"High cupboard?"
"Where the medical stuff is." His lips tilted against hers in a smile. "As long as they're not out of date."
Jemima frowned and then realised he was talking about protection. "It's okay. I'm on the pill." With a sigh, she opened her lips and relished the strength of his arms as he lifted her.
As though he'll never let me go.
She held his gaze as he carried her across to the bed and laid her gently on the soft sheets. She held his gaze as Ned lay beside her and sighed as he trailed his fingers over her face.
"You are so beautiful, Jemmy."
His fingers moved down to her neck, lingered on her shoulders, and she took a breath as they moved down ever so slowly.
The pillow fence wasn't built or missed that night.
In the hour before dawn, as the sky lightened outside and the mournful call of a beast echoed through the misty paddocks, Jemima lay next to Ned, nestled against his warmth, listening to his deep breathing. The number of nights she'd lain next to him over the past months, she'd never heard that deep and contented sound before. Maybe he'd lain awake like she had.
Whatever it had been, things had changed, and she wasn't sure what would happen now. But she wasn't going to worry about it.
A girl could dream.
Chapter Seventeen
Waking up in the same bed she'd slept in for the last four months was very different this morning. Jemima rolled over, but the other side of the bed was empty. She didn't know whether to be pleased or sad. She buried her face in Ned's pillow and inhaled the fresh lemon smell that lingered on the pillowcase before she glanced at the bedside clock that she'd placed on the bedside table that she'd brought over from her room at Gran's farm.
Seven thirty! Boy, had she overslept. Ned was probably out with the cattle already, and here she was, sleeping in. She tore out of bed, jumped in the shower, dried herself quickly, and threw on a pair of riding pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and grabbed a sleeveless fleecy vest.
An amused voice came from the kitchen as she ran through the living room, pulling her damp hair into a ponytail,
"Where's the fire?"
She pulled up in her tracks and turned slowly before she walked into the kitchen. Ned was standing against the sink, nursing a cup of coffee. His hair was still wet, and he was wearing his work clothes.
God, she hated the morning after, but this morning's scenario was way out of her experience. Jemima was used to being in control of her life, and the occasional night with a sophisticated person who knew that the relationship was only for the short term. This was the man she was living with. And was married to, for goodness sake.
"Um, no. I thought you'd gone out to the paddocks already."
"Slow down. There's no rush. I rang Lucy, and she's going to keep the kids there till lunchtime. She said they'd turn the barbeque on about noon."
"What did you tell her?" Jemima gulped.
"I said that we were just in for a cuppa and that there was a bit more to do than I'd realised." Jemima's legs trembled as Ned laughed and walked over to her. "Lucy didn't need to know we haven't been out to the cattle yet." His arms went around her, and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "So what are we going to do now?"
"Cut the cattle out?" Her grin was cheeky.
"No. Us. We can't get an annulment now."
Jemima laughed. "Not now we've done the deed." She was pushing logic away and enjoying the light and free feeling that had been with her since she'd woken up.
"What? The deed?" His grin was wide, and her stomach curled again. He was such a good-looking man, and it was wonderful to see him smile.
"Nothing. Girl joke."
"Anyway, seeing you had a lie in, we'd better hurry up and get out to these cattle. Do you want a quick cup of coffee?"
"No, thanks. I'll just take some water out there." She wasn't going to tell him that her stomach was churning with nerves. They would have to get a divorce, not an annulment. Ned would have to work it out. She put her hand on her tummy as it gave a funny little flip.
By the time they'd moved most of the cattle, Jemima knew that her stomach wasn't churning because of any desire to be back in the bedroom with Ned or any worry about annulments or divorces. Unfortunately, it was a bathroom that she needed. A wave of cold washed over her, and she shivered, but at the same time a trickle of perspiration ran down her neck. She pulled the water bottle from the saddle and almost gagged, and her stomach rumbled. All she could taste was pineapple.
"Are you okay?" Ned frowned as he brought his horse close to hers. "You're very pale."
"I do feel a bit sick," Jemima said as her cheeks heated with embarrassment. "I think I've eaten something that's disagreed with me."
"Head back to the house. I'll be finished here in less than half an hour."
"Thanks. I'm sorry to let you down." She gave him a weak smile and pulled Monty's reins to turn back to the house.
By the time she'd dismounted, put Monty away, and made it to the house, her stomach was really hurting. Jemima put her hand against it and headed for the bathroom, but the phone trilled in the kitchen.
For a second, she thought of ignoring it, but as she glanced at the digital display, Lucy's name flashed up.
"Hello." Her voice was weak, and her head spun as she picked up the phone.
"Jemmy? I just rang to see if you and Ned are okay. I think something on the pizzas must have been off. Everyone over here is sick-except me."
"Oh no." Jemima straightened. "How bad are the kids?"
"They're okay now. They each had a vomit. I gave them a bath, and the three of them are asleep now. Poor little Ryan was crying for Ned."
"I'll send him over as soon as he gets back in. And Lucy, it was the pineapple. It's all I can taste. Oh no, I have to run." She threw the phone down and ran for the bathroom.
…
As it turned out, Ned and Lucy were the only ones who hadn't eaten the ham and pineapple pizza. Lucy was full of apologies when Ned went across to pick up Kelsey, Gwennie, and Ryan.
"Daddy!" His little boy snuggled into him. "I was sick. Two times."
"I'm so sorry, Ned. That pineapple must have been in the freezer for longer than I'd thought." Lucy frowned as she held Kelsey and Gwennie's hands.
"Don't worry. Everyone's okay now."
"What about Jemmy?"
"She's asleep. She managed to get a cup of tea down and went back to bed." Ned opened the car door and strapped Ryan into his seat. "Come on, girls. We'll get you home."
"Oh, I feel so bad." Lucy put her hand to her mouth, and Ned walked over and hugged her.
"Don't be silly. These things happen." He grinned at her. "But we might give pizza a miss for a while."
Kelsey and Gwennie chattered as they drove the short distance through the back gate of Garth and Lucy's farm, via the shortcut via Prickle Creek Farm, and then across the road to Daniela.
"Daddy, why did Grandpa call the farm, Daniela?" Gwennie asked as they drove through the front gate. Amazing how quickly kids bounced back; poor Garth was still in bed, like Jemmy.
"I don't know. We'll have to ask him next time they ring up."
"Maybe Nanny and Grandpa could come up for another visit," Gwennie suggested.
"Maybe," Ned agreed. But he wasn't really keen on the idea. He knew his parents would love Jemima. It would be better to keep them away until she'd left. So many damn complications had surfaced that he hadn't even thought of when he'd come up with this plan.
Not least them sleeping together last night. In the afterglow after last night, he'd joked about not being able to get an annulment, but sleeping with Jemima had caused a problem. Now they'd have to divorce.
"Where's Jemmy?" Kelsey asked as though she'd read his mind.
"She's lying down. I want you all to be quiet when we go inside in case she's still asleep."
"Poor Jemmy," Gwennie said. "I hope she's all right. Daddy, I do love her."
Ned froze as his daughter's voice came over the seat. His stomach clenched, and for a minute, he wondered if he was getting sick, too. But he knew it was Gwennie's words that had done it. I do love her?
Ned's hands gripped the steering wheel.
What have I done?
Sleeping with Jemima last night had been foolish and unfair to her when he had no intention of making this a permanent relationship. He couldn't afford to get emotionally tied to her, and after last night, he was going to have to fight that very thing.
Gwennie's words wouldn't leave him as he drove towards the homestead. I do love her. So much for his "exit strategy" of Jemmy not being affectionate with the kids. That obviously hadn't worked.
Ned stifled a groan. What the heck was he going to do? He'd stuffed things up well and truly. The happiness and contentment that had filled him this morning when he'd woken up beside Jemmy was replaced by regret and worry. The farm was going well, but the means he'd used to get there was going to cause a lot more complications than he'd ever considered.