The Billionaire's Captive Bride(18)

"Sorry, Mum. I should have got back to you before this. Can't do lunch today. Erin is not available."

"Oh!" A big sigh of disappointment. "I was so looking forward to meeting her. Can we arrange something else, Peter?"

He grimaced at the unwelcome suggestion though he probably should have  anticipated it, given his mother's interest in the author. "I can't  oblige on that, either. We had an argument this morning and it's all off  between us," he said bluntly, not wanting to be pestered on the sore  subject.

"Oh dear! Just when I thought you'd found someone really nice," his  mother said wistfully. "There's so much heart in her stories … "

She hadn't shown much heart to him!

" … and the way they're told and illustrated," his mother babbled on. "She  has to have a beautiful mind to think of such things. You must have  felt attracted to her, Peter. She looks beautiful on the outside, too.  Why on earth would you let her go?"

"Mum, it's a case of her letting me go. Okay?" he bit out, hating the necessity to spell that out.

"Why? What did you do to upset her?"

Like it was his fault!

Peter unclenched his teeth enough to say, "I really don't want to go into this."

"Was it the publicity? Didn't she realise that being with you would attract media attention?"

He reached his car which was parked handily at the street kerb outside  the gym. "I said I don't want to go into this," he repeated  emphatically. "Bye, Mum."         

     



 

He broke the connection, tucked the small cell-phone in his shirt  pocket, unlocked the BMW, sat himself in the driver's seat and decided  he didn't want to go back to the apartment where memories of Erin were  far too close. Yacht Club, he thought. Sailing might help get her out of  his mind.

Over the next few weeks, Peter worked very hard at blocking Erin Lavelle  out of his consciousness, pouring his energy into dealing with business  during the day, carrying on with his usual social life at night,  playing various sports at the weekend-squash, tennis, polo. He dismissed  any questions about his relationship with her by saying Erin had wanted  to know about horse-racing. End of story.

It was a lie-a self-protective lie.

And he felt uncomfortable with it.

Especially since he could not get her out of his mind.

He was blind to the attraction of any other woman. He didn't want anyone  else in his bed. His mother's comment-beautiful inside and  outside-began to haunt him, reminding him of all the things he'd liked  about Erin. Maybe he'd made a mistake in reacting so negatively to what  might have been a self-protective lie on her part. Hadn't there been a  moment in the park when he'd felt a strong reluctance to reveal his own  identity?

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.

She had bought this beach house four years ago. It suited her, right  away from the bustle of major cities, especially for writing. She didn't  care if the animated film people thought she was some prima donna  author, insisting that they travel to her for the consultation on how  her story was to be brought to the big screen. At eight months'  pregnant, and determined on keeping that fact as private as possible,  she didn't want any fanfare about this meeting.

The publicity could come afterwards, when everything had been signed. No  doubt her editor and agent would make the most of it, eager to push  more book sales on the back of a film created by Zack Freeman who also  happened to be an Australian, and top of the tree at delivering the best  computerised special effects. He'd won two academy awards for his work.  Apparently he was now putting his creativity into animated movies. Erin  was looking forward to meeting him, wondering what he planned to do  with her story.

The sound of cars pulling up in the street outside drew her down the  hallway to the front door. A glance at her watch assured her it was time  for her visitors to arrive, just a couple of minutes short of ten  o'clock. They were all staying at the plush Bay Resort on Johnson Street  and had probably already established an acquaintance, either last night  or this morning. She took a deep breath, mentally put on her author  hat, tried to forget how ungainly she looked with her hugely swollen  belly, and opened the door.