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Authors: Kim Lawrence

BOOK: Accidental Baby
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‘Well, even nuns have nights off—I’ve got some fairly conclusive proof of that!’
Liam’s eyes closed and he struck his forehead with his clenched fist. ‘Oh, Jo, what have I done to you? Your career, your plans. I know how hard you’ve worked.’
‘I was there too, remember.’ Passive she had
not
been.
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I do.’
Under the relentless scrutiny of his direct, unblinking gaze she found her throat closing as simultaneously her limbs grew heavy and totally uncooperative. At least I’m sitting down—falling in a heap would have given rise to unhealthy speculation.
‘There’s no point crying over spilt milk,’ she concluded with painfully false cheerfulness.
‘A novel euphemism.’
‘There’s no need to be snide and clever, Liam. We made a mistake, that’s what it all boils down to. I’m not going to let this baby suffer for that.’
‘A mistake.’ She couldn’t understand the bitterness in his deep voice.
‘Well, it wasn’t as if we intended such a tangible result of our. . . our. . . ’ She chewed on her lower lip and evinced a sudden and deep interest in the ugly print of a pheasant on the wall behind his head.
‘Words fail me too,’ he said, unexpectedly coming to her aid. ‘And that’s a problem I don’t normally have,’ he admitted frankly.
‘No, you always have had a lot to say for yourself,’ she agreed huskily. Could it be that Liam had been less successful than she’d imagined at wiping out the memory?
‘How did your dad take it, Jo?’
‘He thinks this wouldn’t have happened if Mum had still been alive.’ She sighed as a frown formed on her smooth brow. ‘It seems everyone feels responsible for me. I’m not stupid, I’ve thought about the difficulties of combining a career with being a single parent, but the bottom line is you and everyone else will have to abide by my decisions, Liam.’
‘This doesn’t have to be a battle, Jo.’ Uneasily she saw that his expression suggested he’d be prepared to participate if that was what it took.
‘That’s what I thought,’ she said wistfully. That had been before she’d witnessed firsthand his reaction to the news. Given his head, Liam would take the whole affair out of her hands, and she wasn’t going to have that!
‘I just want to support you.’ The scepticism on her face made his teeth jar together. ‘You’re not alone now.’
‘I don’t think Suzanna would be happy hearing you say that.’
‘Suzanna?’
‘The same Suzanna your letters have been full of for the last month.’ A female that
perfect
could not have
slipped his mind so suddenly. They’d always discussed their partners quite frankly, and it had never bothered her before that he’d had a lot more to discuss than she had, but then she’d never been pregnant before, which probably accounted for the intense dislike she felt for this unknown paragon of womanly virtues.
‘Oh,
that
Suzanna.’
The self-conscious flush probably meant it was serious. I’m glad for him, she decided virtuously. ‘It might complicate matters if she knows you’re a prospective father,’ she remarked drily.
‘Hell, Jo, I still can’t believe it,’ Liam said hoarsely.
Jo observed his slightly unfocused expression with sympathy. ‘It takes time,’ she admitted. He looked as though he was still in shock, and she could readily relate to that.
‘Are you well? I mean, is everything all right?’ His eyes went to the non-existent bulge of her stomach.
‘I’m not very big, am I?’ She sighed. ‘But the doctor says things are progressing normally.’
‘I meant how are
you
?’
‘I’m still throwing up, and I seem to need fourteen hours’ sleep a night. But other than that. . . ’
‘God, no wonder Dad and Uncle Bill looked at me like I’d just crawled out from under a stone.’
‘I expect your reputation as a moral crusader can stand it.’
Liam gritted his teeth. ‘I’m not talking about my reputation. I’m thinking about what you’ve been through alone!’ he billowed. ‘What is it with you? Why are you determined to paint me as some lightweight incapable of accepting responsibility?’
‘Blame it on my hormones—I do. They got me into this mess so I might as well get some mileage out of them,’
she quipped a bit nervously. He was taking this even more badly than she’d anticipated.
‘
I
got you into this mess, as my father and yours will no doubt point out.’
She frowned. ‘I hope you’re not going to suggest anything stupid like getting married,’ she said suspiciously. ‘I’m prepared to make a lot of sacrifices for this baby, but there are limitations!’
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
‘Y
OU’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.’
‘Not even to Manchester,’ she reminded him. ‘If we’re talking priorities. . . ’ She could see from his expression that her jibe had hit home.
‘I
have
to go,’ he bit back. ‘If I could avoid it I would. I know the tuning stinks, but I’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll talk.’
‘I’ll be at work tomorrow.’
‘Stay here and wait for me.’
He had a very elegant way of moving, but Jo was in no mood to appreciate the aesthetic beauty of his retreating back. Maybe Liam was accustomed to people jumping when he started flinging his orders about, but he’d discover she wasn’t one of them. Wait here for me indeed!
 
‘Thanks, Justin, you don’t have to do this, you know.’
‘Despite the way things turned out, Jo, I hope we can still be civilised,’ he replied rather stiffly. But then Justin, she reflected, never had been a casual person.
‘I’m really grateful,’ she said warmly as he stacked the books she passed him into a packing case. She looked around the half-empty office with sad eyes. To her mind her personal imprint was already vanishing from the small room along with the pot plants and books.
‘I wish you’d let me speak to my colleague about unfair dismissal proceedings,’ he said with a disapproving frown. ‘It’s all most irregular—you deserve compensation.’ His legal bram disliked seeing her waste an opportunity for recompense. ‘I’d represent you myself, but it’s not my field.’
Jo was touched by his offer. ‘No, I’ve thought about it and I don’t want to,’ she said firmly. ‘Besides, they were very careful
not
to say, We’re sacking you because single parents aren’t good for the image of MacGrew and Bartnett,’ she recalled bitterly. No, it had been all exquisitely polite. ‘There was only ever a verbal agreement that I’d be offered the partnership this year—you know that, Justin. They didn’t actually sack me—I could have accepted a demotion.’
‘But they knew you wouldn’t.’
The shake of her head conceded this. It hadn’t mattered to her four years ago that she’d been taken on as a token female in the well-known, but deeply conservative, firm of accountants. She had been given an opportunity to show how good she was at competing with the very best. She’d thrived on the competition.
Up until now it had seemed her tactics had paid off, she’d made her mark. She’d been so good for business that
she had been unofficially told she was about to be offered a partnership. At twenty-seven, she would be the youngest partner they’d ever had. That was until she’d been summoned into the boardroom that morning. A ‘reduction in her workload’ was the way they’d put it.
‘Well, I think their whole attitude belongs in the Dark Ages,’ Justin said sternly.
Despite her simmering anger and sense of injustice, Jo almost smiled. She’d never imagined she’d see the day when the ultra-conventional Justin would side with contemporary morality. Despite his looks, which made him appear rather dangerous and dashing, he really was an old-fashioned traditionalist at heart. In reality he was only dangerous in a court of law, where, by all accounts he was a ruthless litigator. Justin was a classic example of the welltried maxim ‘Don’t judge a book by the cover’, she reflected.
She cursed as the pile of papers she was carrying slipped to the floor. She dropped to her knees and began gathering them up. Justin joined her; she was rather surprised he was risking getting dust on his immaculate pinstriped trousers. Justin took a great deal of pride in his appearance and she doubted he ever wore anything that hadn’t been exclusively tailormade for him.
‘I can’t understand how you’re being so calm. When I suggested we get married, your work was the reason you gave for turning me down. Now just a few months later here you are jobless . . pregnant.’
Barefoot and starving, she silently added. ‘Thanks, Justin, it had slipped my mind,’ she responded drily.
‘I thought giving you an ultimatum, walking out, would bring you to your senses. I never thought. . . ’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘It didn’t even occur to me this would
happen. I wanted a child, it was you who said you weren’t ready,’ he accused, his voice thickening.
‘I’m so sorry, Justin.’ Recognising the depth of his feeling, she touched his shoulder. She’d never actually thought he’d take his moral blackmail to its logical conclusion, and when he had she’d been devastated.
Justin looked at her hand. ‘Things could have been so different,’ he said, covering her hand with his.
‘Oh, Justin!’ What could she say? She hadn’t been able to commit herself to a more formal alliance even to save their relationship. The sense of loss was still there, but time had given her a fresh perspective on the situation and she found she could hardly recall the raw emotions of their traumatic parting now.
I must be shallow and fickle, she concluded miserably. What she’d felt for Justin had just never been going to lead anywhere; her feelings had been too superficial. She could hardly believe now she’d been so traumatised.
‘I wish it was my baby you were carrying, darling.’
I don’t, Jo realised guiltily. The strength of her certainty came as something of a shock.
‘Well, it isn’t, mate, it’s mine.’ Liam was watching the tender scene with a distinctly jaundiced eye.
‘Liam, what are you doing here?’ This guilt thing was getting rather tiresome.
‘The question is what are
you
doing here? I thought we arranged to meet back home this morning!’
‘You
arranged,’ she told him pointedly. ‘I can’t put my life on hold while I wait for you to put in an appearance.’
‘From what I hear, your life, at least professionally, has been put on hold. Couldn’t you just do
nothing
until I got back? Have you really handed in your notice?’
‘Call me peculiar, but I don’t feel I’m cut out to be the
office junior,’ she snapped back, placing her sheaf of papers back on the desktop
‘They made it that obvious?’
‘It’s constructive dismissal.’ Jo was grateful for Justin’s intervention; the last thing she felt like doing was explaining the whole saga yet again.
‘I didn’t ask you! What’s he doing here anyway?’ Liam asked Jo belligerently after dismissing Justin with a sneer. ‘And what sort of idiot lets a pregnant woman go heaving around packing cases?’
‘How dare you talk to Justin like that?’ she gasped incredulously. ‘I know you’re not exactly happy about the situation, but it doesn’t give you the right to abuse my friends. For your information I asked Justin to help me.’ This wasn’t strictly true but Liam needed putting in his place with a firm hand.
Justin stood up, flicked an imaginary speck of dust off his dark trousers and straightened the rose in his lapel. ‘I expect Jo was looking to her more
reliable
friends.’
This blatant provocation took Jo’s breath away and she suspected Justin might be regretting it too. Liam was looking quite simply murderous. Broad-shouldered and lean-hipped, his long-legged frame was physically intimidating, she had to admit. The black leather jacket, white tee shirt and jeans he wore served to emphasise the stark contrast between the two men. Whilst it might have been Justin’s looks which had initially attracted her, it had been the undemanding nature of their relationship which had kept them together. By comparison Liam was a
very
demanding and unreasonable sort of man.

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