Accidental Baby Page 2

  Liam’s eyes only left her face long enough to flicker briefly in his father’s direction. ‘I’d say my child is my concern, wouldn’t you?’

  The instant’s silence was deafening and then suddenly everyone began talking at once.

  ‘I’m going to be a grandmother again,’ Maggie said faintly, sinking into a chair.

  Jessie’s eyes were sparkling with interest. ‘I knew they shared everything but I didn’t know they shared that too!’ she whooped. ‘It gives a whole new meaning to “joined at the hip”.’

  ‘Jessica! That’s enough,’ her father barked.

  ‘Is this true, Liam?’ Pat asked slowly, shaking his head in disbelief.

  ‘Ask Jo,’ Liam replied, his ice-blue eyes daring her to contradict him.

  ‘I’ll never forgive you for this as long as I live!’ she declared passionately.

  ‘That might not be very long,’ he shot back equally grimly.

  Maggie surged to her feet and clapped her hands together. ‘I’m so happy,’ she declared, tears pouring unchecked down her cheeks. ‘I always knew you two were meant for each other.’ She enfolded Jo in a warm embrace. ‘You two, at last. A grandmother, I can’t believe it.’

  ‘I’m having some difficulty adapting to it myself, Mother.’ He shot Jo a baleful look over Maggie’s shoulder.

  Maggie released Jo only to clasp her son to her maternal bosom. ‘When are you getting married?’ she sniffed.

  ‘Married?’ Riding on the crest of his righteous anger, this question brought Liam down to earth with a bang, and Jo could hear the crash. The hypocritical pig, she fumed.

  ‘Yes, Liam,’ she asked innocently, ‘when are you going to make an honest woman of me?’

  ‘A wedding!’ Jessie squeaked, forgetting for a moment her teenage cool and general lack of interest. ‘Can I be bridesmaid?’

  ‘I think Jo and I need to discuss these things in private.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you’re very big on private now, aren’t you? Pity you didn’t think of that earlier. We don’t need to discuss anything, Liam Rafferty, because I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth!’ she concluded with enough passion to compensate for lack of originality. ‘This is my baby. I’m sorry, Aunt Maggie,’ she said as the older woman burst into tears again. ‘Now look what you’ve done!’ she shouted, turning on Liam. ‘It’s all your fault!’

  ‘Don’t think I’m not aware of that fact.’

  Jo’s head came up with a snap. ‘I knew it!’ she said with grim satisfaction. ‘I just knew you’d say that. Well, let me tell you, Liam, the last thing I need at the moment is a speech about your shortcomings. I’m not interested in talking about liability or blame. I want this baby, not because it’s my responsibility, but because. . . because I love it!’ She clamped her hand over her trembling lips as her shaking voice became totally suspended by tears.

  ‘Oh, God, Jo.’ The anger died from Liam’s face leaving a conflict of emotions in its place. ‘Can we use the study, Dad?’

  ‘Of course, son. Just you go gently, or you’ll have me to answer to,’ Pat rumbled stiffly.

  Anger flashed in his son’s eyes. ‘What do you think I am?’ Pat lifted one eloquent eyebrow and Liam grated his teeth. ‘I get the message. Will you talk to me, Jo?’

  Her chin came up to a defiant angle and she glared at him through a sheen of unshed tears. ‘If I must,’ she muttered ungraciously.

  Liam walked straight to the bureau in the study and reached for the half-empty bottle of his father’s favourite malt. ‘Want one?’ he asked. He paused, glass mid-air. ‘I forgot. . . ’ His eyes touched her middle and he visibly flinched.

  ‘Are you going to get drunk?’

  ‘It hadn’t occurred to me, but now you mention it. . . ’

  ‘Well, if you’re going to be flippant,’ she snapped defensively.

  ‘Flippant,’ he said, draining the shallow layer of amber liquid on the bottom of the glass, ‘is the last thing I feel. Why the hell didn’t you tell me, Jo? You wrote to me about everything else: work, the new wallpaper in your bathroom, your latest cookery class. I suppose it didn’t occur to you I might be interested to learn I’m about to be a father.’

  She winced at the sarcasm in his voice. ‘You seem very sure it’s yours. Sure enough to announce it to our joint families,’ she reminded him bitterly.

  There was a slash of colour across the slope of his sharply defined cheek-bones as he spoke. ‘I shouldn’t have done that,’ he acknowledged reluctantly, ‘but to say it was a shock might be the understatement of the century. As for it not being mine, the only other candidate I know of is Justin Wood, and the man isn’t capable of making that sort of mistake. He’s got the spontaneity of a computer.’

  His sneering evaluation made her blood boil. ‘Pardon me if I don’t share your disdain for caution under the circumstances.’

  Liam’s head went back as though she’d struck him. ‘I don’t make a habit of acting so recklessly,’ he grated from between clenched teeth.

  Jo gave a sigh; this was getting them nowhere. ‘I know that, Liam,’ she said, wiping the back of her hand across her brow and feeling the light sheen of perspiration there. ‘Will you stop pacing? It’s making me dizzy.’

  He was acting like a caged animal and that was probably what he felt like. Maybe one day Liam would reach the point in his life when he wanted to think about families and stability, but this wasn’t that point. I don’t want an unwilling captive, Liam, she wanted to say.

  ‘I’m the father.’ His blue eyes didn’t waver from hers as he sat down beside her on the old leather chesterfield.

  She nodded solemnly and willed the emotional tears not to fall. ‘Don’t do that,’ she pleaded, wincing as the flexed joints of his interlocked fingers snapped. He looked at her blankly. ‘You’ll get arthritis.’ She reached out and touched his hand.

  A faint movement of his lips disturbed the solemnity of his expression as he regarded her small hand against his darker skin. ‘Sounds like an old wives’ tale rather than scientific fact to me, Jo.’

  ‘Don’t knock old wives, they knew a thing or two.’ He turned his hands and her own were sandwiched between his. She looked up, startled. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Liam.’ The words came pouring out. ‘I wanted to, but it’s not the sort of thing you can add as a postscript to a letter, is it?’ Her eyes begged his understanding of the situation she’d found herself in. ‘What could you have done? There’s no way I would have had an abortion. Whichever way you look at it this is my problem, not yours.’

  Her first instinct had been to call him. All she’d wanted was his arms around her, his telling her it would be all right, as he’d done innumerable times at crisis points in the past. It hadn’t really mattered that it wouldn’t be true this time. Liam was the person she always ran to when she was in trouble. It had taken a lot of self-control not to pick up the phone or, better still, catch the first plane.

  The transitory softening of Liam’s features was replaced by hard anger as she announced her view of the situation. ‘And do you think I’d have asked you to have an abortion? Is that the sort of man you think I am, Jo?’ He shook his head slowly in disbelief.

  ‘It was never an option so it doesn’t really matter what I think,’ she faltered under the weight of his anger.

  ‘It sure as hell matters to me!’

  ‘Liam, you’re hurting me.’

  Liam looked down and was surprised to see her small, delicate hand still ruthlessly crushed between his fingers. ‘Sorry.’ He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling steeply, as he released her. ‘I won’t let you shut me out, Jo.’

  ‘Whatever made you think I’d try?’ she responded immediately. ‘Of course this is your child, and he or she will know it, and know you, Liam. My friendship with you has always been one of the most important things in my life,’ she said, her voice husky with emotion. ‘But we have to be practical. We didn’t plan this. You didn’t want to become a father,
at least not to my child.’ The pain was sharp, and it went surprisingly deep, but she continued in a composed voice.

  ‘I know we can’t pretend it didn’t happen any more, but equally we can’t pretend we’re suddenly in love.’ She gave a sad smile. ‘Even if it would make your mother a deliriously happy woman. I’m not trying to sideline you at all, Liam, only it’s not your body that’s involved in all this.’ She placed a protective hand over her belly. ‘There’s a limit to what you can do.’

  Despite all these flawlessly logical arguments, Liam found himself unexpectedly assailed by a nagging sense of dissatisfaction. ‘You can’t do it all alone.’

  Jo shrugged. ‘People do, and with a lot less family support than I have.’

  ‘What about after the. . . after the. . . ?’

  ‘Birth?’ she suggested. She watched him shake his head as though the idea still seemed incredible to him. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said kindly, ‘you’ll get used to the idea.’ Liam shot her a strange look. ‘I did,’ she continued. ‘I’m healthy and there’s no reason I can’t work right up to the last minute. Afterwards I’ve arranged to share a nanny—a three-way split, really, with friends of mine.’

  ‘You’ve really got this all worked out, haven’t you?’ He was looking at her as if he’d never actually seen her before.

  ‘Burying my head in the sand was never an option, Liam.’

  ‘Didn’t it occur to you I might want to help with the baby, afterwards?’

  ‘You?’ Laughter was a welcome release really from all the tension. ‘S. . . sorry—’ she hiccoughed ‘—we’ve got to be realistic here, Liam. Your lifestyle isn’t exactly conducive to child-rearing. You can’t just transport a baby around like hand baggage; there’s a bit more to it than that.’

  ‘I’m aware of that.’

  ‘All right, there’s no need to get huffy. One day you’ll meet someone you’ll want to have a baby with. Maybe I will too.’ It could be that paragon did exist somewhere.

  ‘You’ve become an expert on the subject suddenly, then?’ he snarled rather unpleasantly.

  ‘I’ve read a lot.’

  ‘Ah, read,’ he drawled sarcastically. ‘My sister had read a lot,’ he recalled. ‘She threw her library in the bin when Liam was six months. Babies trash plans.’

  Trust him to zero in on her unspoken doubts and fears. ‘I’m flexible.’

  ‘Flexible enough to hold down a job that gives you the social life of a nun?’ he enquired sceptically. ‘Isn’t it this year they promised you a partnership? Wasn’t that why you lost the inestimable Justin? You couldn’t spare enough time to polish his ego, how the hell are you going to look after a baby?’

  ‘Well, even nuns have nights off—I’ve got some fairly conclusive proof of that!’

  Liam’s eyes closed and he struck his forehead with his clenched fist. ‘Oh, Jo, what have I done to you? Your career, your plans. I know how hard you’ve worked.’

  ‘I was there too, remember.’ Passive she had not been.

  ‘Yes, as a matter of fact I do.’

  Under the relentless scrutiny of his direct, unblinking gaze she found her throat closing as simultaneously her limbs grew heavy and totally uncooperative. At least I’m sitting down—falling in a heap would have given rise to unhealthy speculation.

  ‘There’s no point crying over spilt milk,’ she concluded with painfully false cheerfulness.

  ‘A novel euphemism.’

  ‘There’s no need to be snide and clever, Liam. We made a mistake, that’s what it all boils down to. I’m not going to let this baby suffer for that.’

  ‘A mistake.’ She couldn’t understand the bitterness in his deep voice.

  ‘Well, it wasn’t as if we intended such a tangible result of our. . . our. . . ’ She chewed on her lower lip and evinced a sudden and deep interest in the ugly print of a pheasant on the wall behind his head.

  ‘Words fail me too,’ he said, unexpectedly coming to her aid. ‘And that’s a problem I don’t normally have,’ he admitted frankly.

  ‘No, you always have had a lot to say for yourself,’ she agreed huskily. Could it be that Liam had been less successful than she’d imagined at wiping out the memory?

  ‘How did your dad take it, Jo?’

  ‘He thinks this wouldn’t have happened if Mum had still been alive.’ She sighed as a frown formed on her smooth brow. ‘It seems everyone feels responsible for me. I’m not stupid, I’ve thought about the difficulties of combining a career with being a single parent, but the bottom line is you and everyone else will have to abide by my decisions, Liam.’

  ‘This doesn’t have to be a battle, Jo.’ Uneasily she saw that his expression suggested he’d be prepared to participate if that was what it took.

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ she said wistfully. That had been before she’d witnessed firsthand his reaction to the news. Given his head, Liam would take the whole affair out of her hands, and she wasn’t going to have that!

  ‘I just want to support you.’ The scepticism on her face made his teeth jar together. ‘You’re not alone now.’

  ‘I don’t think Suzanna would be happy hearing you say that.’

  ‘Suzanna?’

  ‘The same Suzanna your letters have been full of for the last month.’ A female that perfect could not have slipped his mind so suddenly. They’d always discussed their partners quite frankly, and it had never bothered her before that he’d had a lot more to discuss than she had, but then she’d never been pregnant before, which probably accounted for the intense dislike she felt for this unknown paragon of womanly virtues.

  ‘Oh, that Suzanna.’

  The self-conscious flush probably meant it was serious. I’m glad for him, she decided virtuously. ‘It might complicate matters if she knows you’re a prospective father,’ she remarked drily.

  ‘Hell, Jo, I still can’t believe it,’ Liam said hoarsely.

  Jo observed his slightly unfocused expression with sympathy. ‘It takes time,’ she admitted. He looked as though he was still in shock, and she could readily relate to that.

  ‘Are you well? I mean, is everything all right?’ His eyes went to the non-existent bulge of her stomach.

  ‘I’m not very big, am I?’ She sighed. ‘But the doctor says things are progressing normally.’

  ‘I meant how are you?’

  ‘I’m still throwing up, and I seem to need fourteen hours’ sleep a night. But other than that. . . ’

  ‘God, no wonder Dad and Uncle Bill looked at me like I’d just crawled out from under a stone.’

  ‘I expect your reputation as a moral crusader can stand it.’

  Liam gritted his teeth. ‘I’m not talking about my reputation. I’m thinking about what you’ve been through alone!’ he billowed. ‘What is it with you? Why are you determined to paint me as some lightweight incapable of accepting responsibility?’

  ‘Blame it on my hormones—I do. They got me into this mess so I might as well get some mileage out of them,’ she quipped a bit nervously. He was taking this even more badly than she’d anticipated.

  ‘I got you into this mess, as my father and yours will no doubt point out.’

  She frowned. ‘I hope you’re not going to suggest anything stupid like getting married,’ she said suspiciously. ‘I’m prepared to make a lot of sacrifices for this baby, but there are limitations!’

  There was a pause as Liam looked at her with a peculiar expression in his eyes. ‘In some quarters I’m considered quite a catch,’ he responded finally.

  She gave a relieved laugh—at least he hadn’t totally lost his sense of humour. ‘Yes, but I know you a lot better than they do,’ she pointed out reasonably. ‘I’m so glad you’re going to be sensible.’

  ‘Sensible?’ he said in an odd voice. ‘Because I’m not proposing to you?’

  ‘That would be disastrous, wouldn’t it?’ She wrinkled up her small nose. ‘I know platonic marriages based on friendship are meant to work very well, but I wan
t a bit of. . . fire in mine. If I ever have one.’

  ‘Well, I hope you’re not relying on Justin Wood to supply the spark, Jo, because I’d say he’s the flame-resistant type.’ Unaccountably he looked extremely angry.

  ‘I don’t know what you’ve got against Justin,’ she responded crossly.

  ‘And I don’t know what you see in him! Never have done. I don’t know what you’re defending him for—he’s the one who gave you the push after. . . how long did this passionate affair go on for?’

  ‘You’re well aware I went out with Justin for two years. How would you like it if I criticised your girlfriends?’

  ‘And I suppose it wasn’t criticism when you suggested Tania’s figure owed more to silicone than nature?’

  ‘Which one was she? I forget. I know some people might say you lack staying power, but I—’

  ‘You have the tongue of a viper.’ The reluctant smile died from his face as he slipped off the sofa and knelt down beside her. ‘This is one situation you can’t joke yourself out of, Jo.’ He caught her hands firmly within his. ‘You feel like ice,’ he observed with a frown as he began to rub her fingers to restore circulation. ‘I think we’ve got to come to some sort of formal arrangement concerning the baby.’

  ‘Why does it have to be formal?’ For a minute there when he’d gone down on his knees she’d thought. . . ! Ridiculous. Liam wouldn’t be stupid enough to even suggest it. She had seen the way he’d reacted when his mother had mentioned the word ‘marriage’. His horror at the very thought had been apparent in that unguarded moment.

  ‘The idea of my child being brought up by a Justin clone makes my blood run cold,’ he said frankly.

  Jo pulled her hands free of his crossly. ‘The implication being, you don’t trust me to put the interests of my child first.’

  ‘Our child,’ he reminded her.

  Jo gave a frustrated sigh. ‘I wish I’d never told you.’ Life was complicated enough already without having a possessive father to contend with. The fact that what he said made sense didn’t help at all.

  ‘You didn’t!’ he reminded her, and she flushed under his ironic gaze and then went very pale. ‘I don’t want to pressure you.’ Unexpectedly he took her face in his hands. For a second she thought he was going to kiss her; his eyes were certainly lingering overlong on the full curve of her mouth. Her heart was thudding so loud he could probably feel the vibrations. ‘I’ll even break it to Mum there won’t be wedding bells.’ With a lopsided smile he released her.