Pregnant With The Boss's Baby

I hope you’re all right. That my baby is doing okay.

CHAPTER THREE (#u9ef96a1b-6d56-5d0a-a577-2d4f82691340)

TAMARA HUDDLED AGAINST the bench in her kitchen, waiting for the toaster to pop. Wet hair hung down her back. Blow-drying it would take energy she didn’t have. Tomorrow it would stick out in all directions but right now she didn’t care. All she wanted was to eat something fast before slipping between the clean sheets she’d put on the bed that morning. To fall asleep and forget all the horrors of the day.

Those poor little kids, broken, in agony, some damaged for ever. The parents’ distress had been equally harrowing. Not something she’d have considered from a parent’s perspective until that thin blue line had entered her life. Never before had she seen such despair, so much shock, all at once.

The day the fraud squad had turned up at her family home had been shocking, but in a very different way; certainly not life-threatening, only life-changing. Back then, the press she had been used to, following her around to photograph her latest outfit or hairstyle, or who she’d dined with and where, had turned on her. Painted her the same black shade as Peter. From that day on she and the media had come to a mutual understanding. They disliked each other; a far cry from the fawning she’d grown up knowing and enjoying. These days, loath to attract attention of any kind, she no longer wore supermodel clothes or spent a fortune on make-up and hair. Nowadays she hid behind dull and duller.

A sigh escaped. What a day. And she’d thought telling Conor about their baby had been difficult. It had been a breeze compared to what those poor parents were dealing with.

Ding-dong. The doorbell was loud in the quiet space.

Her neck cricked painfully when her head snapped up. Who was here at this hour? She didn’t have visitors at any hour. Staring at her bedraggled reflection in the microwave door, she hoped whoever was out there would take the hint and go away.

Ding-dong.

Pulling the belt of her bathrobe tight, she took another moment to stare at the image gleaming back at her. Whoever it was, they’d soon take a hike when they saw her looking like something hauled out of a dumpster.

Ding-dong.

Persistent. ‘Yes, yes, I’m coming,’ she muttered as she gave in. Opening the front door, a gasp escaped her. ‘Conor.’ Might have known, considering the persistence aspect.

‘Did you check to see who was out here before you opened the door?’ he growled.

She hadn’t given it a thought. ‘Hang on.’ She made to close the door and peek through the eye-hole just to wind Conor up. How else to deal with him when she could barely remember her own name?

He was too quick for her, splaying his hand on the door to keep it open. ‘Can I come in?’

Don’t tell me we’re going to discuss our baby now.

She’d be at a huge disadvantage, her brain only functioning on low. Yet she stepped back, breathed him in as he passed. Her body succumbed to the scent of man with an overlay of antiseptic. ‘You’ve come straight from the hospital?’ she finally managed.

‘I wanted to make sure you’d got home all right and was coping with what went down in ED today.’

Of course she was. And wasn’t. ‘There’ll probably be some nightmares, but I’m fine.’ He cared enough to check on her? When he had to be feeling as shattered as she did? Raising her eyes to his, she found concern and something she couldn’t interpret fixed on her. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered around the lump suddenly clogging her throat. When was the last time a man—anyone, for that matter—had shown her such care? No one since her father had become ill with the dementia that had taken him from her. Not even Peter had managed to pull on a mask that had suggested he’d been genuinely concerned for her any time. One of the lesser reasons he was now her ex. ‘Thanks,’ she repeated.

‘Come here.’ Conor wrapped her up in a strong yet gentle hug, held her against his warm length and lowered his chin to the top of her wet head. ‘It’s been a huge day.’

Tamara’s arms lifted to his waist without any input from her brain. She snuggled her face into his chest. ‘Massive,’ she agreed.

‘You were amazing with your little patients. So caring, understanding, unflappable. I’ve worked with a lot of nurses and you are one of the best.’ A large, warm hand ran soft, soothing circles over her back. Slowly, slowly, the tension ebbed away, leaving her feeling comfortable with Conor.

Seriously? Oh, boy. That made her feel so good. ‘I could say the same back to you.’ And mean it as much as she believed he meant it.

‘So...’ Conor hesitated. ‘You’re okay now you’ve come down off the high brought on by the adrenalin rush today cranked up?’

‘I’m shattered so I don’t want to discuss our baby and how we’re going to deal with this situation tonight. I don’t believe I can be as focused as I need to be for that.’ Conor holding her like this made her feel as though she could tell him anything, open up to him, explain how she hoped their future—their baby’s future—would unfold. And probably give too much of herself away.

‘I came around to make sure you were all right. I also needed to hear you mention the pregnancy again. It’s been a blur from the moment Michael knocked on my office door.’

Leaning back in his arms, she gazed up at him. ‘We are going to have a baby.’

‘Right.’ Those blue eyes locked on hers, and this time the electricity that often flowed between them was quiet. More of an accepting, compliant force. But he’d have his own agenda. Everyone did. While talking about her training to become a doctor, he’d mentioned his plans for the coming years, starting with an application he’d sent in for a position in an emergency department in Sydney Hospital.

Had he heard whether he’d got the job? She tensed. Where would that leave her and the baby? Free to raise her child as she chose? Or would he demand she follow him across the Tasman? If Conor turned out to be as manipulative as Peter had then she wished him to Siberia. Neither would she be following. Her exhausted muscles contracted some more. There was a lot to learn about this man before she could begin to make any plans for her and baby’s future.

‘Easy does it,’ Conor murmured above her. ‘Relax. We can put off in-depth and meaningful conversations for another day.’

Sure thing. She tried to pull out of those compelling arms. Conor simply tightened his hold, keeping her spread against him. Giving in, she went with the moment, absorbed his strength, his warmth, him.

Who knew how long they stood there, holding one another? All Tamara understood was that she didn’t want to move ever again. She’d temporarily found her safe place in Conor’s arms, and to pull away would sever whatever had brought them together. To move apart would bring back all the doubts and questions, would waken her up to the reality that she didn’t know her baby’s father well enough to put their needs in his hands. Or to trust him to do what was right for her. At the moment she was beyond leaving his arms, no matter what the consequences.

Finally Conor lifted his head and tilted it back to look down into her eyes. ‘I’ve ordered Thai. It should arrive any minute. I had to make sure you ate something more than a piece of toast.’

‘How’d you know that’s what I’d have?’

‘It was a guess. Might know you better than you think.’ He smiled, a slow cautious lifting of those clever lips. ‘Can I take a shower before we eat?’

‘Help yourself.’ Or should she be kicking him out? She was still edgy about him being here.

Conor dropped his arms. ‘Thanks, Tam.’

‘Don’t call me Tam.’ It was an automatic response. She didn’t deserve her dad’s pet name any more.

His eyes widened but all he asked was, ‘Where’s the bathroom?’

‘In the interests of saving you what little energy you’ve probably got left, follow me.’ As if her flat needed a map. ‘Here. Help yourself to towels under the basin. I’ll pull on some proper clothes and warm the oven for the Thai so you don’t have to rush.’

Conor ran his knuckles lightly over her cheek. ‘Stay like you are. I’m only here for a short while and you’ll be wanting to head to bed as soon as I’ve gone.’

Bed and Conor in the same thought should’ve cranked up her desire levels. They didn’t. Right now she was all out of anything but the need to eat and sleep. And by the exhaustion rippling off Conor he wasn’t any keener to get naked with her either. ‘Okay.’ Anyway, something as intimate as sex wasn’t happening while they were grappling with this new situation. She couldn’t afford to let him under her radar. The more caring and concerned he was for her the more worried she was he might want to take something from her.

Ding-dong. Her doorbell didn’t ring as often in a week as it had tonight.

‘I’ll get that. Take your time. There’s plenty of hot water.’ She closed the bathroom door before Conor said anything that could possibly change her mind and start to stir up her hormones. If he began peeling his clothes off in front of her, well... Risky, given how comfortable she was feeling with him. Almost as if she’d take a step off the edge to follow him. Almost. Went to show the state of her brain. Messy. Chaotic. In need of sleep.

‘This green curry is delicious,’ Tamara told Conor twenty minutes later as they lounged in her sitting room, laden plates on their knees. Hardly fine dining but very cosy. Her mother would have kittens if she saw her daughter like this in front of a man, especially as she was wearing a bathrobe that had seen better days a long time ago.

But you walked away from me, Mum, so your opinion doesn’t count.

‘I wasn’t sure if you liked spicy food so I went with middling chilli.’

‘It’s yummy.’ Her taste buds were in overdrive and even her unreliable stomach was happy, though usually it was used to hot curry.

‘Glad you like it.’ Conor shuffled further back in the armchair he’d snagged earlier, pretending he wasn’t yawning and all the while looking exhausted.

Then she thought of the cosy factor and the happiness retreated a step. Doing cosy with Conor when they had massive issues lying between them did not make sense. Even without the baby, cosy wasn’t an option for her. Cosy would suck her in and leave her wide open for Conor to make everything go his way. At the moment she knew so little about him. Being sexually attracted to him didn’t mean anything in this situation. She needed to get up to speed, and fast. Like checking the legal process for keeping her baby in New Zealand if he wanted to take it home to Ireland any time. Forewarned was forearmed. Protecting herself. Something she hadn’t known to do with Peter. ‘When you’re not at work, what do you do with your time?’