> ‘Because I’ve been having doubts for days.’
‘So you think we should have this baby.’
‘Yes.’
‘But we don’t like each other,’ she said, knowing she was grasping at straws but trying to buy some time to absorb the enormity of where the conversation was heading.
His eyes glittered. Darkened. ‘Don’t we?’
Celia shivered at the heat that flared in his eyes but ignored it because the situation was complicated enough without adding chemistry into the mix.
‘We live miles apart.’
‘So move in with me.’
She gaped at him. On what level would that be a good idea? ‘No.’
‘Then how about into the house next door to me?’
‘What?’
‘I own it. I rent it out, but I can give the tenants notice and you can move in. Rent-free.’
‘No way.’
‘All right. Pay the rent. I don’t mind. But it would be convenient, don’t you think?’
‘You’ve given this some thought.’
‘None at all,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘I’m doing this very much on the hoof. But we have resources. Lots of them. The obstacles aren’t insurmountable.’
He was formidable, she thought with a shiver. Determined and assertive and just a little bit overwhelming. Which was odd because a couple of months ago these weren’t words she’d have used to describe him, although presumably he wouldn’t have created a business worth millions if he hadn’t been.
The combination was also very attractive, and she wished she could go back to thinking him laid-back, shallow and debauched because somehow those characteristics seemed a whole lot safer than the ones she’d seen in recent days.
With not a small amount of formidable determination of her own she pushed aside the realisation that she found him way more attractive now than she ever had before and concentrated on the conversation.
‘I have a place of my own,’ she pointed out, telling herself that just because what he suggested made frighteningly good sense it didn’t mean she was ready to abandon her highly valued independence just yet.
‘You have a pristine flat up four flights of stairs and there isn’t a lift. Think about it.’
She did, and at the vision of herself struggling up them with a pushchair could see his point, not that she was going to admit it because the speed with which things were going if she did she could well find herself moved in to his house next door by the end of the week. ‘How did you get to be so practical?’
‘I always have been. You just haven’t noticed.’
Seemed she hadn’t noticed quite a bit. ‘You’re not going to suggest we get married or anything, are you?’ she said, with the arch of an eyebrow and the hint of a grin.
He froze, a look of horror flashing across his face. ‘Do you want me to?’
‘God, no,’ said Celia with a shudder, although part of her wondered what he’d have done if she’d said yes. ‘My parents only married because my mother was pregnant with Dan and look what happened there. And despite the mess they made of things, and the effect it could have had on us, Dan and I have turned out pretty much OK, I think.’
The tension eased from his body and he shot her a quick smile. ‘You turned out more than OK.’
‘Nevertheless,’ she said, going warm and knowing that annoyingly it had little to do with the heat of the midday sun, ‘if we have this child you do know it would tie us together for ever, don’t you?’
‘Only in one respect. We’d still be free to pursue our own interests.’
No need to ask what those interests would be, she thought a bit waspishly as those photos of scantily clad Sardinians flashed into her head and the heat inside her faded. ‘It would seriously cramp your style.’ Not to mention hers, because, even though she didn’t have much of one at the moment, at some point in the future she’d like to meet someone who didn’t think of marriage as a fate worse than death.