The Pregnancy Proposal
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Helen Bianchin
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19,8K
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11
CHAPTER ONE
SURPRISE, shock, were only two of the emotions swirling inside Tasha’s head as she walked from the doctor’s office and slid in behind the wheel of her car.
For seemingly endless minutes she sat staring sightlessly through the windscreen as the words echoed and re-echoed inside her head.
Eight weeks pregnant.
How could she be pregnant, for heaven’s sake?
A tiny bubble of hysterical laughter rose to the surface. She knew the how of it… She just didn’t understand why, when she’d taken the Pill as regular as clockwork and never missed.
Nothing was infallible, the doctor had informed as he listed a few exclusions. One of which proved startlingly applicable, pinpointing a nasty gastric-flu virus that had laid her low for a few days when she hadn’t been able to keep anything down.
Including the Pill, obviously. Sufficient to throw protection from conception out the window for that month.
Dear heaven. The groan was inaudible as it echoed in her mind. What was she going to do?
She was twenty-seven, a corporate lawyer. A good one. She had a career, a partner. Her life was carefully planned…
Pregnancy wasn’t on the agenda.
She closed her eyes, then opened them again.
Jared. Her heart lurched in tandem with her stomach. What would his reaction be?
One thing was sure…his surprise would match or outstrip her own.
How would he accept fatherhood?
A few differing scenarios swept through her mind, from enthusiasm and warmth, support…to the opposite end of the spectrum.
No, a silent voice screamed from deep inside. Termination was out of the question. Without thought she placed a hand to her waistline in a gesture of protective reassurance.
There could be no question this child was Jared’s…but it was also hers. And no matter how Jared viewed its existence, she intended to have it. Life as a solo mother wouldn’t be a piece of cake, but she’d manage.
What if Jared proposed marriage? Oh, sure. Pigs flew, and cows jumped over the moon!
There was little doubt he viewed their relationship as permanent…well, as permanent as any intimate liaison could be. Commitment, sans the sanctity of marriage.
Until now, she’d been fine with the arrangement.
Except there was a third life to consider in this equation. Decisions would need to be made. Only then would she know which direction her life would take.
Without thinking she instinctively reached into her bag and retrieved her cell-phone, only to pause as she keyed in the first digit, then disconnect the call.
Jared was due in court this afternoon, and his cell-phone would be switched through to his rooms. Any direct contact would have to wait until this evening.
Besides, this sort of news should be imparted in person, not via a telephone!
She could, she decided, plan a special candlelit dinner, dress in a provocative little number, be openly seductive during the main, then deliver the news over dessert.
But not tonight. An unladylike curse slid from her lips with the sudden realisation they were due to dine out. A Law Society soirée, one of many organised throughout the year for differing reasons.
Tasha stifled a slip into black humour at the thought of imparting her news sotto voce as they mixed and mingled with the city’s legal scions in the foyer of the grand hotel. Perhaps she could convey the information in a seductive whisper between the soup starter and the entrée?
He might very well choke, whereupon someone would have to administer the Heimlich manoeuvre…and that would never do.
Better, perhaps, to be more circumspect. She could always call into a babywear boutique, purchase a pair of white knitted bootees and place them on his pillow. How was that for subtlety?
Tasha’s mind unconsciously slid to the man who was causing her so much grief…and didn’t know whether to smile or shed a few tears at the reflection.
Jared North was known as one of Brisbane’s most sought-after barristers. In his late thirties, he was a brilliant man in his chosen field with the verbal skill to reduce the most hardened criminal to an insecure incoherent in the courtroom and tear the defence attorney’s testimony to shreds.
She’d first met him three years ago at a dinner for the legal fraternity. His reputation preceded him, and, while she’d seen his photo in newspapers and magazines, nothing prepared her for seeing the man in the flesh.
One look across a crowded room was all it took, and her insides began to melt. Tall, broad shoulders, the way he wore his impeccably cut suit set him apart from his associates. Hewn facial features sculpted by nature’s hand gifted him a strong jaw, wide cheekbones, a perfectly symmetrical nose. Muscle and skin assembled to provide almost a Latin look, a throwback it was said to his maternal Andulusian ancestry. But it was the eyes, well-set, dark and knowing as sin, that pulled a woman in. There was the promise of innate sensuality and unbridled passion beneath the sophisticated façade. And something else she recognised at a base level, but didn’t care to define.
That night it was as if the room and its occupants faded from the periphery of her vision. There was only the man, and an awareness that fizzed her blood and sent her heart racing to an accelerated beat.
He crossed the room, slowly weaving his way towards her, pausing momentarily as one associate or another sought his attention. But his gaze caught and held her own, his intention clear as she waited for him to join her.
Afterwards she had no clear recollection of their conversation. Instead, she heard only the deep timbre of his voice, an intonation that hinted at education abroad. She became fascinated by his mouth, the sensual curve of his lower lip, the warmth portrayed when he smiled.
An astute, clever and dangerous man, she perceived, instinctively aware even then he would have a profound effect on her life.
After three months of dating Jared suggested she move in with him. Tasha opted to wait six months, unwilling to leap too soon into a committed relationship where lust formed a large part of its foundation.
Now, two years down the track, they shared his luxurious apartment in one of Brisbane’s prestigious inner suburbs overlooking the river.
Life was good. Better than good. They devoted a lot of time to their individual careers, and each other, socialising on occasion. There was an apartment on the Gold Coast, less than an hour’s drive south, where they frequently escaped for the weekend. Sun, sand and relaxation, it provided a different lifestyle to the one they each led through the week.
At no time had marriage been mentioned.
Tasha didn’t want it mentioned, unless it was for the right reason…love. The everlasting, ever-after kind.
The beep from her pager was an intrusive sound, and she reached for it, read the message to call her office, and retrieved her cell-phone.
Minutes later she fired the ignition, eased her BMW out from the medical centre car park and gained the arterial road leading into the city.
It was a glorious day, the sky a clear azure with the merest drift of cloud. Lush green lawns, late-spring flowers provided colour and there was the promise of summer in the sun’s warmth.
Brisbane’s city-scape loomed in the distance. Splendid architecture in varying office towers and apartment high-rises of concrete, glass and steel. The wide river was a focal scenic point, together with a university, arts centre and the bustling Southbank with its many attractions.
Within minutes Tasha turned into a private key-operated inner-city car park, then drove to her allotted space and took the lift to the fifteenth floor.
The receptionist manning the front desk resembled a model from Vogue magazine. An admirable reflection of the head partner’s dictum professional image was everything. Amanda certainly aided that, and then some.
‘Your two-thirty appointment is delayed; you have messages on your desk.’
‘Thanks.’ Tasha summoned a smile in acknowledgement as she passed through Reception en route to her office.
Work proved a necessary distraction, and she checked her appointment schedule, ensured her secretary had the requisite paperwork ready for perusal, and gave instructions for three follow-up calls.
Two client consultations and a late-afternoon meeting brought the working day to a close. Something she viewed with relief, for her powers of concentration seemed to have zoomed off to another planet.
There had been moments when she was totally focused, others when a coloured illustration of a tiny foetus from the pages of the doctor’s medical book proved a haunting intrusion.
So tiny, so alive.
For a moment she stood perfectly still, consumed by a fierce protectiveness that drove out rational thought.
Then she extracted her briefcase and slid in printouts with various notations she needed to examine in preparation for a meeting tomorrow, collected her laptop, walked out to the foyer and took a lift down to the car park.
The best thing to be said about peak-hour traffic was that it moved… This evening, the speedometer didn’t register a notch over ten kilometres an hour through the inner city.
Her cell-phone beeped, signalling an incoming text message, and she activated it while she sat waiting for the lights to change.
Jared… Delayed an hour.
Tasha wasn’t sure whether to be peeved or relieved. While there was a part of her that wanted to get Jared’s reaction out of the way, there was also a certain reluctance.
Neither of which made much sense, she determined as she garaged her car and rode the lift to their apartment.
Situated on a high floor, it was one of two sub-penthouses in a prestigious apartment block on the river with splendid views of the city.
Spacious with cream marble-tiled floors, large expanses of floor-to-ceiling tinted glass, there were oriental rugs, modern furniture in cream and beige, with splashes of colour provided by modern works of art adorning the walls.
The lounge and dining-room were large, the kitchen and utilities modern, and the master suite was a dream with its large bed and adjoining bathroom. Of the three remaining bedrooms, Jared had converted one into a legal reference library with a desk, computer and electronic equipment for his own use. Another room held a day bed, and a desk which Tasha could use for her own needs. The third bedroom was a guest suite.
Tasha crossed into the kitchen, extracted a bottle of juice from the refrigerator and poured some into a glass, drank some, then she sliced cheese onto a biscuit and ate it.
Over the past week or two she had seemed inclined to want to nibble food at frequent intervals. Another symptom of pregnancy?
She’d have to buy a book and study it, she perceived as she walked through to the master suite.
Choosing what to wear didn’t pose too much of a problem, and she tossed an elegant black evening suit onto the bed, then made for the shower.
It was a while before she emerged and, dry, a towel wound round her slender form, she began style-drying her hair. Dark sable, it tumbled in wavy curls down onto her shoulders.
Next came make-up, and she chose subtle shadings to highlight her gold-flecked dark brown eyes, then she donned fresh underwear and entered the bedroom.
Dressed, she slid her feet into black stiletto pumps which added four inches to her petite frame.
Selecting jewellery, she was in the process of fastening a pendant at her nape when Jared walked into the room.
Her gaze met his, and her stomach fluttered at the warmth evident in those dark grey, almost black eyes.
His jacket was hooked over one shoulder, he’d loosened his tie and he’d undone the top button of his shirt and removed his cufflinks.
He bore the faint shadow of a man who needed to shave twice a day, and it lent him a slightly dangerous air.
Lethal, she amended as she felt her body stir in recognition of her attraction to him.
Passion, even in its mildest form, had the ability to liquefy her bones. All he had to do was look at her, and she was lost.
His mouth curved into a musing smile as he crossed to her side.
‘Let me fix that for you.’
He was close, much too close. She felt her body quiver as his fingers brushed her skin, and she was conscious of every breath she took, the heightened sensuality as she caught the faint aroma of his cologne, the male heat that was uniquely his.
Tasha felt his hands shift to her shoulders, the brush of his mouth against the sensitive curve at the edge of her neck.
‘Beautiful.’
She caught the slight huskiness in his voice, and deliberately stepped away. ‘If you don’t shower and change we’re going to be late.’
There was a moment’s silence, then he shifted and turned her round to face him. ‘Bad day?’
The query was softly voiced, and she met his narrowed gaze with equanimity.
‘Something like that.’
‘Want to talk about it?’
Tasha shook her head. ‘We don’t have time.’
Jared caught hold of her chin between thumb and forefinger, and tilted it. ‘We can make time.’
No, they couldn’t. This was going to take a while if she was going to do it right. And there shouldn’t be any distractions or time restriction.
She knew if she said the word, he would delay their departure for as long as it took. And part of her wanted to, very much.
His presence at tonight’s event was expected. Reneging without good reason was unthinkable.
She managed a faint smile. ‘It can wait.’
He cast her a brooding look, unable to define much from her expression.
‘Really,’ she assured.
‘Later.’
It was capitulation, and she released a silent sigh of relief as he tossed his jacket down onto the bed, pulled off his tie, then began to discard the rest of his clothes.
Half an hour later she slid into the passenger seat of Jared’s late-model Jaguar and sat in silence as he traversed the ramp to street-level, then eased the powerful car towards the city.
She’d gained a reprieve. But only a temporary one. At evening’s end, Jared would have the facts and be aware of her options.
