now's not a good time. I've got an urgent matter I need to deal with.'

She felt her mouth go dry, felt her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth, but she managed to say, ‘Now? What's more important than our baby?'

Dane stilled, and something flickered behind the still gaze. ‘We'll talk. We will. But it's business. A client.'

‘A client.'

‘Don't do this, Mariel.' He turned away to shut down his computer, then riffled through an untidy pile of papers. ‘You'll have to trust me on this.'

Trust him?
The way she'd trusted Luc? He'd had ‘business appointments', too. She fought back tears.

He rose and, still folding whatever it was he'd been looking for, walked towards her. He tilted her chin up, gripped it between tense fingers. ‘
Do
you trust me?'

She thought of his women, his playboy lifestyle. She remembered their childhood and shared secrets, the last couple of weeks they'd spent together here in his home. Arguing, making love. She wanted to trust him. How she wanted to. He was her baby's father; nothing could change that fact. And they were bound by it for the rest of their lives.

‘Well?' he demanded. His eyes swirled with some emotion she couldn't read.

‘If we don't have trust, Dane, we have nothing.' She couldn't deny it. She couldn't deny him the chance to prove it. If she didn't, there was no future for them at all.

His shoulders relaxed as some of the tension there eased. ‘Go to bed. Get some sleep. You look like you need it.' The kiss he laid on her lips was sweet but brief.

Whether he crept in without a sound or whether she was sleeping—though she was sure she'd not slept a wink—Mariel didn't hear him come home.