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Authors: Kim Lawrence

BOOK: Accidental Baby
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Her trailing arm sent the bedside light crashing onto the floor. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said as he lifted his head. She didn’t want to illuminate the scene, she didn’t want anything to intrude on the unreal quality of this incredible episode. Dark was safer.
If she paused long enough to think that it was
Liam
who
was pulling her nightshirt over her head, and Liam whose tongue was tasting every inch of her aching breasts, it would spoil everything. She’d be left with the paradox of why she wanted—no, why she
needed
him to.
His need was as great as hers, even through the layers of his clothes she could feel that. He was in the grip of a desire just as blind as the one which drove her to rip at his shirt and curse softly with frustration as her fingers fumbled over the buckle of his belt.
When he took control of that problem she encouraged or very possibly distracted him with soft kisses pressed on the strong curve of his back. He lay back down and she eagerly insinuated herself closer to him, only to be momentarily thrown off her stride when he sat up again, laughing.
‘What?’ If he changed his mind now the consequences might well be fatal!
‘I’ve still got my boots on.’ Faint laughter still rumbled in the vault of his chest.
Laughter was rapidly replaced by frantic murmurs when he returned to her. Imprisoned by his heavy, hair-roughened thighs, her nostrils filled with the warm, masculine, aroused scent of his body, she lost what little control she had and every inhibition that had ever restrained her.
She wanted to taste him, touch him, and she did so with joyous abandon. The strength of his body and its eye-opening muscularity delighted her. He guided her forays with a firm hand, and in his turn touched her until her harsh gasps echoed in the dark room.
Over the years, she knew, he’d had enough practice at such things, but there was nothing slick or polished about him now. His responses were raw, his elegant, strong
hands shook and his body trembled as though he were struggling against an invisible barrier. The next day her body bore the marks of his urgent caresses.
Waking at some point in the night, Jo’s mind instantly went into replay mode. The culmination of their wild, unrestrained coupling had resulted in an equally violent release. Sleepily, she tried to make sense of it. She didn’t have a strong sex drive, did she? I actually shouted! She sat up with a jolt. No. ‘
I screamed!’
In the darkness the blush spread over her body.
Her action in the confined space sent the quilt slithering onto the floor. Run or retrieve the quilt? Not a complex decision, but one that taxed her flustered mind at that moment. If she hadn’t sat there dithering Liam wouldn’t have woken up!
He rolled over onto his side and threw his leg over her hip. The weight of his thigh immobilised her. ‘What did you say?’ The purr of his deep, sleepy murmur made her tense.
‘I didn’t say anything.’
‘Yes, you did.’ He paused, obviously trawling through his sleepy recollections before coming up with the goods. ‘You said, “‘I screamed.”’
‘Nonsense.’ She tried to pull the rumpled sheet up from the bottom of the bed.
‘You did, you know. You said—’
She didn’t need reminding of what she’d said, it was branded on her memory. ‘Don’t!’ she shrieked, putting both her hands firmly over what she hoped was his mouth. It was—despite the pressure of her fingers his lips parted and his tongue flickered over the centre of her palm.
She might have denied the words but she couldn’t deny the arousing quality of the damp touch. It was ridiculous
but all the strength left her body in a silent whoosh. She fell forward and put her hands out to cushion her fall. It was all part of the weird conspiracy that Liam found her hands had been replaced by the soft contours of her breasts. It wasn’t an exchange he appeared to have any problems with.
‘A gift from the gods,’ he murmured as his mouth closed around one swollen rosy peak. His actions no longer had the raw urgency of earlier, but as she lay, her body spread-eagled over his, she couldn’t doubt the strength of his arousal.
She moaned and tried to raise herself up on her elbows. ‘We can’t do this.’
Liam’s hands came up to cover the curve of her buttocks, his thumbs hooked around the angle of her hipbones. ‘Actually, it wouldn’t be that difficult and there’s a strong possibility it would be pleasurable.’ Her breath caught sharply as his tongue unexpectedly traced the still damp area of her nipple. ‘You are so sensitive it’s incredible, especially there.’
‘Everywhere.’ With you, anyway, she realised in bewilderment.
The whispered admission brought a deep purr of male satisfaction from his throat. ‘Then I’ll have to be very attentive. You’ll have to tell me if there’s anywhere I miss.’
‘You can’t say things like that to me.’
‘Why, don’t you like to hear them?’ The taunting quality in his deep, caressing tones made her throat ache. Her body was taut and trembling with anticipation so she couldn’t immediately allow herself to accept. Excitement was building inside her until she couldn’t breathe.
‘You’re sorry for me.’
‘Lust isn’t pity.’
‘Is this lust?’ He tugged her down until her face was level with his, her breasts were crushed against his chest and her knees were either side of his thighs.
‘Does it need to have a name,’ he groaned, ‘when it feels so good? You smell of me. You taste of me.’ His open mouth moved over her neck. He obviously found the discovery exciting—his body surged suggestively against her.
‘I want to. . . ’
‘What, sweetheart? What do you want to do to me?’ His breath was warm and fragrant on her cheek. His hands moved slowly, sensuously over her back, down the curve of her thigh. He flexed her knee and ran his thumb over the sensitive skin of her instep. ‘If I tell you what I like, will it help?’
Every wicked, honeyed syllable was fraying the edges of her doubts and inhibitions until they snapped. ‘I want. . . want to do everything to you,’ she half sobbed. ‘And I want you to do everything to me.’
That was the end of her resistance and the beginning—the beginning of an experience that was infinitely more intimate than their earlier frantic encounter. A slow, sensuous voyage of discovery where the power of the word was as great as the power of taste and touch.
And
such words
—she couldn’t think now about the things she’d said without her skin burning. She hadn’t even suspected that the male mind could contain such erotic fantasies—she ought to have been shocked, but each velvet syllable that had dripped like honey from his lips had aroused her to even greater heights of passion.
‘I’ve been thinking.’
Totally disorientated, she blinked and tried to focus her
glazed vision. Her own thoughts had absorbed her so deeply she couldn’t immediately respond.
‘Are you all right?’ he persisted.
‘Yes, fine.’
‘You looked a bit strange there for a minute.’
‘Don’t fuss.’ Just as well I wasn’t in the driver’s seat, she reflected grimly. It isn’t healthy, this constant preoccupation with an incident best forgotten. What’s wrong with me? It was a one-off—well, two-off to be accurate—the result of a freak set of circumstances, nothing more. Forget it ever happened, wasn’t that what Liam had said? He’d only slept with her out of pity, she reminded herself.
‘I’ve been thinking.’
So have I! So you keep saying. Are you going to share it?’
‘I think we should get married after all.’
CHAPTER THREE
T
HE car drew to a halt. ‘Did you hear what I said? You must have considered it too.’
‘Must I?’ Had Liam gone mad, stark staring mad? He sounded as if he were discussing nothing more emotional than buying a new car.
‘It’s the obvious solution when you look at things logically.’
‘Logic’s going to come into this, is it?’ Logic had always been the term Liam used when he twisted facts to prove he’d been right all along. Jo gritted her teeth and squared her shoulders. Anger was to be expected—anyone would be angry, but why was this farcical proposal hurting so much?
‘We have to be practical.’
‘Thanks for sharing your breathtaking insight and wisdom.’
‘You can’t laugh this situation off,’ he said, his expression austere with disapproval.
‘I promise you this isn’t laughter.’ Her bosom swelled with indignation. She winced as the fabric of her light bra chafed her ultra-sensitive nipples. He could offer her advice when
his
bosoms were almost visibly inflating by the hour! If he had bosoms, that was—which he didn’t, he had. . . She felt a confusing surge of warmth as she remembered exactly what he had in their place.
She was relieved when his sober voice interrupted her mental detours. ‘I know you like your independence, but a baby will inevitably make inroads into that, and if you
have me to support you misfortunes like losing your job needn’t become major disasters. I don’t think you’re being entirely realistic about the future, Jo, are you?’ His tolerant, kindly tone made her want to punch him. ‘Friendship isn’t such a bad basis for marriage. It would make our families happy.’
‘So I should marry you to please our families?’ she enquired with interest. Anger was building steadily inside her. Was he
trying
to insult her? Did he honestly think that any woman in her right mind would go along with such a crazy—such a
cold
proposition?
‘That’s not what I was saying,’ he interrupted impatiently.
Stay calm, Jo, she told herself as she unbuckled her seat belt. ‘Pardon me, Liam, but that’s
exactly
what you were saying, in your own uniquely patronising way. I’m sorry Dad won’t speak to you. I’ve tried to reason with him.’
She’d repeatedly told him it wasn’t Liam’s fault, but her words had made no impact on him at all. When she’d initially refused to discuss the issue of the baby’s father he’d brought no pressure to bear. In fact, he’d been incredibly supportive, but now he knew it was Liam his entire attitude had, somewhat unreasonably, changed.
‘It’s unfair, I know, but I think marriage is a bit of a drastic solution to help you out of an uncomfortable situation.’
‘I don’t care if Uncle Bill won’t speak to me. I don’t give a damn if my own father is acting as though he’s reared a monster.’
‘I didn’t know it was that bad.’ She grimaced sympathetically. It was obvious he did care, he cared a lot, but that was no excuse for his clinical and impractical solution.
‘Dad made his feelings
quite
plain after you left the other night,’ Liam said drily. ‘That’s beside the point’ He
shrugged off the rift between him and his father. ‘Between us we’ve created a life, Jo, that’s something special. A child needs two parents. You need someone to look after you.’
‘Granted, but they don’t have to be married to one another.’ His words brought an emotional lump to her throat.
‘I’m damned if I’ll see my child brought up by the likes of Justin Wood!’ His expression echoed the repugnance in his words
‘I might have known it! What a hypocrite you are, Liam Rafferty.’ She cast him a look of disgust and scrambled out of the vehicle. To think she’d been in danger of getting all misty-eyed and choked. To play on her guilt was a low trick. He had picked his points so cleverly with the sole intention of driving his message home; and to think she’d always admired his straightforward honesty!
‘Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you,’ he yelled, following her.
‘All that rubbish about creating a life together and facing up to our responsibilities! Supporting me, my foot!’ She gave a snort of disgust as she stamped along. ‘You’re not concerned about me, you just don’t want Justin or any other man being involved in the upbringing of your child. The only person you’re considering is yourself,’ she flung over her shoulder.
‘That’s a lie!’ His face was dark with anger.
‘Don’t insult my intelligence. You’ve never liked any of my boyfriends,’ she recalled, ‘and as for Justin you’ve always had your knife into him. All those snide remarks and sly digs. Justin would make a marvellous father.’ Her smile glittered with angry malice. ‘Yes,’ she mused, ‘the more I think about it, the more it seems the best solution all round.’
Liam seized her by the shoulders. There was something
primeval about the fury that drew his features into a taut mask. ‘I accept you want to punish me for wrecking your life, but don’t even think about taking that route,’ he said thickly.
She swayed slightly under the impact of his white-hot warning. She’d always known there was a ruthless element in Liam’s character, but she’d never experienced it firsthand before—she’d never expected to.
‘You don’t get it, do you, Liam? My life isn’t ruined; I
want
this child.’ Something in her expression and the clear, sure sound of her voice penetrated the fog of his anger.
He let her go and took a step backwards. He didn’t try to stop her as she walked away.
 
Jo had never felt so wretched in her life. They’d never had a row before, not a real one—squabbles, yes, but they’d been mended swiftly and left no scars. She’d never
tried
to hurt him before—wanted to hurt him. She rested her head on her knees and pushed her back into the cold surface of the wall.
‘Hello.’
Jo surreptitiously wiped her nose with the back of her hand before lifting her head. ‘I thought you’d gone.’
Looking at the tear-stained face, Liam swallowed hard. ‘So how were you planning to get in?’
She shrugged. ‘I hadn’t thought about it.’
‘Come on, you can’t sit there.’ He caught her elbow and urged her to her feet. He didn’t look angry now, he looked wary and almost as weary as she felt—all this emotional stuff was certainly tiring! She remained silent as he turned the key in the lock. ‘I suppose you want this back?’ He held out the palm of his hand.
Jo looked at the key. No, it was too symbolic, too final, she wasn’t ready to give up on their friendship yet.
‘You’d better keep it for emergencies,’ she said without looking up at him. Silently he followed her into the small flat.
Normally he’d have breezed into the sitting room after he’d been away, flop down onto her chintzy sofa and demand she put on the kettle. Today he stood there stiff and awkward, like a stranger; it broke her heart to see it.
‘Will you tell me the truth if I ask you something, Jo?’
‘It depends on the question,’ she replied, her thoughts racing. What answer could be that important? What question could make him look so grave?
‘Are you
glad
you’re pregnant? I don’t mean in a philosophical sense, I mean
genuinely
happy.’
She shot him a startled look. ‘Yes.’
Deeper than confusion, worry, fear and the inevitable guilt, what she actually felt was a deep contentment. Until he’d actually suggested it she hadn’t even considered this facet of the situation.
‘I expect that seems strange to you? Maybe it’s something to do with my biological clock?’ she suggested.
Her biological clock hadn’t appeared to be ticking loudly when Justin had very recently suggested it was time they started a family.
‘So you wanted to get pregnant.’
‘Are you,’ she asked incredulously, ‘suggesting I
planned
this?’
‘Not consciously. . . ’ Despite his words Jo could see he was giving the idea serious consideration.
‘And naturally I’d choose you as the father.’ This was unbelievable!
‘Post-mortems aren’t going to do us much good.’
Jo had never gone out of her way to disprove the theory that redheads and a placid temperament did not go together,
but, even by her tempestuous standards, he could see that she was working herself up into a right royal fury!
The sparks from her narrowed green eyes were a danger to flammable materials. The fiery quality of her red curls served to emphasise her sudden drastic pallor. The idea of such a passionate, elemental creature becoming an accountant of all things had always seemed ironic. He recalled that his laughter when she’d confided her ambitions had made her furious. He’d coaxed away her anger that time—this time he didn’t think it would be so easy.
‘You’re the one trawling my subconscious’ You really do think a lot of yourself, don’t you, Liam? If I was choosing a father for my child you’d be the
last
person I’d choose. When have you ever stayed in a relationship more than a couple of months?’ Hands on hips, she swept her eyes disparagingly over him.
‘Your attitude to women hardly screams emotionally mature!’ she observed scornfully. ‘Your lifestyle makes a gypsy’s seem stable. Call me old-fashioned, but I’ve always thought that in an ideal world it’s kind of nice for a child to be able to recognise his father without the use of snapshots. Don’t you ever
dare
imply that I tried to trap you! Trap you, indeed,’ she sniffed. ‘I’d throw you back!’
‘You’ve developed the art of misinterpreting everything I say into a science.’ Liam’s expression had become more deeply encased in ice with each fresh, brutally frank observation she made. ‘I had no idea I was such a failure as a friend. I’m surprised you welcomed me into your home considering my immaturity and promiscuity,’ he observed pithily.
‘What’s perfectly acceptable in a friend can be a bit of an embarrassment in a partner, or father.’ If you dish it up, Liam, she decided grimly, be very sure you can take it.
‘Damn you, Jo, are you trying to tell me you hate me
that much?’ The stark expression of pain in his blue eyes made her own fill with totally unexpected tears.
‘But don’t you
see
, Liam?’ she whispered. ‘If you marry me that’s exactly how you’ll feel about me. You’ll grow to resent me—hate me.’ If you don’t already, she thought miserably. ‘I know this thing has blown what we had apart, but if we don’t do anything hasty we might just save something. I’d like to do that,’ she admitted huskily. ‘You must see how unsuitable it would be—look at us now.’ She stretched her arms out wide and held her hands palm up. ‘Just look at us!’ Her arms fell to her sides in a helpless gesture of defeat.
Liam stood in shaken silence for several long moments. ‘You’re being totally irrational, Jo.’
‘I’m pregnant, what’s your excuse?’ she shot back with a glimmer of humour. ‘You’re so pigheaded and stubborn I could shake you.’ She gave an exasperated sigh.
‘You could try,’ he agreed equably.
‘You don’t have to do the
right
thing. There’s no social stigma attached to being a single mother these days.’
‘Tell that to your ex-bosses at MacGrew and Bartnett, did you?’
‘It’s their loss.’ I really walked right into that one!
‘Fighting words, but where do you go from here?’
‘I might go freelance, start up on my own.’
‘And how much research have you invested in that idea?’
‘Lots!’ she lied glibly.
She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting the need to wipe that cynical
knowing
look off his face had been the inspiration for the idea. It wasn’t as if it was a bad idea; in fact, the more she thought about it. . .
‘You pulled that one out of thin air.’
Jo glared at him and wished she’d had the good sense
to shut the door in his face. ‘I’m feeling inspired.’ She was also feeling acutely nauseous which did sort of dull her needle-sharp responses. Why, she wondered, do they call it morning sickness? It was the evenings for her—it played havoc with a girl’s social life.
‘You know you can’t have a baby in this flat, don’t you?’
Finger on chin, she pretended to cast her mind back. ‘No, it was definitely pets, not children in the lease.’
‘Be sensible, Jo.’
Fat chance I’ve got to be anything else, she wanted to shout at him. She knew from experience that thinking about throwing up would undoubtedly anticipate the event.
‘This flat is on the third floor, there’s no lift, no garden, no space. Have you any idea how much space a baby needs?
‘Don’t let me interrupt you, you’re obviously the expert. Only you’ll have to carry on without me.’ Hand over her mouth, she fled to the bathroom.
‘Running away isn’t going to solve anything,’ Liam yelled impatiently as he followed her. He was about to push open the door which had swung in his face when the sound coming from inside the room stopped him.

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