‘No. Why?’
She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
He carried on trying to sell the delights of Greystones, knowing that if she could see the place for herself she’d be sold. ‘And my aunt lives there, too.’
‘Your aunt?’
‘That’s right. She’s…well, she’s a very special lady.’
Catherine swallowed. She could just imagine what a protective relative would have to say about some conniving woman tricking her darling nephew into fatherhood.
‘I don’t think so, Finn,’ she said uncertainly. ‘Wouldn’t everyone find the situation a little odd?’
‘Well, of course they would. No one’s ever heard me mention you before, and suddenly here you are—pregnant with my child!’
‘Could do your street-cred a lot of harm?’ she hazarded sarcastically.
‘It’s not my reputation I’m thinking about, Catherine,’ he said softly. ‘It’s yours.’ His eyes glittered as the spectre of responsibility reared its head. He did not balk it, but faced it head-on. ‘There is, of course, one solution which would guarantee you all the respect a woman in your condition warrants.’
Utterly confused now, she stared at him in perplexity. ‘What solution?’
‘Marry me.’
There was a long, deafening silence and Catherine’s heart clenched in her chest. ‘Is this some kind of joke?’ she demanded hoarsely.
He shook his head. ‘Think about it, Catherine—see what sense it makes. It gives you security, for a start. And not just for you, for the baby.’
Perhaps someone else might have considered that offer in a purely mercenary way, but that someone else was not Catherine, with Catherine’s experience of the world.
She had never thought about her own mortality much, but right now it was foremost in her mind. New life automatically made you think of the other end of the spectrum.
What would happen to her if she died suddenly? Who would look after and care for the baby? Not her mother, that was for sure.
But if she married Finn…
She stared at him with clear, bright eyes. ‘And what’s in it for you?’
‘Can’t a clever journalist like you work it out?’ he answered flippantly, but then his voice sobered. ‘As an ex-lover I can be sidelined, but as your husband I would have a say in the baby’s life. It legitimises everything.’ His eyes met hers with sudden understanding. ‘And didn’t you say that you didn’t want what you had to endure yourself for your baby? Whatever happens, Catherine, this child will have my name—and one day will inherit my wealth.’
‘An old-fashioned marriage of convenience, you mean?’
‘Or a very modern one,’ he amended quietly.
It was a deliberately ambiguous statement. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means whatever you want it to mean. We can make the rules up as we go along.’
‘And how long is this marriage supposed to last—presumably not for life?’
‘Presumably not.’
‘And if you want out?’
‘Or you do?’ he countered coolly.
‘Either. If the situation between us is untenable in any way, then—’
‘Aren’t you jumping the gun a little? Why don’t we save the big decisions until after the baby is born?’