Expecting His Baby Read online

  She had to leave her job, before she cracked under the strain. Or—perhaps worse—withdrew all her humanity and stopped caring.

  Her gaze shifted to her notebook, the numbers mocking her with their inadequacy. If she went to work for Judd, in four months she could save enough for the vet’s assistant course. And she could hand in her notice at the fire station; she was only required to give two weeks. She’d more than proved she could hold her own in a male-dominated world; she’d be finished with a job that was pushing her to the limits of her endurance.

  Feeling her heart racket around in her rib cage, she said slowly, “I won’t commit to any longer than four months.”

  Had she been watching Judd, she would have seen triumph flare in his eyes, and as quickly be extinguished. He leaned forward. “Why only four months?”

  “Because that’s long enough to save the money I need for a course I want to take.”

  “What kind of course?” Judd rapped. After she’d briefly described it, he added, “You’ve got this all thought out.”

  “I’ve wanted to quit the station for at least six months.”

  “You never told me that.”

  “No, Judd, I never told you that.”

  “What else aren’t you telling me, Lise?”

  “That’s for you to find out,” she said, and smiled at the waitress. The meat pie smelled delicious; for the first time in days she had an appetite. She could leave her job. Start afresh. She gave Judd a brilliant smile and picked up her fork.

  He said evenly, “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand you.”

  “You’re hiring me as Emmy’s companion, not yours. So you don’t have to.”

  “When can you start?”

  “In a couple of weeks.”

  “What about your apartment?”

  “At the salary you’re paying me, I can afford to keep it—I’ll need it in four months’ time.”

  “And what if Emmy has gotten fond of you by then?”

  The smile died from Lise’s lips. “You should have thought of that before you offered me the job.” She hesitated. “Let’s be frank here, Judd. We’re using each other—you won’t have to worry about Emmy being lonely when you’re away, and I’ll save the better part of twelve thousand dollars. This arrangement, in other words, is to our mutual advantage. And I’ll be sure to tell Emmy right from the start that it’s only temporary.”

  “You’ve covered all the angles but one.”

  She knew immediately what he meant. As color mounted in her cheeks, she announced, “There’ll be no repeat of what happened in Dominica—you’ll have to agree to that before I’ll even think of moving in.”

  “You’d have to agree to it, too, Lise. You were, after all, the instigator.”

  “I wish I’d never seen that dress!”

  “Eat your French fries,” Judd said, “you’ve lost weight.”

  “Whereas you look in the pink of health.”

  “I knew I was going to see you again. I just wasn’t sure when,” he said blandly. “Were you pining for me, Lise?”

  “Get off my case.”

  He laughed. “Your hair’s just as red and your temper hasn’t suffered. What kind of dreams have you been having?”

  Lise choked on a chip, hastily gulped some wine and strove for a semblance of dignity. “Nightmares,” she said, “with you as the main character.”

  He suddenly sobered. “Emmy had one last night. Which is yet one more reason I followed you here.”

  “I don’t think I’m the person to help her with those.”

  “I believe you are,” he said with finality, and with equal finality changed the subject. “Do you come here often?” She nodded. “Alone?”

  “Not always.”

  “How’s Dave?” Judd asked, his eyes watchful on her face.

  She shivered. “He broke his arm on Monday in that warehouse fire…he could very easily have been killed.”

  Judd said with sudden violence, “Will you please take care of yourself the next two weeks?”

  She looked at him in puzzlement. “You sound very vehement.”

  “It’s an entirely accurate reflection of how I feel,” Judd said, squeezing lemon on his fish with vicious strength.

  “You’re not in love with me, Judd?”

  “Let me tell you something. I fell in love with Angeline when I was twenty-three—you were there, you must have seen how I felt about her. I worshiped the ground she walked on. But our marriage didn’t work out. The long-term effect was to immunize me against ever falling in love again. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. Once was enough, in other words.”

  “Do you still love her?” Lise blurted.

  “What would be the point?”

  Which, thought Lise, wasn’t really an answer at all. And who could blame him if he did? At the height of her modeling career, Angeline had been voted one of the ten most beautiful women in the world.

  “To get back to the dangers of your job,” Judd said tautly. “I don’t have to be in love to hate the thought of you falling six stories through a burning building.”

  Her emotions in a turmoil—because hadn’t Judd as much as admitted he was still in love with his ex-wife, a woman he had treated very badly?—Lise said, “I’m always careful. I don’t want to end up a statistic in the annual report.”

  “When’s your last shift?”

  She pulled her daybook out of her backpack, flipping through the pages. “Two weeks from today. I get off at eight.”

  “I’ll pick you up first thing Friday morning. That’ll give you time to get settled before Emmy’s off school for the weekend.”

  Two weeks from tomorrow. “You know something?” Lise said faintly. “I’m certifiably insane to have agreed to this. You and I are adults, presumably we can look after ourselves. But Emmy—I don’t want to hurt Emmy.” She leaned forward, her face passionate with sincerity. “Get someone else to look after her, Judd. Someone who’ll stay and give her the security she needs. Not me.”

  In a voice like steel, Judd said, “It’s too late to back out—you’ve agreed to come.”

  Her chips were cold and soggy, and the congealed gravy turned her stomach. Lise pushed her plate away. There was one more question she should have asked. What if she herself grew fond of Emmy? What then?

  But she hadn’t thought to ask it, and it was too late now. She’d let a man’s implacable will move her around the board as if she had no will of her own. A pawn to his king.

  Checkmate, indeed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “FINISHED with your dinner, ma’am?”

  The waitress was standing by their table. “Yes, thanks,” Lise stumbled. “No dessert, just coffee.”

  “Same here,” Judd said. As the young woman hurried off, he added harshly, “You look like your best friend just died.”

  “I’m frightened,” she whispered. “And I don’t scare easy.”

  Judd’s fingers tightened round his knife. Then he put it down, reached over and covered her hand with his own, saying forcefully, “Lise, it’ll be all right. You’ll see.”

  His palm was warm, his fingers lean and strong. As heat raced along Lise’s arm into her body, desire pounced on her, predator to prey; desire was always lying in wait for her when she was anywhere in Judd’s vicinity. “I can’t live in your house!” she cried. “I just can’t—we’re mad to even consider it.”

  “Cream and sugar, ma’am?”

  Her cup of coffee had been plunked in front of her, brown liquid slopping into the saucer. “Yes,” said Lise. “Please.”

  The waitress then presented Judd with the bill. “You two have a nice evening,” she said.

  Waiting until she was out of earshot, Judd said coldly, “You hate the ground I walk on, don’t you?”

  Did she? Was it that simple? “It doesn’t matter how I feel about you,” Lise responded with equal coldness. “Emmy is my only concern for the next four months. Emmy, not you.” She added in open challenge,
“Will she be seeing her mother in that four months?”

  “Angeline can see her anytime she chooses.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “It’s all the answer you’re getting.”

  The coffee tasted like dishwater and Lise was suddenly exhausted. She opened her wallet and threw a bill on the table. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

  “Eight-thirty Friday morning. I’ve got meetings at ten.”

  Rap music battering her eardrums, the fetid air making her dizzy, Lise stood up and pulled on her jacket. “I may emigrate to Mongolia,” she announced. “Do you think the yaks would like my dress?”

  “Anything with an ounce of red blood in it would like your dress,” Judd said. “I happen to own Air Mongolia—you can let me know what the service is like.”

  “The only way I can afford to fly to Mongolia is as a stowaway,” she said pithily. “Goodbye, Judd.”

  “See you, Lise,” he said with a grin that both infuriated and entranced her.

  She strode out of the pub and into the crisp evening air. Exhausted she might be. Ready to go home she wasn’t. Impulsively she decided to visit Marthe and tell her about the new job. It beat going back to the dishes in the sink. Or sitting on the chesterfield, along with a pile of unfolded laundry, thinking about Judd. Pulling on her mitts, Lise set off at a brisk pace down the sidewalk.

  She was near the bus stop when a man’s voice hailed her. Dave was across the street, waving at her. She dodged through the traffic, disproportionately pleased to see him. “Hi,” she said, glancing at his cast. “How’s the arm?”

  “I’ve been shifted to admin for the next month,” he said. “You know how I love filling in forms. Got time for a coffee?”

  Five minutes later they were seated in the local coffee bar, which played jazz rather than rap and served drinkable coffee into the bargain. They chatted a few minutes, then Lise said abruptly, “Dave, I don’t want you hearing this from someone else—I’m handing in my notice tomorrow.”

  He put down his mug so sharply that coffee slopped on the table. “You’re quitting.”

  “I’m burned-out. No pun intended.”

  “You could join me in the office for a while. Simple.”

  “I can’t—I need a change, Dave. A complete change. I’m sick of disasters and tragedies and night shifts. So I’m going to take a course to be a vet’s assistant.” She took a deep breath. “In the meantime, I’ve been offered a job as sort of a live-in nanny. That way I can save some money.”

  “Sort of a nanny?” Dave said quizzically.

  “Remember the little girl in the attic, three weeks ago? It’s with her.”

  “The one whose father I met in the hospital.” Dave gave her an inimical look. “I didn’t know you’d kept in touch with him.”

  “I knew him years ago—he’s my cousin’s ex-husband.”

  “You want to watch out. He looked like the kind of guy who takes what he wants and too bad about the consequences.”

  “I can look after myself,” Lise said; and wondered how true that was.

  “He didn’t like the way you and I were kidding around.”

  “Dave, it’s a job, that’s all. A job.” If she said that often enough, would she start to believe it?

  “I’ll miss you,” Dave said. “I just wish—”

  Distressed, Lise said, “I’m so sorry, Dave—but I know I’m not the one for you. Once I’m not around, maybe you’ll find someone else, you’re such a good man and—”

  “So why aren’t you interested?”

  Because a man with hair black as the night and eyes gray-blue as the sea has taught me about passion…she couldn’t possibly say that. “It’s just the way it is,” she said helplessly. “I—won’t you wish me well? And I’d really like to keep in touch.”

  He said soberly, “Take care of yourself, that’s all.”

  He was the second man to tell her that this evening. A few minutes later she said goodbye to him on the sidewalk and ran for her bus. She was burning bridges right and left, she realized with a frisson along her spine. She’d tell her aunt tonight, and tomorrow she’d hand in her notice. It really would be too late then to change her mind.

  Her aunt was home, and offered the usual cool cheek to be kissed. Lise was given a very small glass of sherry. After they’d discussed the weather, Lise said with rather overdone nonchalance, “Oh, by the way, Tante, I’m leaving my job at the fire station in a couple of weeks. As an interim position, I’m going to be a companion for your granddaughter, Emmy. I thought you might be pleased to hear that.”

  “You mean that man hired you?”

  “Emmy’s father? Yes.”

  “Lise, don’t be ridiculous—you must stay away from him! He’ll ruin your life the way he did Angeline’s.”

  “I’m not planning on marrying him, Tante.”

  “He doesn’t marry his women anymore,” Marthe said bitterly. “Just discards them when he’s done.”

  Lise said with assumed calm, “Then I’ll be a good influence for Emmy.”

  “You’re not listening to me! Let me show you something,” Marthe said, spots of color in her withered cheeks. She fumbled among the magazines on an antique cherry-wood table, pulling out a plastic folder and passing it to Lise. “This will change your mind.”

  Nervousness fluttering in her chest, Lise opened the folder. Her aunt had cut photos from society magazines and glued them into a makeshift scrapbook; each picture had Judd in it. Judd with a woman, always a beautiful woman in designer clothes, elegant and aristocratic. Almost never the same woman, Lise noticed with a sinking heart. Quickly she flipped through the pages. The pictures were undated, nor were their sources given. But why should that matter? The message was clear. Judd got around. Judd changed women as easily as he changed his clothes. What else did she need to know?

  The last photo was of a striking brunette in a Valentino gown at the opening of the opera in Milan; Judd was smiling down at her, his tuxedo emphasizing his arrogant masculinity. So this is what jealousy is like, Lise thought miserably. A knife being twisted in her heart.

  Marthe said sharply, “You’re in love with him.”

  Lise’s head jerked up. “I’m not!”

  “He won’t pay someone like you any attention. You’re not beautiful like Angeline, and you don’t have money. Nothing to recommend you.”

  It was the message of Lise’s childhood; yet it still had the power to wound. However—and this Marthe must never know—Judd had paid attention to her. For one night on a tropical island, he’d made love to her as if she were the only woman in the world.

  She wasn’t. And how that hurt.

  Drawing on all her fortitude, Lise closed the folder and replaced it on the table. “As you say, I’ll be quite safe— I’m not his type at all. And I do believe I’ll be good for Emmy.” Rather proud of herself, she added with a trace of mischief, “And aren’t you glad I won’t be wearing firefighter’s boots anymore?”

  Marthe said fractiously, “You make a joke out of everything. When I talk to Angeline, I’ll tell her how stupidly you’re behaving.”

  “How is Angeline?”

  “She’s very unhappy. Her husband, so she believes, is having an affair…I want her to come home, but she insists her place is with him.” Marthe sighed. “She’s very loyal.”

  Lise had had enough. “I must go, Tante. I’ll let you know how I get on with Emmy. Perhaps I can bring her for a visit one day.”

  “He won’t let you,” Marthe said venomously. “He’s never forgiven me for being Angeline’s mother. He’s evil, Lise. Evil through and through.”

  Evil? The man who had made love to her with such passion and generosity? Every cell in Lise’s body repudiated such a judgment. Quickly she kissed her aunt goodbye and escaped from the overstuffed room. Her heart sore, she started walking home, the images of Judd and all his elegant companions dancing in front of her eyes. Did he bring women like that home to his big stone house? How
would she bear it?

  But as Lise marched along, swinging her arms to keep warm, a small voice of reason asserted itself. Her aunt had never been known for kindness; and had doted on Angeline with obsessive single-mindedness for as long as Lise could remember. To make a scrapbook like that, to call Judd evil—surely those weren’t the acts of a rational woman.

  What was the truth about Judd and Angeline’s marriage? About Emmy’s custody? Would she ever find out?

  Two weeks later, at eight o’clock on Thursday night, Lise started to pack for her move to Judd’s. Today had been her final day at the fire station; last Saturday the crew had taken her out for dinner, and she had been touched to realize how deeply she’d carved her niche in that overwhelmingly masculine world.

  She’d neither seen nor heard from Judd in the interim. He’d be picking her up in the morning to take her to his home for the next four months. Four months. It sounded like forever. But she’d applied for the veterinary course, and the interviews had gone well; so that was something to look forward to.

  If she were honest, she was dreading the next four months.

  Snow was whirling outside the window in eddies as pale as ghosts. Maybe the blizzard would go on all weekend, she thought hopefully, and she could stay right where she was. She folded two shirts and placed them in her case, adding jeans and a couple of turtlenecks. Rummaging in the bathroom cabinet, she added shampoo and conditioner. Then she knocked a box off the shelf: her tampons. She’d need those, she thought casually, and started stuffing them in a corner of her case.

  Her hands suddenly stilled. Ice encased her heart as her brain frantically started making calculations. How long since she’d taken this box out of the cabinet? Since she’d had a period? She was overdue. Two weeks overdue.

  She counted backward on her fingers. Sixteen days overdue.

  She was never late. She could set a calendar by her cycle, she was so regular.

  No. Oh God, no. She couldn’t be pregnant. She couldn’t be.

  She and Judd had used no protection. When he’d burst into her room the night the lizard had run across her face, he’d been wearing nothing but his briefs. And it hadn’t exactly been a planned seduction. Anything but.