The Fatherhood Affair

Years ago?

Her mind whirled. That couldn’t be right. She stared at him, looking for some waver in his steadfast gaze. There was none. The grey eyes had more than caring concern in them. They poured a message straight into her bewildered mind. I’m here for you. I’ll look after you. I’m the rock for you to lean on.

‘How old am I?’ she asked, feeling that he knew. She should know, too.

‘Twenty-eight,’ he said without hesitation.

He squeezed her hand hard—or did she squeeze his? Twelve years lost! She had been sixteen when she had taken that fall in the gym. What had she done with her life since then? She remembered her ambition to become an artist, as well as a great gymnast. She suspected she hadn’t been much good at either.

‘What kind of work do I do?’ she asked, feeling an urgent need to fill in the gaps.

‘You’re very creative. You do graphic design on a computer. At the present moment, you’ve signed a contract to illustrate a children’s book.’

‘I must be good at it, then,’ she said in surprise.

‘Your work is stunning.’

The admiration in his voice gave her a deep sense of pleasure.

‘Keep telling her everything that will prompt recall,’ the doctor encouraged. ‘The patient is doing fine. I’ll leave you to it.’ He gave Natalie a smile, Damien a man-to-man nod, and made a brisk departure.

The doctor’s confidence was comforting. Natalie did her best to relax. She rolled the name ‘Damien’ around in her mind, trying to find echoes of it to patch together into a meaningful picture.

Nothing.

Yet his hand and eyes said she belonged with him, and the feeling he evoked in her suggested the same thing. She looked at him wonderingly. She was twenty-eight. He looked to be in his mid-thirties. What precisely was their connection?

‘How long have you been my lover?’

His eyes were unflinching, steely, unrelenting. ‘Many years. But in all that time we never made love physically.’

‘Why not?’

‘You were married.’

Another shock! ‘Who was I married to?’

‘A man named Brett. Brett Hayes.’

His eyes were searching hers.

She looked away, disconcerted at not remembering. How could she possibly forget a husband? And a lover! She glanced down at her left hand. No rings. The hospital staff might have taken them off. She stared at her ring finger. The golden tan of her skin was unbroken by a pale band. She couldn’t have worn her wedding-rings.

‘Am I divorced?’

‘No. Widowed.’

She felt a glimmering of memory...something coming back...something important. Her heart filled with a rush of maternal love and pride. She swung her gaze to Damien, feeling a sense of triumph. ‘I have a son. A beautiful boy.’

He nodded gravely. ‘His name was Ryan.’

‘Where is he now?’ she cried eagerly. ‘Why isn’t he here?’

It was Damien’s turn to be discomfited. He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, transmitting his healing warmth and a deep caring. Then he looked at her with a sad compassion that chilled the warmth. ‘I’m sorry, Natalie. There was another accident a year ago. Ryan was...killed.’

As soon as he said it, she knew it was true. The happiness drained out of her heart, leaving an aching, senseless void. Her beautiful boy was gone. Like the years he had occupied in her life.

Damien must have seen or felt her distress. ‘That’s why you want to have another child,’ he said, the intensity in his voice drawing her attention back to him.

‘Do I?’ she asked listlessly.

‘Yes. More than anything else,’ he asserted. ‘And I want very much to be the father of that child.’

His passion poured into the empty spaces inside her and stirred a consideration of the future. She didn’t understand how he was her lover, yet they still hadn’t made love together. He looked a very virile man. It must be she who was holding back for some reason.

Damien’s fingers grazed longingly over hers, wanting a response from her, not demanding, but she could feel the wanting reaching into her, finding a deep chord of harmony that assured her he was speaking the truth.

She didn’t know why, but the thought of this man being her lover felt...familiar. A sense of rightness, of contentment, swept through Natalie. Yes, she did want another child. And what better man could she choose as the father? Most women would gladly line up to have such a man as their mate.

‘We’re not married,’ she half-queried.

‘I don’t think you wish to marry again.’

‘Why not?’

‘Your first marriage...’ He hesitated. She could see it pained him to talk about it. He shook his head. ‘It wasn’t all you wanted it to be, Natalie.’

So that was the problem. She was wary of commitment. It wasn’t exactly fair on Damien to load him with the damage caused by another man. If he had loved her for years, he had been waiting a long time for her acceptance. She should know...

‘Chandler,’ she said. ‘You’re Damien Chandler.’

‘That’s right.’

‘And I’m Natalie Arnott.’

‘Before you were married you were Natalie Arnott.’

Whatever had happened in her marriage was over, Natalie thought. Damien must be more important to her now. She had remembered his name.

‘Thank you for being a nice and very patient lover, Damien,’ she said warmly. ‘Thank you for...for looking after me.’

His smile irradiated sunshine. ‘I’d do anything for you, Natalie.’

She sighed, deeply moved by his devotion to her. The talking had made her very tired. Her eyelids closed of their own weight. She could feel the light tingling of his strong hands. It forged a bond of trust.

‘I like your touch,’ she reaffirmed.

Of one thing she was certain. Whatever she had been like before the accident, her instincts had been very good at choosing a lover.