But this?
Passionate declarations of love for a baby he’d just heard about?
“What do you have to lose, agape?”
Looking into his eyes, the answer terrified Imogen. At the time, that seemed obvious. Surely her heart was the only thing that was on the line. It never occurred to her that anything more sinister could come from agreeing to his proposal.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “We’ll give it a try.”
His smile was earth-shattering. Even, white-teeth revealed by fully parted lips, and a dimple on one cheek. “You won’t regret it.”
Imogen just hoped they wouldn’t be famous last words.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT HAD BEEN a mistake.
It was the first thing he thought when he arrived home and saw her through the glass balcony, propped beside the pool in just an emerald-green bikini. She was still slim, but he could detect the hint of roundness in her stomach that spoke of the growing life inside of her.
And his gut clenched.
Did she have any idea how much her pregnancy meant to him? This baby. This little life that he would love and protect with all of him?
She had earphones in and her eyes were shut, which allowed him extra time and space to observe her.
Her blonde hair was piled high on her head in a sort of bun, with little spikes coming out of it at erratic angles. It was chaotic and soft, a little like Imogen. In the weeks since she’d moved in with him, he’d come to know three things for certain.
She really did rise at dawn, every day. Those early hours when he usually did a work-out and read the paper solo were now accompanied by the silent heating of the kettle, and the yoga stretches she did in the lounge area. She was diligent with her yoga, and very, very bendy. He’d even walked in on her standing on her head one morning and it had taken all his will-power not to tickle her small, bare feet.
He also knew that she liked to read, and her tastes were as varied as they were voracious. He’d found books on child-rearing, London history, fiction novels that were either horror or romance, and a text book on architecture scattered through the apartment. And she was a bit of a scatterer. The apartment had more of a lived-in feel than ever before. Her sweater tossed over the back of the lounge, a blanket discarded on a seat, books littering tables. Somehow these little signs of occupation made him smile, almost as much as the discovery that she’d sourced her books from the local library. She’d joined up on her first day in town, she’d told him.
The third thing he knew, and it was something that had started to worry him, was that he could see why he’d got her into bed. Even in his ridiculously inebriated state, he’d wanted her.
And that same desire was curling incessantly around him now, digging her into his mind in a way that was dangerously close to an obsession. Surely it was just because of the baby growing in her belly. That was doing strange things to his biology, making him obsess about the fact he’d possessed her and given her this child.
That was all. Some strange, genetic, pre-programmed throw-back of masculinity and ownership. Something almost animalistic; it was beneath him. He wouldn’t indulge it.
As he watched, she stretched her arms high over her head, her body tensing as she breathed in deep, her breasts thrusting forward, her tummy sucked in, a relaxed, beatific smile playing about her rosebud lips, and then she breathed out, and blinked her eyes open at the same time.
By some twist of accident rather than design, they landed straight on him, catching him staring from just inside the glass doors, as though he’d temporarily become incapable of movement or speech.
Her lips parted slightly and colour stole into her cheeks.
Jesus.
This idea had definitely been a mistake. He pushed outside reluctantly, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“You’re not too warm?” He asked, rushing over the awkwardness of the moment.
“Uh uh,” she shook her head, and now her smile was more natural, as though she too was willing to gloss over the way he’d been drooling. “How was work?”
“Fine.” He waved a hand through the air, dismissing the day. “The usual.”
“You know, I don’t really have any idea what it is you do. Except, you know, buy airlines or whatever,” she said thoughtfully, then drew in a large breath and excitement ran across her features as she sat up straighter. “But, I can tell you something exciting about my day!”
“What?” How could he help but smile at the sweet innocence of her enthusiasm?
“I spoke to a woman who runs a little Montessori daycare centre just a few tube stops away and she needs someone urgently to cover for a few months. I’m going to meet with her tomorrow.”