Pregnant: Father Wanted

Lyssa sat forward as they drove through a shady pine wood. ‘This is nice.’

The hotel itself was a three-storey white building, well away from the road, with arched windows opening onto wrought-iron balconies.

The beautiful young woman behind the reception desk greeted Ric with a smile. ‘We’ve been expecting you,’ she said.

Lyssa made a point of smiling at her, just to check whether she was invisible. She might as well have been for all the notice the receptionist took of her. With a resigned shrug she turned away to look around the small, elegant hotel with its ceramic-tiled floors and thick white walls. Who could blame the girl for ogling Ric? She’d had to stop herself doing the same thing—and she wasn’t interested in him as a man, only as a tour guide.

Ric joined her and they made arrangements to meet later for dinner before heading off to their respective rooms.

Lyssa’s high-ceilinged room had a bright blue bedspread, tubs of red pelargoniums on the balcony and a view through the pine trees to the sea. With a satisfied sigh, she sat on the edge of the bed.

It had been a busy first day and her energy level was waning. She was tempted to lie down for a while, but she’d learned her lesson. There was no such thing as a brief doze now that she was pregnant. Once her head hit the pillow she’d be out for the count.

It would make more sense to jump straight into the shower and take her time freshening up before dinner. That would definitely make her feel better.

She’d packed a few simple non-crushable dresses, her standard wardrobe for evening wear while travelling, so she pulled one out of the suitcase and took it into the bathroom with her.

After the shower, she took the time to straighten all the kinks out of her hair, then applied the makeup she hadn’t had time for that morning. Finally, she slipped the simple leaf-green dress over her head and stood in front of the mirror as the slinky fabric slithered over her hips.

Not bad. She’d already gained a little weight. Not enough for anyone to guess she was pregnant—and to be honest, it was probably due more to her hefty appetite than anything else. The dress wasn’t tight, but it did accentuate her curves.

She shrugged as she stepped into her only pair of high heels. It wasn’t as if she was trying to impress Ric, but she did feel an irrational need to show him she could look her age—and she knew she did tonight.

The look on Ric’s face as she walked into the restaurant told her he was impressed, and she felt a thrill despite her denial.

He was silent as he pulled out a chair for her and she caught his eye. ‘How old do I look now?’

He gave her a lopsided, one-dimpled smile. ‘Ancient.’

With a laugh, she took a sip of the iced water that was waiting for her on the table. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

He nodded slowly as he sat down, and his eyes glittered as they drifted over her again.

Suddenly unsettled by his slow appraisal, she changed the subject and kept the conversation light while she ate the best potato gnocchi she’d ever tasted, then salad, cheeses and a simple gelato for dessert.

By the time she parted from Ric and made her way to her room, she was relaxed and happy. Certainly more relaxed and happier than she’d been for a long time.

Since she’d shared the news of her pregnancy with Steve.

Since she’d learned that at the time she needed him most, he wanted nothing to do with her.

She firmly pushed thoughts of Steve out of her mind. He was history. He had no part in her life now and she refused to waste precious time thinking about him.

She didn’t want to think about how she was going to manage on her own either. For now, it was almost as if she’d entered an alternate reality, one where she didn’t have to worry about the future, where she didn’t have to look any further forward than the next day.

CHAPTER THREE

REMEMBERING how Lyssa had enjoyed her food the day before, Ric ordered breakfast for both of them, a feast of fruit, yoghurt, cheese, ham, bread rolls and sweet cakes. Then he sat back with his espresso to wait for Lyssa to come downstairs, surprised at how much he was looking forward to seeing her again.

It wasn’t that he was attracted to her—although he had to admit he’d almost been knocked off his feet when she’d walked into the restaurant for dinner in her sexy dress—it was because she was fun to be with, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such simple, innocent fun with a female, the last time he’d teased, laughed and shared a joke with a woman. If ever.

She’d made him realise how rusty he was at having a platonic relationship. Almost all his relationships with the opposite sex involved just that—sex. But Lyssa didn’t want any more from him than what he had to offer right now: his knowledge, protection and company—actually, she probably didn’t want his protection, but she would have it whether she wanted it or not.

And she wasn’t like the women he was used to. Not cynical, jaded or bored with life. There was a freshness about her that appealed to him. It did him good just to be around her positive energy.

He’d been having a miserable time lately. It was true that he was recovering from a knee operation as he’d told Lyssa, but it was more than that—he had a decision to make. One that would affect his future, his whole life. Spending time with Lyssa had already made him forget his problems for one day, and he liked the idea of forgetting them for a while longer.

Doing this favour for his uncle could be just what he needed to take his mind off his problems. They’d still be there when it was finished, but at least he’d have a brief respite from thinking about them.

Just then Lyssa entered the room and he forgot about everything as he put down his cup to stand and meet her. She was again wearing her jeans and trainers and another baggy pink T-shirt that made her look like a teenager and hid the very grown-up curves he knew were underneath.

He thrust away the image of her in the clingy dress that had shown off just how womanly she was. He didn’t want to feel a physical attraction for her. She wasn’t his type and he didn’t need her to be. It was enough that he found her interesting and enjoyed her company.

‘Good morning. Did you sleep well?’

She beamed a smile at him. ‘Like the proverbial log.’ Then as she dropped her gaze to the table, her eyes lit up. ‘Wow, this looks great.’

‘We can’t have you starting the day without breakfast again, can we?’

‘No, I completely agree.’

As they ate, they discussed Ric’s proposed itinerary—a leisurely drive along the coast, visiting Palinuro, Maratea and other places along the way, and arriving in Vietri sul Mare in time for lunch.

‘Sounds perfect,’ Lyssa said as she polished off the last of the cakes, ‘and not just because you mentioned lunch.’

Ric laughed, watching her brush cake crumbs from her clothes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had breakfast with a woman that didn’t consist of coffee, gossip and not much else. Lyssa was like a breath of fresh air. ‘Well, if you’ve finished here, we’ll make a start, shall we?’

‘Sure.’

The same receptionist was on duty as they checked out and Lyssa was tempted to tell the girl she was making a fool of herself smiling flirtatiously at Ric. But she kept quiet. It was none of her business and, for all she knew, Ric might plan to visit the hotel at a later date to take advantage of what the girl was clearly offering.

But he hardly seemed to notice the attention he was receiving and definitely wasn’t flirting in return. Which was surprising, given the girl’s exotic looks and obvious interest.

Settling back in the Lamborghini, Lyssa pulled a notepad and pen from her handbag to make notes on the trip so far. She’d deliberately left her laptop at home, not wanting to be distracted from the details of the trip by emails and so on.

This was the way she preferred to work, keeping copious notes as she went and typing them all up when she got home. It helped her to get her feelings down on paper—they seemed to flow from her fingers through her pen onto the page. Later she’d spend time finding the right words to convey those feelings to her readers. It might seem old-fashioned to some but it was her process and she had no intention of changing it.

Ric glanced across as he drove away from the hotel. ‘What’s the verdict? Are you going to write a favourable article?’

She chuckled. ‘You’ll have to wait and see. It’s far too early to say—you might blot your copybook yet.’

In truth, she was a great believer in early impressions and she couldn’t really imagine Ric doing anything to spoil the very favourable impression she’d gained so far. But who knew?

She slid a surreptitious glance at him. He’d forgone the suit today in favour of faded jeans and a dark blue polo shirt—probably a designer label but she wouldn’t know the difference. All she knew was that he looked incredible.

She’d hoped, she’d really hoped that the flare of attraction she’d felt the day before would have dissipated overnight, and that the flutters she’d felt were just shock at his resemblance to the man of her dreams. But on the contrary she felt an intense awareness of his masculinity, of his muscular footballer’s legs working the pedals, his strong arms on the steering wheel. And it was so annoying. It was not what she wanted to feel at all.

With deliberate movements, she dropped the pad and pen into her bag and asked Ric about the region they were driving through. By the time they arrived in Vietri sul Mare, renowned for its many ceramic factories and shops specialising in colourful creations of clay, she felt quite the expert.