His Wedding-Night Heir

‘I’ve no intention of using force,’ he told her coolly. ‘It’s high time that delightful body of yours discovered what it was made for. And, if memory serves, the last time you were in my arms you thought so too.’

Her head went back sharply, as if he had struck her. ‘What you’re suggesting is obscene. Unthinkable. You can’t think for one moment that I’d agree.’

Nick shrugged. ‘You came here tonight, Cally, of your own free will, wanting a favour. Quite a sizeable one at that. I’m now telling you the price ticket it carries. Whether you pay it, of course, is your choice alone. It depends on how strongly you feel about the survival of Gunners Terrace—these people you claim to care about so deeply.’

‘You think I’ll save them at the expense of my own life?’

‘Not the whole of it,’ he said. ‘Just the year you stole from me when you ran away. You see, I still have use for you, and that should be enough time for you to repay some of the debt you owe me—and give me what I want.’

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I don’t understand. You’re saying now that you want me to come back to you, but only for a limited period?’

He said quietly, ‘Just as long as it takes for you to give me a child. So make your mind up quickly, because the staff here are waiting to close.’

She stared at him, stunned and incredulous, her brain churning wildly. She was dazedly aware that what he’d said was correct. The other tables had emptied while they were talking and she hadn’t even noticed. The waiters were gathered now in a small group at the end of the room, chatting amongst themselves.

While she sat in this pool of lamplight, like a fly trapped in amber… Listening to him, but not believing what she was hearing. She heard herself laugh, the sound strained and alien.

She said, mastering her voice somehow, ‘You want me—to have your baby? You can’t honestly be serious. It’s ludicrous. Totally impossible.’

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘but I am perfectly serious. This is a question of inheritance, Cally. I want an heir—someone to come after me. Son or daughter. I don’t mind,’ he added with a curt shrug.

‘And that’s good and sufficient reason…?’ She choked over the words.

‘I inherited Wylstone Hall because I was Ranald Tempest’s only relative,’ he said. ‘But we were almost complete strangers to each other. ‘Whatever I leave will damned well go to my own flesh and blood. Not some distant relation—someone I’ve barely met.’

He paused. ‘Achieve this one thing for me, Cally, and then I’ll release you from the marriage. I won’t fight the divorce. In fact, I’ll make it easy for you.’ He paused. ‘And you’ll find me generous.’

Money, she thought. He means money. I’d probably never have to work again unless I wished it.

‘And afterwards?’ she asked, her voice shaking. ‘If I should—have a child, what happens then?’

‘That’s open to negotiation,’ he told her curtly. ‘But I suggest that in principle we share joint custody. At first, anyway.’

She stared back at him. She said faintly, ‘You must be—insane.’

‘Why? Because I want my wife to have my baby? It seems a fairly normal course of events to me.’

‘But we don’t have a normal marriage.’

‘Not at this moment, perhaps,’ he said softly. ‘But all that could change very soon.’

She said in a low voice, ‘Is that—why you married me? Because you thought I was young and strong, and you could breed from me?’

Nick shrugged. ‘We all have our own priorities,’ he said. ‘But rest assured that I also found you—highly desirable.’

Her arms went round her body in an involuntary gesture of self-protection, and she saw his mouth twist.

She said hurriedly, ‘But surely there are other women…’ She paused, swallowing. Trying to blot certain forbidden images from her mind. ‘I mean—you could divorce me quickly and find someone else. Someone who’d make you happy. Want to give you a family.’

‘Let me be blunt,’ he said. ‘I’ve had time to think during our—separation, and I’ve discovered I’ve no real taste for being a husband. One unlucky foray into matrimony is quite enough, and I have no plans to replace you.’ His faint smile was cynical. ‘Don’t they say, “Better the devil you know”?’

‘Yes,’ she said numbly. ‘Sometimes—they do.’ But it doesn’t have to be true.

‘Besides, you clearly can’t wait to get away from me,’ he added. ‘So there’s no threat of you wanting to hang around on a permanent basis.’

She said tautly, ‘Cramping your style?’

‘Precisely, darling,’ he drawled. ‘How well you’re getting to know me.’

‘Then think about this instead,’ Cally pressed on, with a touch of desperation. ‘There’s no certainty about these things. Pregnancy and the rest of it. For all we know I might not—one of us might not—be able to have children.’

Nick shrugged. ‘That’s a risk I’m prepared to take.’ His eyes met hers. ‘Are you on the Pill?’

Mutely, she shook her head. A celibate life, she thought, didn’t need that kind of protection.

‘Then I’d need you to guarantee to stay off it,’ he said curtly. ‘But the final decision, as I’ve made clear, rests entirely with you. You either co-operate—come back to me as my wife—or you don’t. A simple choice.’

Simple? Cally thought, a bubble of hysteria forming in her chest. Simple? Was that what he really believed?

‘It’s revenge—isn’t it?’ Her voice was torn—ragged. ‘You want to punish me—humiliate me. It’s payback time.’

‘If so, you’re heavily in arrears, sweetheart,’ he told her unsmilingly. ‘Tell me something, Cally, why accept my marriage proposal in the first place—if it was so degrading to you?’

She hesitated warily. ‘I—I suppose I was grateful. It was all a hell of a mess and you rescued us. Although you had no reason to do so. And if I never said it before, I’ll say it now. Thank you for that—for everything you did for my grandfather—and for me.’

His glance was cynical. ‘I want more than words, Cally.’

Her voice trembled. ‘But I have nothing else to give. I could try and repay you in other ways eventually, but I won’t—do what you want. You must see that. I—I can’t…’

He studied her for a moment, brows raised, then reached into his jacket for a mobile phone.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Calling Matt at the hotel, to tell him tomorrow’s site visit is cancelled.’ His voice was clipped. ‘You can tell the residents why any deal’s off. You have the rest of the night to plan your explanation. I suggest you make it a good one, because according to your boyfriend a lot of lives are going to be devastated. I’d hate for them to blame you, but I suspect they might.’

‘No.’ It hurt to breathe suddenly. ‘Wait.’

‘Well?’ The response was uncompromising, the phone still in his hand.

She looked down at her fingers, laced tightly together in her lap.

‘Gunners Terrace is precious to me,’ she said tautly. ‘Perhaps more than I’d even realised. And so is my eventual freedom.’ She paused. ‘I presume you’re also prepared to guarantee that—in writing?’

‘If that’s what it takes.’ Nick put the phone back in his pocket.

She lifted her head. Met his gaze directly. Unflinchingly. ‘Then I’ll—do what you want. But you have to give me some time—some space—to adjust.’

‘And why should I do that?’ He sounded almost casually interested.