The Pregnancy Discovery

‘And there was no other reference to his wife’s name?’

‘No. The rest of the time he referred to “my wife” or “darling” or “sweetheart”—that kind of thing.’

Sam sighed heavily. ‘But there was definitely a will?’

‘It definitely made mention of Tom leaving all his worldly goods to his wife.’

‘Yeah, well, Fred had better hand it over soon.’ He gripped the bottle tightly with both hands for a moment, then suddenly smiled at her.

If only he would stop doing that!

‘Why don’t you forgive me for yesterday? I hear there’s a very good outdoor restaurant over in one of the other bays.’

Fighting back the wild urge to accept was like trying to put out a bushfire with a mere tumbler of water. For Pete’s sake, Sam was by far the best-looking fellow who’d ever asked Meg out. But, she had to be sensible about this. He’d be gone in a day or two. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Thanks for the invite, Sam, but I’ll have to decline.’

Before she changed her mind, she turned and walked quickly away.

Sam watched her go, a wry, admiring smile tugging his lips. When she’d rejected his invitation, she hadn’t added, I can’t trust you, but that was what she’d meant.

Of course, he couldn’t blame Meg for running. He’d given her every reason to be wary. Yesterday, she’d been totally upfront and honest with him and he hadn’t returned the compliment.

Her disdain was exactly what he deserved.

But Meg Bennet was having a strange effect on him. Just thinking about her…about her eyes…her hair…her mouth made him…restless. Was it because she was different? Because she refused to be impressed by the thing that impressed most women—his money? Because she refused to be impressed by anything about him?

His gaze dropped again to the bottle in his hands and he reminded himself that he hadn’t come to Australia looking for romance. He had a business to run and he had to get back to it as soon as possible.

By tomorrow, he’d be grateful Meg had turned him down.

Meg dropped a peach-coloured bath bomb into the warm water and watched it explode and fizz. The steam in her bathroom began to distil a sensuous mixture of citrus and flowers. Dipping her big toe into the fragrant liquid, she felt her body begin at once to relax. She visualised submerging beneath the heated, scented surface of the water.

Br-ring! Br-ring!

Heavens, no! Not the telephone! Hovering with one leg in the air, she glared at the slim, cordless machine lying on the counter next to her hand basin. She toyed with the notion of letting it ring. But, officially, she was still on duty. With an impatient sigh, she crossed the room and picked it up but, as she answered, she returned with it to the bath. There was no way she would waste that beautifully scented hot water.

‘Meg! It’s Fred Raynor,’ the voice snapped.

‘Yes, Fred?’ She lowered herself into the bath and felt the warm liquid swirl softly, seductively around her body. Fragrance drifted upwards, teasing her nostrils, enticing her to relax.

‘You’re not busy tonight are you?’

‘Oh? Not particularly.’ Meg grimaced and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. What on earth could her boss want now? Since she’d refused Sam’s invitation to dinner, she’d had an ongoing battle with her weaker self all afternoon.

That was the main reason she needed to relax now. To pamper herself after a nerve-racking, miserable day.

‘I want you to take Sam Kirby out to dinner, over at Alma Bay.’

Meg gulped. ‘I have to?’

‘Damn right you do.’ Fred snapped.

Frowning, she sat up higher out of the water. She held the phone closer to her ear. ‘Fred, you know this is way beyond the limits of my job as recreation officer.’

‘But we need to keep this guy on our side. There’s a good chance we can get national coverage out of this. He’s big time. We could even get an international story if we play our cards right.’

‘I’m sorry, Fred. I posed for your photos, but this is definitely going too far. It’s verging on sexual harassment.’

She was relieved when, after a noisy grumble, her boss rang off.

Surprised that he’d given in so easily, Meg was about to drop the phone onto the bath mat when it rang again.

‘Give up, Fred!’ she cried. ‘I am not going to dinner with Sam Kirby. Got it?’

‘I’m reading you loud and clear.’

‘Sam?’ she demanded. ‘Is that you?’

‘It is,’ came a response from the other end of the line.

‘For Pete’s sake, what do you want?’ She knew it was ridiculous, but Meg scrambled over the edge of the bath to grab at a fluffy white towel. Even talking on the phone to Sam felt dangerous when she was naked. ‘Did you get Fred to order me out to dinner with you?’

‘I won’t ruin my reputation by answering that.’ There was a pause and then he asked in a lighter tone, ‘Did I hear splashing?’

‘Er, I doubt it,’ she muttered, wrapping herself in the huge towel and perching on the side of the bath.

‘I’m sorry if I interrupted something.’

Meg wanted to be angry. She wanted to depress the disconnect button and to slip back beneath the warm and welcoming water. But the weak side of her clung to the phone, liking too much the sound of his deep voice with that musical North American twang. Besides, she was desperately curious. ‘What did you want?’

‘Actually, it was to try one more time to ask you to dinner, but without Fred’s assistance. Hey, if you were taking a bath, go right ahead. Don’t waste the water.’

‘I might just do that.’

‘By the way,’ he continued, ‘I have a very interesting scientific question.’

‘Oh?’

‘Are you near a mirror?’

‘What do you think? I’m in a bathroom.’

‘Could you look in the mirror for me and tell me what colour your eyes are when you’re not wearing clothes?’

Instinctively, Meg’s glance flashed to the mirror. But then her cheeks warmed. ‘I’ll tell you no such thing.’ She flung her towel aside and slipped back into the bath.

There was an exaggerated sigh on the other end of the line. ‘Another mystery of science remains unanswered.’

‘I guess your eyes stay blue all the time,’ she heard herself say and she wondered how that sultry, flirtatious little hum had crept into her voice.