—Romantic Times Mothers-To-Be(31)

“Maybe it was something you ate,” Rico suggested stiltedly.

She said nothing.



He sank down on the foot of the bed, searching her pinched profile.

“Bella … we’d had a row,” he reminded her in a tense undertone.

“When I heard you’d gone off with Atherton naturally I was disturbed.”

“The senior partner in Grill’s firm is Hector’s solicitor. He put Griff in charge of informing me about Hector’s heart attack. Griff had to drive all the way down to Winterwood because he couldn’t find out the phone number.”

“How could I have known of that connection?”

“It doesn’t matter. I haven’t given you any grounds for thinking that I would behave like a tart,” she muttered tightly.

“I’m not your ex-wife and I won’t take the heat her.”

“I made a mistake,” he acknowledged tautly. Bella felt horribly confused. Deep down inside she that she was going to forgive him but somehow she just couldn’t bring herself to tell him that yet.

Loving someone who did not love you was an unrewarding road to humiliation, she reflected miserably. distrust had bitten deep, hurting her badly at a moment when she was already straggling to cope. With Rico she had no defensive shell, and part of her deeply resented vulnerability. She wanted to make him suffer and she ashamed of that fact. How could you try to punish for not loving you?

“Two mistakes,” Rico adjusted flatly in the continuin silence.

“I

shouldn’t have asked Dai to call. But it seemed such a waste—all those fabulous paintings piling up. I’m proud of what you can do with that brush.

“



His weight left the mattress. Bella curved her face the pillow, tears stinging her eyes. What a bitch she She was in the act of stretching out a forgiving hand when she heard the door open, the murmur of an unfamili voice. The doctor had arrived.



He told her to call him George. He had one of those wonderfully round faces which instilled good cheer. Rico had barely left the room when Bella found herself sitting up and reeling off her symptoms with the subdued irritation of someone who was rarely ill. She submitted to an examination and answered one or two questions which struck her as highly irrelevant when she was suffering from a stomach disorder. But no doubt George knew his business better than she did.

“You’re pregnant,” he finally delivered very quietly. Bella changed her mind about him knowing his business. “No way,” she told him, with a forced laugh at such an insane diagnosis.

“Bella, I’m a consultant gynaecologist,” he returned gently.

“And if I’m wrong I ought to be back in medical school. First pregnancies in particular carry unmistakable signs. You are at least two months pregnant.”

“But I had a—’ she began jerkily.

He explained that sometimes what he described as a partially suppressed period could occur. Bella went into cold shock while he talked to her about not pushing herself too hard and taking proper rest.

“Don’t tell him!” she begged abruptly.

He reminded her of patient confidentiality and she apologised, so shattered by what he had told her that she could hardly think straight. He paused at the door, clearly troubled by her reaction.

“Bella, Rico’s very fond of children. You should see him with mine,”

he said ruefully.

So Rico liked other people’s children. What did that mean? Feeling weak, she lay down again. Her hand slid down unsteadily to her still flat stomach. She struggled to accept that there was a baby growing inside her—a baby

conceived weeks ago while she had been convincing herself that no such conception could take place.

She had been as foolishly naY ve as an uninformed teenager, she realised. There was no such thing as a fail-safe time to make love.

There was always a risk. And Rico had ironically been far more concerned by the possibility than she had been . probably because it was the very last thing he wanted to happen.

The door opened.

“George was very cagey,” Rico said impatiently.

“It’s just a stupid stomach upset—probably that breakfast I ate at the hospital,” Bella volunteered, and forced herself to turn over and meet his enquiring gaze.

“I’m glad it wasn’t anything that could have put Hector at risk of infection. Now all I want to do is sleep.”

Just looking at Rico suddenly tore her heart in two. She searched his strong, dark face, read the relief there, and knew she deserved an Oscar for her performance—but then it was wonderful what fear could do. It sharpened the wits and in the short term chose deception over honesty. She wasn’t ready yet to share such devastating news, was already wondering how she would ever bring herself to share it.

“I’ll go back to the hospital in the afternoon,” she added, dropping her head back down on the pillow as if she were i too exhausted to stay awake.

She closed her eyes, knowing that it would take a miracle for sleep to overcome her now. For it was over—she and) Rico—over, finished, destroyed. Fate had had the last laugh: of all. Secure in the belief that there was no question of her being pregnant, Rico had been brutally frank. A baby was a complication he did not want. She told herself that she was lucky to know his true feelings on the subject.

Who could tell how he might have felt forced to react if she had discovered that she was pregnant a month ago?

Certainly he wouldn’t have felt disposed to offer marriage, but he might well have felt that sensitivity demanded that he conceal just how appalled he was by the news. She didn’t want pretences like that between them. Honesty was always the best policy, but oh, God, how it could hurt sometimes. She drove back the pain consuming her, calling herself a coward.

Their affair would have burnt out on his side anyway sooner or later.

Now it would just happen sooner and she would be the one to make the break. She had no choice.

Just as Cleo had once made Bella welcome—a child unplanned and unsupported by any man—Bella would do the same for her child. It was that simple. But she felt horribly guilty. How could she have been so reckless? Whenever she had thought of becoming a mother she had always believed that the event would take place within a stable, loving relationship.

By three in the afternoon Bella was up again under her own steam.

Incredibly she had dozed off. She showered and changed into the fresh clothes which she had flung into an overnight bag the previous day at Winterwood. Physically she felt much better but inside herself she felt dead.

She had woken up with the knowledge of what she had to do. Break it off, finish it . get it over with! Hector’s illness and her argument with Rico, which now seemed so pitifully unimportant, had supplied a natural break. When she came back from the hospital this evening she would tell him.

Since she had assumed that he was back at the bank, it was a shock when Rico strode out of the drawing room as she was heading for the hall. She froze, shielding her startled eyes with her lashes.

“You were in the shower when I came to wake you up. How do you feel?”

“Fine now,” she said stiffly.

“I’ve ordered a light meal for you.”

“Thanks, but I’m—’ ” Bella, be sensible. ” He pressed her into the dining room where a place for one was already laid at the gleaming table.

“You have to try to eat something. Hector’s fine, by the way. You don’t need to rush.”

His manservant appeared out of nowhere and a beautifully cooked omelette was slid in front of her. Her hands trembled as she reached out for the knife and fork.

“I thought you’d be at the bank,” she said once the man had gone.

“I took the afternoon off.”

She couldn’t eat; she just couldn’t eat. She replaced the cutlery again, studied the table with anguished eyes and then cleared her throat.

“You remember we decided on seeing how it went for a month?”

she whispered in a rush. “Well, it’s not working for me any more and I think you must feel—’ ” Eat before I force-feed you,” Rico broke in, as if he were talking to a difficult child.

Bella stood up and backed away from the table.

“Rico, listen to me,”

she muttered tightly, crossing her arms and turning away from him, unable to stay still.

“This is nothing to do with those stupid arguments we had..” please believe that. But sometimes a crisis makes you see more clearly—’ “You’re so blind right now, gatita,” Rico interposed in the same indulgent tone, ‘that you’d fall over your own feet. Our relationship has nothing to do with Hector’s heart attack. “



“That isn’t what I was going to say!” she protested, in so much turmoil that she couldn’t even keep her voice steady. Involuntarily her look clashed with steady dark eyes and she hurriedly averted her gaze again.

“The point is… The point is,” she repeated doggedly, ‘that two months ago we were kidnapped, and in the grip of that trauma sex got involved and—’ “Sex got involved the first time I laid eyes on you,” he proffered without shame.

“The trauma of being kidnapped had nothing to do with it.”

Bella ignored that. She didn’t trust herself to look at him, couldn’t afford to be tempted.