‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Abigail checked again as Hunter picked up his briefcase. ‘If you want I can arrange a doctor’s appointment for you, we’ve got a bit of room for manoeuvre around 2 p.m.’
‘Just a suggestion,’ Abigail said as Hunter swore under his breath. Clearly she was made of sterner stuff because, unlike Lily, she didn’t fly off to the bathroom in tears, just laughed as they headed out of the door. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had a hangover.’
He didn’t even bother to kiss her as he left and Lily couldn’t even look up and say goodbye either. How long she sat there she wasn’t sure—certainly long enough for Hunter to make it to the TV studios because, staring in recognition, she turned to the screen as his rich deep voice reached her ears, those dark eyes flirting with a million stay-at-home wives as he somehow put the sex into the ASX. Even the interviewer was blushing beneath her heavy foundation as she congratulated him on his recent nuptials!
‘It was a very sudden wedding,’ she said. ‘Was there any reason for the haste?’
‘I’m used to making snap decisions.’ Hunter expertly deflected her. ‘And as my track record shows, more often than not I’m right.’
‘And yet, despite your success, your new wife is still working…’ she fished, but Hunter gave a seemingly bemused frown, managed, even if it was just for the audience, a dash of political correctness.
‘Are you saying you have a problem with married women working?’
‘Of course not,’ the interviewer flustered, no doubt envisioning the rating figures dropping behind her frantic eyes. ‘It’s been suggested over the weekend that there might be some more good news forthcoming…’ Her glossy smile was strained, waiting for Hunter to speak, to confirm or deny the pregnancy rumors, but he didn’t even respond, forcing the interviewer to push harder. ‘In the papers on Sunday you would have read—’
‘I’ve only been married four weeks.’ Hunter flashed a smile to the camera and surely melted every woman watching. ‘As you’ve needlessly pointed out, my wife has chosen to continue with her career. Now, I’m sure you’re viewers will understand if we have better things to do on our precious weekends than read the papers!’
‘Of course,’ she croaked, blushing furiously and shuffling the notes on her lap. ‘I see that your own company’s shares have increased by eight per cent since your marriage. Do you think investor confidence may be up—?’
‘Eight point two,’ Hunter interrupted. ‘My company’s shares are up by eight point two per cent. So clearly investors have every reason to feel confident.’ There was a smile on his face, but his eyes had a warning glint in them, as if daring the interviewer to go on, challenging her to cross the line and delve into his private life further.
She didn’t!
‘Well, congratulations,’ she offered again, ‘on both counts.’
God, he was good! Even in her annoyance Lily couldn’t fail to be impressed—that interviewer hadn’t stood a chance. Still, the scrutiny unnerved Lily. It was OK for Hunter—he was used to having cameras trained on him, used to dealing with publicity and innuendo. Not only was she having to deal with the shock in the glossies that Hunter Myles had married a nobody, now they were suggesting…
Like a switch turning up the heat, the vague disquiet that till now had been bubbling unacknowledged seared into the boil of panic—the throw-away comment Hunter had made about her being pregnant jarring at her very core.
She couldn’t be!
On shaky legs Lily headed for bag, pulled out her organiser and forced herself to face an issue she’d been desperately trying to avoid.
The exquisitely tender boobs, bursting into tears at the drop of a hat, almost fainting at Emma’s recital…
She was on the Pill, for heaven’s sake, Lily reassured herself as her manicured fingers flicked the pages. They’d only had unprotected sex once and she’d had her period almost straight afterwards.
Her fingers flicked over the pages, checking and checking again, her teeth working her bottom lip as she counted down the time since her last period…six weeks ago!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘WERE you asleep?’ Flicking on the light, Hunter sat on the edge of the bed as Lily lay there, trying to accustom her eyes to the light.
‘Well, it is after one,’ Lily said, peering at the bedside clock and deliberately yawning. He’d rung to say he was on his way home around nine, but by eleven, when even if there had been an accident, surely the police would have managed to inform her, she had taken herself and what she hoped was her overactive imagination to bed with a good book. After Hunter’s harsh words that morning, she’d absolutely refused to play the part of the worried wife or aggrieved lover and ring to check where he was—and she was so glad she had. Hunter actually looked a bit put out as he undressed, but he didn’t bother to climb into the bed, instead lying shamelessly on the top and, as was his usual style, completely oblivious to the ungodly hour, turning on a CD. Picking up her book, he started to skim-read a few pages. ‘Do anything nice today?’