Baby's On The Way!: Bound by a Baby Bump / Expecting the Prince's Baby / The Pregnant Witness

‘To feel safe, you said.’

She nodded, wondering how she could explain, where to start.

‘When I was fourteen, my parents left me home alone while they went out. It wasn’t anything special, just cinema and dinner, I think. I’d gone to bed, but woke up when I heard a noise from my dad’s study. I went downstairs and disturbed a burglar.’

Leo had stopped on the sand, and turned to face her. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, his face lined with genuine concern. ‘That must have been awful for you.’

‘I got a nasty bump to the head—he lashed out as he tried to get away—but I recovered pretty quickly. Not that you would have believed that if you’d listened to my parents.’

She dropped to her bottom in the sand, shielding her eyes from the sun and looking out over the water.

‘They blamed themselves,’ she explained. ‘Thought that they never should have left me, that I’d been in huge amounts of danger and that I’d been lucky to survive.’

‘They must have been so relieved that you hadn’t been more seriously hurt.’

She shook her head, trying not to get drawn back into the suffocating anxiety her parents had forced on her.

‘It never felt that way. They spent so much time concentrating on all the terrible things that could have happened, it got harder and harder to remember.’ She fell quiet as she watched the waves, and glanced up a couple of times, following the path of the seagulls above the water. The sand was warm beneath her thighs, and she turned her face to the sun, letting the rays soak into her skin. Because she’d still not got to the difficult bit.

It had never occurred to her before that her planning might be a problem. That her need to know when and how the events in her life would unfold had become something that held her back, rather than helped her. It wasn’t until she’d seen the revulsion in Leo’s face when he’d glimpsed her plan that she’d realised how others might see her, how far from ‘normal’ her life had become. But it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought about it. Even when that person was the father of her child, because she didn’t know how to live any differently.

‘I understand it must have been a difficult time...’ Leo had dropped to the sand beside her, looking out over the water, as she was, so she didn’t have to worry about his intensely blue eyes following every emotion that fluttered across her face. She wanted him to understand, because she wanted, needed, them to be friends. So she fought away the instinct to hide what had happened next, to protect herself and her family, by skirting around the behaviour that had locked them all into their fears.

‘It was, but what happened next was harder.’ It was the first time she’d admitted that. That the love and care that her parents had shown her in the weeks after the burglary had been more difficult to cope with than the initial trauma.

‘My parents wouldn’t let me out of the house.’ She really hadn’t meant for that to sound so dramatic. And she knew from the way that Leo had turned sharply to look at her that he’d misunderstood. ‘They didn’t lock me in or anything,’ she clarified quickly, imagining a bevy of policemen or social workers or other officials turning up on her parents’ doorstep and accusing them of crimes they’d never committed. ‘They were just worried about me, and they liked to know where I was. They became anxious if I was out of the house too long, so I was never allowed to friends’ houses or after-school clubs—I didn’t really have any hobbies outside of home.’

‘I still don’t see what this has to do with the plan you presented this morning,’ Leo said. His voice was soft, and his hand twitched in the sand, as if he wanted to reach for her. For a moment, she wished that he would. That he would thread his fingers with hers. Somehow she thought that it might be easier, to draw on his strength, to face her past together. Ridiculous, she told herself. They had only known each other a few weeks. Had really spent only a few waking hours together. There was no reason she should feel stronger just for having him there. But she couldn’t deny how that twitch of his hand had affected her, how much she wished for the contact.

‘I’ll get to it, I will. It’s just all tied up with everything else. I don’t know how to tell you just that, if you see what I mean.’ She turned to look at him and he nodded. ‘I was still in school, they at least thought that I could be safe there, but I could see how much I was missing. I was losing touch with my friends, having to go straight home every night while they were meeting in parks and shopping centres and fast-food places. I was lonely, and I knew that things couldn’t carry on as they were, with me speaking to no one outside school but my parents. So I negotiated a system. I would be allowed out with my classmates and friends if I provided my parents with a schedule of where I would be and when. They would have the landline numbers of anywhere I would be so that they could call and check I was really there. I had a mobile as well, of course, so that they could always get hold of me.

‘If I was going out at the weekend, I’d plot out exactly what I’d be doing and when, give the itinerary to my parents, and then stick to it like my life depended on it. If they called and I wasn’t where I was supposed to be, I knew that all hell could break loose. It wasn’t just that they’d ground me—I knew that they would be terrified. And much as I didn’t agree with the way they were wrapping me in cotton wool, I knew that they were only doing it because they loved me. Everything they did was because they were terrified of me getting hurt and they only wanted the best for me. I would never do anything that would upset them. They’d been through enough. Or felt that they had, at least. I didn’t want to add to it.’

‘So how long did it take?’

She looked at Leo in confusion.

‘How long did what take?’

‘Until it rubbed off. Until you started to believe that the schedule kept you safe, the same way your parents did.’

She started a little, surprised that he’d understood so clearly.

‘Well, my friends all thought it was a little odd, that I had to be where I had to be and exactly on time. But when I was living at home, it wasn’t easy to see where my parents’ need ended and mine started. It wasn’t until I went to university full of ideas of living on the edge, of being spontaneous and pleasing no one but myself, that I realised that I needed the schedule as much as they had.’

‘Leaving home. I guess that was hard on you all.’

‘It was. Painfully so. I had no idea before I left just how hard it would be. I’d known all along that it would be for them. But I could also see how strong the apron strings were, how they would get harder to break as I got older. So I managed to convince them that I had to have a normal life. And I was eighteen—there was nothing much they could do about it anyway. I think perhaps they worried that if they didn’t let me go, I’d take myself off and they might lose contact with me. If I went with their blessing, I was more likely to keep in touch.’

‘So how was it?’ Leo’s voice was still low, gentle, but probing. Encouraging her to share, leaving her nowhere to hide her secrets.

She let out a long, slow breath as she remembered those first few weeks, when she’d clung to her class schedule and the fresher’s week itinerary as if they were a lifeline.

‘Hard. Really hard. I didn’t know anyone, and my teen years had been pretty sheltered. The only way I knew how to cope with the confusion, the novelty of it all, was to make a plan and stick to it. So I mapped out the weeks and the months. Looked ahead to the career that I wanted and the life that I wanted, and started filling in the days in my calendar. Fast forward a decade or so, and here I am, right on track. Or was, until...’

‘Until you met me.’

She nodded, but something about the familiar intimacy in his voice, the hint of remembered laughter, made her smile.

‘So your first instinct was to make a new plan. You need it.’

‘I...I do,’ she admitted. ‘It seemed the only way to make sense of this whole situation. But seeing it through your eyes, it’s clear I need it a little too much, that there are times when going with the flow or being more flexible can have their place. But it’s not something I can just turn off. And trust me, I’ve never felt more like I need a plan than I have this week.’

‘So we’ll work something out together. Enough of a plan for you to feel comfortable and enough flexibility that it doesn’t feel like a prison to me.’ His voice sounded rough, low, and she looked up to catch the concern on his face, mixed with a distance she hadn’t felt from him before. He shook his head, and when he looked back at her his expression was lighter, sunnier.

‘When do we start?’

He laughed, and leant back on his arms, one of them nudging slightly behind her back. ‘How about not right this minute? If we say we’ll make a start today, is that enough of a plan for now?’

‘It’ll do.’ She grinned.

‘Good, because I’m starving, and I’m guessing after your spell in the bathroom you could use a big portion of fish and chips. What do you say?’

‘I say you’re a mind-reader. Where’s good?’

Leo pushed to his feet and reached down to help her up. As she felt her hand disappear between his huge, roughened palms, her body shuddered. Pulled to her feet, she realised that—without her heels—Leo towered over her. He’d pulled her up to him, and now she was probably standing a little too close. She should take a step back, she thought. But seeing Leo here, there was something hypnotising about it. Until now, she’d only ever seen him in her world: her party, her flat, her work. Here, by his home, surrounded by the beach and the sea that he loved so much, it added an extra dimension of sexy. It brought out the gold shining in his hair, made his slightly wind-chapped cheeks more attractive, like a good wine bringing out the flavours in food.

The wind had caught her hair, and was playing it around her temples, tickling at her face. She was reaching up to tame it when Leo caught it and tucked it behind her ear. His hand rested there, and for a moment Rachel was more than tempted to turn her face into his palm, to press her skin against his, to re-find the pleasure of that night. But she held her breath and stepped away. There was too much at risk; she could get too hurt. They needed to be friends and there was no surer way to ruin a friendship than a disastrous romance.

His eyes lingered on hers for a moment as she moved back, and his expression told her he knew exactly what she had felt between them just now, told her exactly what had been on offer, had she wanted it. And that he knew she’d deliberately stepped back from it.

CHAPTER SEVEN (#u3ec29d86-2a96-533f-8baf-44201965afb9)

LEO SAT LISTENING to the kettle coming to the boil, wondering whether he should wake Rachel. After a long walk down the beach yesterday afternoon, and a portion of fish and chips for dinner, she’d crashed almost as soon as they’d arrived back at the house. And had been asleep more than twelve hours. He wondered whether she’d been working too hard. Weren’t pregnant women meant to take things easy? Perhaps she’d been overdoing it. Should he say something?

But what right did he have to even ask her that? Did the fact that she was carrying his child give him a right to question what she was doing? He shook his head. There were still so many things they hadn’t discussed. But discussing meant deciding. And deciding meant getting it in writing, laminating and deviating only on the point of death.

He made a coffee and decided to leave her. She’d wake when she was ready. And maybe he could subtly ask her later whether she thought she should be taking things easier. He really needed to know more about pregnancy, about babies. He’d never given any thought to starting a family; it had always seemed a distant, uncertain thing. And he’d never imagined he’d be facing it with someone he barely knew. Perhaps he could ask his mum these questions. He’d have to tell her. And his dad, too.

He gave a shudder as he acknowledged what he’d been trying to ignore since he’d first found out about the baby. He’d have to see his family. His brother. He’d avoided him for years, had barely seen him since he’d left school. He knew that he was hurting his parents, that they despaired of ever seeing their family all together again. But what else could he do—sit down to a happy family dinner with him? The man who had made his life miserable—who had led the school bullies. So miserable that when he’d left school, escaped them, he’d sworn that he’d never again find himself in a situation he didn’t like without an escape route. Which was why the news that Rachel was pregnant had terrified him. Because if there was any situation more impossible to escape than this one, he didn’t want to know about it.

She would want to make a start on that plan this morning. Even when she’d been falling-over tired last night she’d mentioned wanting to do it. It was only the interruption of an enormous yawn that had made her listen to him and finally take herself off to bed—and a promise that they could talk about it today.

He only knew one thing for certain—no child of his would be subjected to the experience he’d had. He wanted a better life for him, or her.

What were the other headings in Rachel’s magnum opus? Finance? She obviously knew—or thought she knew—that he was well off. After all, he’d made the generous donation she’d not so subtly hinted at the night of the fundraiser. But that was family money, not his. He’d always been happy to send his trust-fund proceeds the way of those who really needed them—but had never used it for himself.

He’d seen the damage done when people inherited money without responsibility. Stick a load of those with an inflated sense of self-worth together, with insufficient supervision, and you had a recipe for disaster—and emotional torture in his case. If Rachel thought that she’d found herself a meal ticket she would be sadly disappointed. But he didn’t really think that was what she was interested in.