Just a man and a woman…
Erin sat in the chair behind her desk, staring at a blank monitor screen. There was no point in turning on the computer. No way could she get her head around work today. She didn’t know why she was sitting here. Instinctive, probably, putting herself in the place where she was most comfortable, tapping out words on a keyboard. But there was only one mountainous word in her mind, blocking out the flow of any others.
Pregnant.
The shock of it drained her of any sense of purpose. She hadn’t recognised the symptoms. How could she, knowing nothing about pregnancy, and not even suspecting such a cataclysmic cause to feeling off? She hadn’t been sleeping well—too much churning over memories of Peter Ramsey. And eating too much comfort food, then feeling queasy in the morning.
It seemed reasonable to think her normal system was messed up when the contraceptive pill she’d been taking for years didn’t produce the regular monthly period, but she’d decided to check it out with a doctor, uneasy with the idea of her body not responding as it should to what had always been reliable before.
Pregnant.
She was going to be a mother.
And Peter Ramsey was the father.
Never mind that the pill was ninety-nine percent safe from falling pregnant. Peter Ramsey had beaten that percentage in two nights of intense sexual action. Or her own body had treacherously welcomed him beyond the point of stopping anything, because what had been happening between them was so…so extraordinary.
But fantastic sex wasn’t enough to make a relationship work. He didn’t like the author taking over his spotlight. Not that she wanted it. She would have been perfectly happy standing in his shadow for the rest of her life. It was her evasion of publicity that had made her so newsworthy. But evasion would probably be impossible if she was appearing at his side, so the problem would never go away.
Neither would this one.
She was now faced with having his child.
And he would probably think she’d lied about being protected from pregnancy, too.
If she told him about it.
Could she keep this child a secret from him? They occupied such different worlds. In the normal course of events, they should never meet again. It was possible…or was it, given that someone somewhere would blab about Erin Lavelle having a child and it could end up being a news story that she had no control over.
Then if Peter put two and two together, the warrior in him would fight her tooth and nail over custody, and everything could turn really, really nasty. He’d accuse her of more and more lies, hating her for shutting him out of where he had every right to be. That was definitely not a road to go down.
Besides, knowing how strongly Peter felt about fatherhood, hiding his child from him would never sit well on her conscience. It wasn’t fair, not to him and not to their son or daughter who would want to know their father.
She would have to tell him, try to work out some amicable arrangement about the future. Hopefully he would care about what was in the best interests of the child enough to put their differences aside and deal with what was important. She certainly would. This was never going to be the ideal parenting situation for either of them, but with some reasonable co-operation, maybe they could give their child the best of both worlds.
Her hand moved automatically to the top drawer of the desk, opening it and taking out the business card Peter had given her in the park—the card which had made Thomas Harper’s mother realise that her selfish possessiveness was not going to go unchallenged. She’d thrown it back on Sarah’s desk, not wanting any part of Peter Ramsey, and Erin had picked it up and kept it, secretly wanting every part of the prince she imagined him to be.
She fingered it now, remembering how confident Peter had been in the intimidating power it carried—the might of his wealth behind it. Would he use that power against her?
Her mind churned through a mess of dark, miserable thoughts. Telling him could wait a while, she finally decided. Her most immediate aim was to start looking after herself—and the baby—by eating properly, which might help her sleep better. Some exercise wouldn’t go astray, either. A walk along the beach to the shopping centre would do her good. And she needed to buy a book on pregnancy, learn what she should be doing, what was best for the baby.
Yes, that came first.
CHAPTER TEN
Seven months later…
ERIN checked that she had everything ready for the meeting; jug of iced water in the refrigerator, glasses ready on the kitchen bench, coffee percolator loaded—Jane Emerson, her agent, never drank anything else—Earl Grey tea for Richard Long, her very English editor, and a plate of assorted cookies that should please everyone. The living room was tidy, the curtains pulled back to showcase the view of Byron Bay—white sand and crystal clear turquoise water.