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

‘We could have visitation rights, to be decided as we go.’

He was joking?

He wasn’t.

He’d plotted her future. She’d sit and write and care for their baby. Logan money would launch her book, which he’d organise to be published. Her book. Even her fantasy would be his. She’d be Mary Logan, author, promoted by the resources of the Logan empire. She’d live in New York and she’d have a nanny.

And she’d have a husband—with visitation rights to be decided as we go.

She was feeling just a little bit sick.

Actually, now she came to think about it, she felt a lot sick. Her body was taking over from her mind.

Ben must be able to see it. ‘What’s wrong?’ he said sharply, but she waved him back.

‘Just baby,’ she said. ‘Making its presence felt.’ It’s telling me what it thinks of your stupid proposition, she thought, but she didn’t say it out loud. Her gorgeous day was spoiled.

He’d thrown her a sensible proposition to keep two loners staying as such. Why did it make her feel old and grey and ill? More and more ill.

‘Leave me be for a moment,’ she told him.

‘Mary...’

‘Leave me be.’

She had no choice. She could no longer face him.

She disappeared into the woods as fast as physical necessity dictated.

* * *

His first impulse was to follow. She was ill. She shouldn’t be alone.

But, then, being alone was her right. Being alone was what his proposition was all about.

Except it wasn’t. She’d be his wife. He’d be responsible for her—and for his child.

It freaked him out a bit, but he’d get used to the idea. He wouldn’t get close enough to hurt them.

There was the rub. He’d been brought up in a household where sentimentality was exploited to ruthless effect. You protected yourself any way possible. You didn’t get fond of nannies because they left—in fact, his father had come into his bedroom one night and found his nanny giving the twins a hug goodnight and the next day she was gone.

‘I won’t have any woman making my sons soft.’

There had been no softness in their house. His father had protected himself with his money and his power. His mother had manipulated him with emotion. She’d protected herself with her acting, and Jake had learned to do the same.

The one night his mother’s acting had become reality, when he hadn’t seen the difference, she’d died.

In time Ben had developed his own armour. He wasn’t ruthless like his father. He didn’t act. He simply held himself to himself.

The sight of Mary, shocked and ill, twisted something inside that hurt, but he knew that pushing to get closer wouldn’t help. He’d help Mary practically but if she learned to rely on him emotionally he’d let her down.

He didn’t know not to.

Raising a child... What had she said? You don’t have to stand above and pull.

He didn’t have a clue about child-raising. He only knew that he couldn’t bear the thought of Mary going back to New Zealand.

Of Mary not having his resources available to her.

Of Mary being alone?

She was alone now.

She was ill. She wouldn’t want him. She was a loner, just like he was.

So he forced himself to wait, packing the picnic gear, loading the kayak, making sure the site showed no traces of their stay. That’s why he loved this place. He made no impression on it. It stood as it had stood for centuries, a place of solitude and peace.

It was a place where a man could be totally alone.

Except he wasn’t alone now. Mary, was only yards away, being ill—because she was carrying his child.

Enough. The catering company who’d provided their lunch had provided napkins. He soaked a couple in the clear river water, and went to find her. He met her at the edge of the clearing. Whatever had happened was over. She looked wan and shaken and that same twist of his heart happened all over again.

He wanted to take her into his arms. He wanted to take her into his heart.

He didn’t know how to.

For some reason he kept thinking of the night his nanny had been fired. Maggie was a loud, boisterous Australian. She’d bounced into their lives and she’d kept up with all the devilry he and Jake had thrown at her and more. For a while their lives had been fun.

Had he loved her? Maybe he’d started to, but one hug and she was gone.

He remembered his mother saying, ‘Keep your emotions to yourselves, boys. I’m tired of interviewing nannies.’ That was good, coming from his mother.

But if he fell for Mary...

Enough. He was putting neither of them at risk. Instead of hugging her, he proffered the napkins. Practical-R-Us.

‘Thank you,’ she said dully. ‘And thank you for the proposal. It was well meant but I don’t want it.’

‘Why not?’

The question hung. She looked at him, just looked, and it was as if she was seeing everything he had to offer—and found it wanting.

‘Because I’m not alone by choice,’ she snapped. ‘Because I love my community. I love my job and my roller-derby team and my dog. I love them. You don’t get that, Ben, because you don’t understand what love is, but I understand it. You’re offering me a part of your world but that involves loneliness forever.’

She softened then, and the look she gave him was one of sympathy. Sympathy! No one offered Ben Logan sympathy but there it was.