Accidental Baby

There was a pause as Liam looked at her with a peculiar expression in his eyes. ‘In some quarters I’m considered quite a catch,’ he responded finally.

She gave a relieved laugh—at least he hadn’t totally lost his sense of humour. ‘Yes, but I know you a lot better than they do,’ she pointed out reasonably. ‘I’m so glad you’re going to be sensible.’

‘Sensible?’ he said in an odd voice. ‘Because I’m not proposing to you?’

‘That would be disastrous, wouldn’t it?’ She wrinkled up her small nose. ‘I know platonic marriages based on friendship are meant to work very well, but I want a bit of. . . fire in mine. If I ever have one.’

‘Well, I hope you’re not relying on Justin Wood to supply the spark, Jo, because I’d say he’s the flame-resistant type.’ Unaccountably he looked extremely angry.

‘I don’t know what you’ve got against Justin,’ she responded crossly.

‘And I don’t know what you see in him! Never have done. I don’t know what you’re defending him for—he’s the one who gave you the push after. . . how long did this passionate affair go on for?’

‘You’re well aware I went out with Justin for two years. How would you like it if I criticised your girlfriends?’

‘And I suppose it wasn’t criticism when you suggested Tania’s figure owed more to silicone than nature?’

‘Which one was she? I forget. I know some people might say you lack staying power, but I—’

‘You have the tongue of a viper.’ The reluctant smile died from his face as he slipped off the sofa and knelt down beside her. ‘This is one situation you can’t joke yourself out of, Jo.’ He caught her hands firmly within his. ‘You feel like ice,’ he observed with a frown as he began to rub her fingers to restore circulation. ‘I think we’ve got to come to some sort of formal arrangement concerning the baby.’

‘Why does it have to be formal?’ For a minute there when he’d gone down on his knees she’d thought. . . ! Ridiculous. Liam wouldn’t be stupid enough to even suggest it. She had seen the way he’d reacted when his mother had mentioned the word ‘marriage’. His horror at the very thought had been apparent in that unguarded moment.

‘The idea of my child being brought up by a Justin clone makes my blood run cold,’ he said frankly.

Jo pulled her hands free of his crossly. ‘The implication being, you don’t trust me to put the interests of my child first.’

‘Our child,’ he reminded her.

Jo gave a frustrated sigh. ‘I wish I’d never told you.’ Life was complicated enough already without having a possessive father to contend with. The fact that what he said made sense didn’t help at all.

‘You didn’t!’ he reminded her, and she flushed under his ironic gaze and then went very pale. ‘I don’t want to pressure you.’ Unexpectedly he took her face in his hands. For a second she thought he was going to kiss her; his eyes were certainly lingering overlong on the full curve of her mouth. Her heart was thudding so loud he could probably feel the vibrations. ‘I’ll even break it to Mum there won’t be wedding bells.’ With a lopsided smile he released her.

‘Good luck.’ She was glad he hadn’t sealed their tentative bargaining with a kiss. Relief made her feel quite nauseous for a moment and she didn’t dare risk getting to her feet until her knees had stopped shaking.

CHAPTER TWO

‘YOU’LL get those lovely shiny shoes dirty if you come in here,’ Jo warned. The sight of the long legs attached to those shoes instantly put an end to a peaceful half-hour during which she’d managed not to think about anything taxing. She took her time straightening up to give her racing heart time to slow. ‘I’m feeding Napoleon.’

For a man who often bemoaned the fact that his clients could be sentimental about their animals, Bill Smith often brought home a selection of waifs and strays—occasionally one was just too unappealing or antisocial to be found a permanent home. Napoleon, a particularly vile-tempered billy-goat was one of this number, a permanent fixture for many years now.

‘A man could be excused for thinking you didn’t want me near you.’ He kept a wary eye on the goat. ‘That animal has never liked me.’

She couldn’t have asked for a more innocuous conversation; there was certainly nothing in his manner to explain her tumultuous pulse-rate and shaky knees.

‘Normally I’d say you shouldn’t endow animals with human characteristics, but in this case. . . I’ll tie him up—the bill might be hefty if he decides to eat that rather smart suit.’ Loose Italian styling in dark grey made him appear almost a stranger. ‘We don’t usually dress for Sunday lunch,’ she joked, to cover her growing confusion.

‘I don’t think I’m invited,’ Liam responded drily. ‘Your dad told me you were here.’ One dark brow quirked meaningfully. ‘I’ve a meeting, in Manchester,’ he added, casually smoothing down his silk tie.

Jo put down the plastic bucket and, hands thrust in the pockets of her jeans, she stepped out into the weak morning sunlight. ‘You’ve seen Dad, then. Was it very awful?’

‘You could say we had a frank exchange of views. His view being that I’m a selfish, untrustworthy bastard who has taken advantage of his hospitality by seducing his daughter.’

She winced whilst acknowledging privately it could have been worse. Dad’s language the previous night had been a lot less restrained. ‘I’m sorry, Liam, but he’s a bit upset right now.’

‘I didn’t say I disagreed with him.’

‘Don’t you start,’ she snapped. ‘I’ve had enough of that nonsense from him! I told Dad if anyone did the seducing it was me!’ Unpalatable though it might be, this was a fact and she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t. Chin tilted, she dared him to contradict her.

Something flickered at the back of his eyes. ‘That must have gone down well. I’m surprised he didn’t turn the dogs on me.’

Jo smiled a little wanly as she thought of her father’s motley collection of other people’s rejects—one thing they all had in common was extreme docility. ‘If he had they might have drooled you to death. Do you remember when—?’

‘We need to do some serious talking, Jo.’ His expression made it clear he didn’t share her desire to reminisce. ‘You can’t act as though nothing has changed.’

He’s telling me that! ‘You prefer Greek tragedy? I’ll polish up my heart-rending sobs, shall I? You don’t have to tell me nothing is ever going to be the same—I’ve worked that out even hampered by my limited intelligence.’

He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Point taken, Jo. You just seem so. . . so calm about all this.’

She had to smile at that. He had no notion of the blind panic that had seized her when she’d first realised she was pregnant. ‘Your life doesn’t have to change fundamentally because of this.’ It was only natural he’d be concerned—having fatherhood thrust upon him was bound to be an unsettling experience.

His fingers tightened over the curve of her collar-bone and she winced. ‘Sorry,’ he grated, dropping his arm. ‘You’re assuming I couldn’t cope with the demands of fatherhood.’

The anger emanating from his tense body confused her. ‘I’m sure you could cope, I’m just saying you don’t have to. I’ll be fine on my own. . . ’ The blast of fury from his blue eyes made her voice trail away.

‘Only you won’t be on your own, you’ll have my child.’

She suddenly realised she’d been naive not to expect this possessiveness, but it genuinely hadn’t occurred to her.

‘And the child will have you too, but not on a full-time basis. That’s all I was trying to say.’ Considering the obvious depth of his feeling she was prepared to overlook his hostility.

‘But you’ll grant me visitation rights.’

‘We won’t need anything like that,’ she said, shocked by his suggestion and the bitterness in his tone.

‘You say that now, but what about later when a new Justin is back on the scene? Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t want to be a part-time father?’

What was he saying? They both knew nothing else was possible. She couldn’t believe this was Liam talking; he was like a stranger—a stranger, furthermore, she didn’t much like. ‘You’re talking nonsense.’

‘I’m making a valid point. I’m not prepared to leave the future to take care of itself, not when it’s my child we’re talking about.’

‘Our child,’ she said quietly.

‘Pardon?’

‘Our child,’ she said, her voice moving swiftly up the scales. ‘You keep saying my child this, my child that. I am involved in this,’ she reminded him sarcastically. ‘What a fool I was to assume that this would be easier because we’re friends! If I had to have a one-night stand I wish I’d had it with a stranger! It would have made things a lot easier.’

Under his tan Liam went white and the vivid colour of his eyes seemed more pronounced by contrast. ‘We’re all wise in retrospect. It would seem you’re stuck with me as the father of your child, Jo. You’d better come to terms with the fact I’m not about to disappear.’