‘The only fail-safe form of contraception is abstinence—we’ve not been very abstemious.’
Greedy, she decided, was a more accurate description; the thought brought an unwelcome reminder of the fact that some things hadn’t changed. She still felt greedy. She lowered her eyes self-consciously before the scorching recognition surfaced in her eyes.
‘And these days a testing kit can tell you if you’re pregnant when you’re hours late.’
‘I wouldn’t know.’
‘I have friends who were desperate to get pregnant. Tom could have written a consumer column on kits that tell you when you should or shouldn’t and others that tell you when you are or aren’t. Or did you just know? Some women do.’
‘Stop it!’ she yelled, placing her hands firmly over her ears. ‘I’m not pregnant! Your father was lying.’
‘He can, and does, but why would he lie now? And why this lie? What would he have to gain?’
At last! Here was her opportunity to explain. ‘He thinks if I get pregnant you won’t leave the firm and you won’t leave the country.’ Even to her own ears the idea sounded preposterous.
‘Is that the best you can do, Rachel? Why would he think that? I can’t think of a better place in the world than the Creek to bring up a child.’
She would like to be watching when Benedict revealed this to his father. It wouldn’t make up for what he’d done, but it would certainly help! Despite all his father’s underhand tactics Benedict still had no intention of continuing with his legal career! At any other time the irony might have made her smile.
‘Charlie will love it too,’ Benedict continued persuasively. ‘After we’re married…’
‘Married?’ she echoed hollowly.
‘I’ve no desire to be a part-time father, Rachel.’ He looked at her as if he were stating the obvious and sank his fingers into the dark hair above a forehead pleated in a deep frown.
The gesture was implicitly weary; she could almost see him physically push aside the fatigue as his hand fell away. She had to do the same with the warm, mushy feelings that made her a push-over where he was concerned. He’s tough, girl; he doesn’t need you to mop his tired brow! she told herself.
‘What happened to the “include me in your plans, Rachel”?’ she enquired pointedly. ‘Suddenly it seems as if I don’t have any say in the matter.’
‘Not a pleasant feeling, is it?’ His resentment seemed momentarily overridden by concern as he examined her pale face. ‘For God’s sake, woman, sit down before you fall down.’
‘Will you stop that? I don’t want to sit down!’ she snapped as he all but manhandled her into an oak carver chair she’d inherited from her aunt. Her hands curved around the smooth, worn wood of the arms; the solid familiarity was strangely comforting.
‘You have to look after yourself,’ he said gruffly, backing off.
This, she realised, was Benedict’s version of the kid-glove treatment. She ignored the wistful sigh somewhere in the back of her mind. If this were for real it might be quite nice to be cherished by Ben Arden. The idea of carrying his child for real was dangerously seductive. Ever since his father had planted the germ of the idea she hadn’t been able to stop imagining.
‘I’m not ill!’
‘Pregnancy isn’t an illness,’ he agreed gravely. ‘Did you have an easy time with Charlie—any problems? I saw the scar.’
She started. Recalling the circumstances in which he’d noticed the almost invisible scar made her stomach muscles clench. Trying to cover her tingling breasts would only draw attention to the effect his casual words had had.
Though she didn’t know why she was bothering; Ben had obviously already lost interest in her in that way. Naturally she’d been relieved when he hadn’t continued to pursue her and Sabrina, by all accounts, was helping him fill his social calendar. Now she was nothing more than an incubator!
‘I had a Caesarean.’ Serve him right if she did treat him to the nitty-gritty.
‘Does that mean that—?’ he began uncooperatively, displaying much less embarrassment than she was feeling with the topic.
‘I’m not pregnant, Ben,’ she breathed, with an exasperated sigh. Much more of this and she was going to start believing it too!
‘If you had a tough time I can understand why you want to deny it, but this is happening, Rachel.’
‘I don’t want your understanding! You’re going to feel really stupid when you realise I’m telling the truth,’ she said, not without relish.
‘My God!’ he said suddenly, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. ‘You’re not thinking of abortion, are you? Because I have to tell you… No, you couldn’t do that.’ Just as she was getting ready to throw something large and painful at him his expression cleared. ‘You wouldn’t.’ His sudden supreme confidence brought a lump of emotion to her throat.