His right hand fidgeted, always a give away when he was irritated. “No. You need to rest. You’re still too pale.”
“Rest?” Anger swirled like a red haze through her mind. “I’ve been resting all day. I want to do something. I need to do something or I’ll go crazy.”
“Go read a book, watch a movie.”
“I want to help you.” He just didn’t get it, she thought in frustration. After spending her day wandering around like a lost soul, she’d looked forward to him coming home. The prospect of an endless evening with only her own company stretched before her like an echoing void.
“I said no. Look, if you really want to do something to fill your days, pick a room upstairs and turn it into a nursery. We’re going to need it eventually. Maybe the turret room, since that’s closest to the master suite, then the nanny can have the room next to it.”
“Nanny?” The word nursery had been enough to turn her blood to ice in her veins, but nanny elicited a gut deep response she didn’t want to identify.
“For when you’re gone, Holly.” Connor explained with pseudo patience. “I’m going to need a nanny.”
He turned and went inside. His exit hit her like a physical slap, and Holly sank to the chair behind her. Hearing him speak of a nanny in such cold and clinical terms brought the reality of this pregnancy back to her in spades. A cold clammy shiver ran down her back. She was only here to have his baby and then move on, he’d reminded her quite succinctly. He neither expected nor, obviously, wanted her to stay. And why would she? She hadn’t the faintest notion of how to be a mother. Her own had abandoned her so she had no role model there, nor had the succession of foster mothers over the years touched her heart.
The risk of pain was just too great. Losing Andrea had proven that. It was much better to lock those feelings down. Look at what loving Connor had given her. Only more heartache, and now a child she didn’t want to love—just as her mother had so obviously not wanted her.
But wouldn’t she be doing the very same thing as her mother? Wouldn’t she be just as wilfully neglectful by walking away from her baby? No, it wasn’t the same. Not the same thing at all. She propelled herself out of the seat and hurried back inside. Her baby would be loved and would be cared for. It would lack for nothing. Nothing but a mother’s love, the insidious voice in the back of her mind taunted.
She didn’t want to deal with this, not now, not ever, she thought irrationally even while knowing that at some stage she was going to have to. Nature had its own way of making a person sit up and take notice. So Connor wanted a nursery for his baby. Well, she’d give it to him. It would be the best nursery on the planet, just as she’d been the best PA he’d ever had. She’d show him it didn’t matter to her. She’d show him she could do this and then walk away. No matter what.
Connor leaned back in his chair and looked through the closed French doors to the patio where Holly still stood, her face partially obscured by the long late-afternoon shadows. He tilted his chair and rested his head against the high leather back.
Why had he baited her like that? What had he expected? That she would suddenly develop overwhelming maternal instincts and demand that she be the one caring for the baby and not some nameless faceless stranger? And what did it matter to him, anyway? It wasn’t as if he expected her to stay. To be a mother. To be a real family. Life was complicated enough without that.
Truth be told he’d been looking forward to coming home tonight, to seeing Holly. Yet, when he’d seen her all he could think about was her absolute rejection of the child she carried. This morning, before work, he’d almost toyed with the possibility they could have a normal relationship. Be a couple.
But it was hopeless—the mere thought ridiculous—that was as clear as the nose on his face. Her expression when he’d suggested she create the baby’s nursery had been filled with horror. There was no way she’d take on the task. Regret tinged with an emotion even more intangible, knotted in his gut.
He sat upright and flicked open his briefcase. Caring for Holly, beyond seeing to her good health and welfare was not an option. Going down any other road, unthinkable. He’d cared about his mother and she had gone. He’d cared about his wife, and she’d betrayed his deepest trust, totally and irrevocably.
They said you couldn’t control who you loved or who loved you. Well, maybe the latter was true, but he had news for the former. He could and would control whom he loved, and right now that began and ended with his baby.
When Connor arrived home the next evening Holly wasn’t waiting on the patio with an ice-cool drink. Even Thompson, instead of being in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to the evening meal, was nowhere to be found. Connor flung his briefcase behind his desk in his office and sank down into his chair when a loud hollow thud sounded from the second floor—a thud that sounded sickeningly like someone falling. He hurtled from his seat and headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.