The Christmas Baby's Gift

That sceptical note was back in his voice.

‘No, nothing fazes you—or no, nothing’s wrong?’

‘No—not “especially not tonight”,’ Peta quoted back at him. ‘I don’t see why you think I should be so easy in my mind about tonight.’

‘And why the hell not?’

It was clear that his grip on his temper was wearing thin. The relaxed, drawling voice was becoming rather ragged at the edges.

‘There can’t be anything to worry you about tonight.’

‘Oh, can’t there?’

‘No—it’s a happy event. You know everyone who’s going to be here—family and friends. They’re all coming to help us celebrate—’

‘And that’s just it!’ Peta broke in, unable to hold the words back any more.

The double meaning of that ‘happy event’ was more than she could bear. She knew what ‘happy event’ Liam had been anticipating by this stage in their marriage. She was supposed to be pregnant by now. It was what they had both wanted at the start. What she still wanted, but not in the way she had originally thought.

‘What’s just it?’ Liam frowned impatient confusion. ‘Peta, you’re not making any sense.’

‘Maybe that’s because none of this makes sense.’

Peta began dragging the brush through her long dark hair, the rough, abrupt movements mirroring the edginess of her thoughts. The bristles caught in a couple of tangled knots but she didn’t pause, wincing faintly as she tugged them down.

‘What the—?’

Reaching out, he caught hold of her hand, stilling the nervy gesture with a grip so strong that she could do nothing but submit to his control.

But she didn’t have to look at him. She couldn’t look at him for fear of what she might read in his face. And so she kept her own head stubbornly averted, staring fixedly down at the carpet as if fascinated by the sight of his polished black leather handmade boots planted firmly on the thick carpet.

Staking his claim again. The memory of her own thoughts earlier came unwillingly to her mind, dousing the fire of her mutiny like a bucket of cold water tossed over a leaping flame.

‘Peta, sweetheart, are you going to explain just what is going on inside that delightful head of yours? What is it that is bugging you—and why?’

That ‘sweetheart’ was just too much. He used it casually, easily, without even thinking. He didn’t mean it. Not really. It was just a word, one he dropped into conversation without a care. It was what people—outsiders—expected a husband to say to his wife.

But not this husband. Not to this wife.

And she knew he never thought about the effect it might have. That he never for one moment considered how she might feel, hearing him direct that apparently loving term at her and knowing that it had no place anywhere inside their marriage.

Because love had no part at all in this relationship between herself and Liam.

At least, it had had none at the very beginning. The arrangement was a marriage of convenience from start to finish. No emotions involved in any way. Or, rather, that was how it was supposed to have been. How it had always been on Liam’s side. And on hers at first—at the very beginning.

But not now. Now things had changed. Changed so fundamentally that she was no longer convinced that she could continue with this marriage in the way they had decided just over a year ago. She didn’t think she could continue with it in any way at all. Not unless things changed in a way that just didn’t seem possible.

She had told herself that she would do as Liam wanted. Play it his way. But it was getting so much harder with every day that passed. Because she hadn’t stuck to the guidelines, the rules they had so carefully laid out from the moment they had agreed to this marriage of convenience. Instead, she had committed the worst sin of all.

She had fallen head over heels, totally, recklessly, blindly—impossibly—irretrievably in love with this husband of convenience of hers. And that love was the last thing he wanted from her.

And the knowledge of that fact had driven her to desperate measures. For the last few months, she had been actively taking steps to make sure she didn’t conceive the baby that she knew Liam wanted, even though it had almost broken her heart to do so.

CHAPTER TWO

‘DON’T call me sweetheart! I don’t like it!’

It was the nearest she dared come to expressing the whirling thoughts in her head, the pain that was burning in her heart.

‘First I’ve heard of it—but—fine!’

The nonchalance of his answer made matters even worse, heaping coals on the fires of misery she was already struggling with.

‘Is that what’s bugging you?’

His expression made it plain that he thought she was really way over the top if she was making such a fuss about a simple word.

‘What? No, of course not.’

‘Then would you mind explaining just what is?’

The way the words were cut off, sharp, cold and clipped, left her in no doubt at all that whatever control he had had over his temper was now rapidly wearing thin. All it would take was one more hesitation, an attempt to dodge the issue, and he would lose it completely. And Liam in a temper was something she didn’t want to risk, especially not tonight.

‘It’s—it’s this party—’ she tried again.

‘What about the party?’

‘I’m not sure it’s—it’s right.’

‘Right?’

The word was clearly the last one he had expected to hear.

‘Right?’ he repeated, frowning his confusion. ‘Precisely what is wrong with it.’

‘Nothing’s wrong with the party. It’s just that I’m not sure that it’s right for us to be celebrating like this. No—listen…’ she put in hastily when he drew a swift, sharp breath in through his teeth, obviously priming himself for some sort of cutting retort. ‘It’s the first anniversary of our wedding day.’

‘A fact that I am only too well aware of.’

The black irony of his tone made her wince but she forced herself to ignore it so that she had the nerve to continue.

‘But it wasn’t exactly the sort of wedding day most people have. The sort they’d want to celebrate. Ours isn’t that type of marriage. It never was and it never will be.’

But she had dreamed that it could be, and that was the problem. She had dreamed of love and happy ever after and those dreams had been stronger even than her longing to become a mother. But it was only as the mother of his children that Liam had wanted her.

‘And yet we’ve invited all these people. My family—your grandfather—friends…’

‘They wanted to come. Besides, it’s Christmas, and everyone loves a party at Christmas.’