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      1

      ‘You’re sure? I mean, it couldn’t possibly be a mistake?’

      Maggie Rockford’s voice trembled. She could feel Oliver’s warm, protective grip of her hand tightening as she looked away from the doctor to exchange anguished glances with him. There had been so many visits here to see this highly acclaimed specialist over the months—visits prior to which she had swung perilously from hope to fear and then back again. Visits involving what had seemed like an unending raft of tests and medical procedures backed up with counselling sessions, and questions that had sometimes seemed even more invasive than the physical side of what she had been undergoing.

      Crossing London this morning in their taxi, Oliver Sanders had held both her hands in his as he had told her emotionally, ‘Whatever happens this morning, whatever we hear, I want you to know that it will make no difference to the way I feel about you. About the way I love you, Maggie.’

      But of course it would. How could it not?

      Anxiously she refocused on the doctor, who was frowning.

      Maggie shivered, her eyes blurring with the tears she had sworn she would not cry.

      ‘This mascara cost a small fortune and no way am I going to waste it by crying,’ she had insisted to Oliver when he had stood looking at her put it on.

      ‘Stop watching me,’ she had demanded uncomfortably in the early days of their relationship. Her ex-husband Dan used to lie on the bed watching her dress and put on her make-up, it was true, but things had been different then, she had been different, and in the newness of her relationship with Oliver she had felt acutely self-conscious sharing such intimacy.

      ‘There’s no need to be defensive with me,’ Oliver had told her gently. ‘All I want to do is love you, Maggie.’

      ‘There is no mistake.’ The specialist was assuring her soberly, his voice breaking into her thoughts. ‘The blood test is totally conclusive.’

      ‘No mistake!’

      Immediately she turned towards Oliver.

      His face had lost its colour, his eyes dark with emotion as he reached for her. Now she could see in his expression what secretly she had already known. Now she could see just how much this did matter to him. Her already knotted stomach tightened.

      Patiently the doctor waited for his words to sink in.

      After all, delivering news like this was part of his job, and he had learned just how to say the words so that they were properly absorbed and their meaning retained; words that could give hope, or totally destroy it. Words that in effect held the gift of life!

      When he judged that he had given them enough time, he continued.

      ‘The procedure has been successful.’

      As she focused on him Maggie could see Oliver wiping his eyes as they brimmed over with tears.

      Surely she was the one who should be crying? But somehow she felt unable to do so. The tension inside her was too great, the enormity of what lay ahead of her too big for the easy release of crying.

      ‘There is no mistake,’ the specialist repeated and this time he smiled at them both. ‘Congratulations, Maggie. You are quite definitely pregnant.’

      Pregnant! The innovative, hugely expensive private treatment she had undergone had worked, and she was carrying Oliver’s baby!

      She, who until Oliver had come into her life and believed that she had managed to come to terms with the fact that she would never have a child.

      Somehow Maggie realised that they had both stood up, and that Oliver was hugging her, his voice thick with emotion as he thanked the specialist.

      ‘Maggie you’ve done it. You clever, wonderful girl,’ he praised her emotionally.

      Just for a second Maggie felt the darkness of the familiar shadow hovering. Determinedly she pushed it away. She wasn’t going to allow it to spoil this special moment.

      Even so, her natural honesty forced her to point out to him quietly, ‘I’ve had a lot of help.’

      The specialist was opening the door and showing them out, reminding Maggie that she would need to make a series of appointments so that the progress of her pregnancy could be carefully monitored.

      Maggie eyed him anxiously.

      ‘There’s nothing to worry about, is there?’ Oliver asked the doctor, immediately reacting to her body language.

      ‘No. But of course, in view of the circumstances of this pregnancy, Maggie will need to be careful.’

      ‘I’ll make sure that she is,’ Oliver was responding fervently.

      ‘You heard what the doctor just said,’ he reminded Maggie, two minutes later, after they had checked through her appointments and were on their way out of the clinic.

      ‘Oliver,’ Maggie told him quietly. ‘There is no way I am going to do anything that might jeopardise this pregnancy. Whatever it takes for your baby to be born safely and healthily, I am going to do it.’

      ‘My baby? This is our baby,’ Oliver told her fiercely.

      Their baby. Conceived with Oliver’s sperm and another woman’s—a fertile woman’s—donated egg!

      ‘Maggie,’ Oliver challenged her insistently when she made no immediate response. ‘This is our baby.’

      The look in his

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