The Package Deal: Nine Months to Change His Life / From Neighbours...to Newlyweds? / The Bonus Mum

And once again she got what he was thinking. ‘I did not plan this,’ she said evenly.

‘How do I know?’

‘What, lie on an island and wait for a stud to be washed up? Hope to be pregnant? Why?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘You also have no idea how this pregnancy will affect my family,’ she said, in that soft, even voice that he was growing to trust. ‘They’ll hate me. They’ve been forced to back down in their accusations. Now I’ll turn up pregnant when my sister’s just lost her baby. They’ll tell me I’m rubbing their faces in it. It’ll hurt. This isn’t all roses, Ben.’

‘But did you want it?’

‘No,’ she said, and she said it in such a way that he believed her. ‘To be honest, I’ve avoided relationships. My father’s...desertion gutted me, and I’ve always thought if I can’t trust my dad, who can I trust? Like you, my family background doesn’t leave me aching to copy it. But now...maybe you’re right in one sense. Even though I didn’t set you up, I’m welcoming this baby. Somehow the night of the storm changed things for me. I do want it.’

‘Despite you not being in a position to afford it.’

‘I can afford it. I didn’t come here for money. Set up a trust or something for the baby if you want, but I want nothing.’

Nothing.

He thought of all he had here. A financial empire. An apartment overlooking Central Park. Any material thing he could possibly desire.

What would happen if he lost everything?

He’d have trees, grass, sky. Right now they felt okay.

It might get draughty in winter, he conceded, and he looked at Mary and he thought she’d just build a willow cabin or find a cave. She was a survivor and she didn’t complain. She’d care for this baby.

And suddenly he felt...jealous? That was weird, he conceded, but there it was. He was jealous of an unborn child—because it’d have a mother like Mary.

‘How’s the book going?’ he asked, feeling disoriented, trying to get things back on track, though he wasn’t sure where the track was.

He saw her flinch.

‘You don’t have to tell me.’

She thought about it. ‘That’s okay,’ she conceded. ‘Maybe I have to open up a bit there, too. It’s always been my private escape, my writing. If I’m to have this baby then I need to share.’

‘So...share?’ The request felt huge, he thought. It was only about a book, he reminded himself. Nothing else. ‘Is it proceeding?’ he asked.

‘It is.’ He could see her make a conscious effort to relax. ‘In your fictional life you’ve been drinking weird, smoky cocktails with three slutty sisters, squeezing them for information, and all of a sudden they’ve transformed themselves into dragons. Very gruesome it is, and rather hot, but you’re handling yourself nicely.’

‘A true hero?’

‘You’d better believe it.’

‘Will you try for publication?’

‘A million authors are striving for publication. What makes you think anyone would like my book?’

‘I like it.’

‘That’s ’cos you’re the hero. I’ll send you a copy when I’ve worked out my happy ever after.’

‘Happy ever after works in books?’

‘You have to believe in it somewhere.’

A cloud drifted over the sun. A shadow crossed Mary’s face and she shivered. Enough. He rose and put down a hand to help her up.

She stared at it for a moment as if she was considering whether to take it. Whether she should.

‘You need to let me help a little,’ he said gently. ‘I’d like to.’

‘I’d like to help, too,’ she said. ‘Where’s Jake?’

‘Still in New Zealand, winding up his movie.’

‘Would you like me to talk to him?’

‘No.’

‘That’s not very polite.’

‘Families are complicated.

‘You don’t need to tell me that.’ She ignored his hand and pushed herself to her feet, wincing a little as she did.

‘You’re hurt?’ The tiny flash of pain did something to him. She was pregnant. What did he know about pregnancy? Surely she shouldn’t have flown. What if there were complications? What if...?

‘Twenty-four hours squashed in a tin can is enough to make anyone achy,’ she said. ‘So let’s get that “Call the artillery and have me carted off to Emergency” look off your face.’

‘Am I that obvious?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re sure you’re okay?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where are you staying?’

She told him and he struggled to keep his face still. Not a salubrious district. Cheap.

This was the mother of his child.

No. This was Mary.

‘I’ll take you home,’ he said.