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a couple of weeks ago,’ she said vaguely. ‘I’ve had a burst of energy lately so I’ve been putting them up here and there. In my studio and such. You know… Getting things homely.’

      Sergio raked fingers through his hair and spared her a glance of pure frustration. ‘Did that involve climbing on ladders?’

      ‘Pregnant women climb on ladders all the time! In fact it’s practically all they do.’

      ‘And have you been eating when I haven’t been there?’

      Accustomed to living a life of complete independence—a life of frankly not giving a damn what other people thought of him—he was brought up short at the way it had been whittled away at the edges ever since she had announced that he was going to be a father. On the other hand, strength lay in the ability to adapt. He had adapted. It was a means to an end.

      ‘Of course I have.’

      But in between the sudden burst of spring cleaning energy and tying up the final bits of her commission she realised that food had taken a back seat. Or at least robust meals had—because when she was on the go crackers and cheese or sandwiches were always a faster option.

      ‘I’ll be moving in tomorrow. You’ve been overdoing things. And you may be prepared to take chances but I’m not. Let’s get something clear right now. This isn’t just about you. You’re going to have to deal with that whether you like it or not.’

      ‘But it’s not necessary for you to move in!’

      ‘I’ll drop you back home and you can get some sleep. I’ll be with you first thing in the morning to make sure that you eat your breakfast.’

      ‘And do you intend to take time off work to supervise my lunches?’

      ‘Now that you mention it, I can work from the house—so, in answer to your question, quite possibly. You want to behave like a child, then expect to be treated like one, Susie.’

      ‘I haven’t been behaving like a child and I don’t want you around all the time, getting under my feet!’

      Was that what he thought? That she was like a kid who needed to be told which road to follow because she was too simple to choose the right one? She hated the thought that she had gone from being the woman he wanted to someone he felt he had to look after. All his consideration for her over the past few months, she thought, had removed her sexuality.

      ‘Too bad.’ Sergio’s voice hardened. ‘Needs must.’

      They drove the remainder of the way in silence. It was a quick drive, because at this hour the roads were clear. She knew that he would see her into the house, as indeed he did, and all the while she thought about him being there with her, living with her, sharing space with her, sitting in the little snug with her watching television.

      She thought about the way they had been with one another before her pregnancy had forced him to put things into perspective. And then immediately her thoughts turned to when she had been lying on that narrow, uncomfortable bed in that room, being scanned, her stomach exposed to his gaze.

      What had been going on in his mind then? Relief that they were no longer lovers? Impatience that he had had to come to the rescue because she was not independent enough to look after herself? Frustration that he had embarked on a light-hearted fling with someone out of his comfort zone just because he had liked her novelty value, only to find himself trapped with her for ever? Was he being forced to have her as an ongoing concern because of a child he hadn’t wanted in the first place?

      ‘So what time shall I expect you in the morning? Perhaps you could let me know how this arrangement is going to pan out?’

      She contemplated him lurking in the house, materialising from dark corners, turning her on and distracting her, treating her like someone who couldn’t look after herself. Treating her the way her parents and her sister treated her. When she thought like that she felt sick.

      ‘Here’s how it’s going to pan out.’ Sergio looked at her evenly. ‘I’m going to set up camp in the downstairs den. There’s a desk there already. It’ll do for when I want to use it. I’ll transfer over my desktop computer so that I have both my desktop and my laptop handy, and I’ll arrange for a dedicated line to be put in so that you won’t be plagued with calls coming through for me on your landline—although I can use my mobile well enough. How’s it sounding so far?’

      ‘Constricting,’ Susie said with utter dejection.

      He frowned at her. ‘You have the night to get used to the prospect.’

      ‘I’ve become accustomed to peace and quiet.’

      ‘I’ll make sure not to play my trumpet too loudly. You’ll thank me when this baby is delivered fat and healthy.’

      And then? she thought. What happens then? She would have become accustomed to having him around. She knew that because she was already accustomed to having him around now and he wasn’t even living with her.

      ‘And shall I…er…? Well, I feel I ought to ask this…what about sleeping arrangements?’ she asked in a rush.

      They found themselves in the kitchen and she sank into a chair and looked at him.

      ‘What about them?’

      Just like that his mind swung back to the sight of her on that bed, the bigness of her stomach, her belly button slightly protruding—the essence of the rounded, fertile woman. His woman.

      Except she wasn’t, was she?

      Currently she was a woman who was trying to have a conversation about the boundaries she could put into place to spare herself the discomfort of having him under her feet. His mouth tightened, but he wasn’t going to get involved in a row with her. Stress came in different guises, and he wasn’t going to stress her by arguing with her—especially not now.

      Marriage was no longer a subject under discussion. It had been efficiently and silently removed from the menu. Should he have pressed home his point in the beginning? Left her with no wriggle room? Because if they had got married he would have been able to keep an eye on her…they wouldn’t have ended up racing to the hospital in a state of flat-out panic.

      But a reluctant, bitter and resentful wife…? No, the answer did not lie there.

      Nevertheless, reluctant and resentful as she might be at his intrusion into her happy, solitary and peaceful existence here, it was still going to happen.

      ‘There are four bedrooms in this house, Susie…’ He couldn’t veil the simmering frustration that had crept into his voice at the thought of, for the first time in his life, planting himself somewhere where he wasn’t wanted. ‘I don’t think it will be an insurmountable problem if I use one of them. And if memory serves me right there are two en suite bathrooms, so there will be no danger of our crossing paths first thing in the morning with toothbrushes in our hands.’

      Susie blushed, guiltily aware that he was putting himself out for her and doing it without complaint. It would be a far more laborious commute for him to get to work in the mornings, and if he chose to work from the house, that too would be a huge sacrifice.

      Why did she always emerge feeling like the villain in the piece?

       Because she wanted so much more from him, and wanting more made her edgy…made her sound ungrateful for the little things he did…even for the big things he did. Because, however big they were, they weren’t big enough.

      ‘Just relax about it, Susie. It’s no big deal and it won’t be for long.’

      ‘Because when the baby’s born you’ll clear out?’

      ‘What else would you want?’ he asked brusquely.

      For a heartbeat, she played with the idea of throwing caution to the winds and telling him that actually what she wanted was a ring on her finger and him in bed beside her every night, for them to grow old

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