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The Pregnancy Proposal. HELEN BIANCHINЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Pregnancy Proposal - HELEN  BIANCHIN


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late, then she drove the car to street-level.

      Traffic was heavy, with a number of vehicles heading for the city, and it was almost eight when she entered the restaurant.

      ‘I’m so sorry,’ Tasha offered as she slid into the seat opposite Eloise.

      The attractive blonde smiled and indicated her half-empty glass of wine. ‘A gentleman had the waiter bring me champagne with his compliments. And a note offering his—er—services for the evening.’

      ‘Naturally you declined.’

      ‘It was tempting,’ Eloise relayed solemnly, and Tasha bit back a mischievous laugh. She’d known Eloise since their pre-teen years when they’d commiserated over pimples, teeth braces, and lusted after the male television and movie stars of the moment.

      Relationships, they’d experienced a few, and supported each other when they fell apart. Now Eloise was happily married to Simon, and Tasha was with Jared…and pregnant.

      Tasha picked up the menu. ‘OK, what are we eating?’

      The drinks waiter arrived, and she requested chilled mineral water.

      ‘I’m driving.’ It was a weak excuse, and she knew it. ‘So am I,’ Eloise stated. ‘But one glass won’t pitch either of us over the legal limit.’

      They ordered, choosing an entrée, skipped the main, and settled on fresh fruit, cheese and crackers instead of dessert.

      ‘It’s no fun being virtuous.’

      Tasha sipped from her glass, then replaced it onto the table. ‘Speak for yourself.’

      ‘I thought Jared might have been with you.’

      ‘Disappointed?’

      ‘Not in the least. We rarely get to go out on our own.’

      ‘Without the men of the moment.’

      ‘OK, what gives?’

      Tasha picked up her glass and took a leisurely sip. ‘What makes you think anything does?’

      ‘Too many years of friendship. Are you going to talk, or do we continue to pretend nothing’s wrong?’

      Eloise would know soon enough, so it might as well be now. ‘I’m pregnant.’

      ‘You’re kidding me.’

      ‘I wish.’

      ‘What do you mean, you wish? Maybe the timing isn’t right, but Tasha…a baby. I think it’s wonderful.’ She leaned forward. ‘So when’s the wedding?’

      ‘There isn’t going to be one.’

      ‘Excuse me?’

      ‘I’m not going to marry Jared.’

      ‘This is serious stuff.’ Eloise pushed her plate to one side and leaned forward. ‘Didn’t he ask you?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And you refused? Are you insane?’

      Quite possibly. ‘I don’t want marriage just because it serves a purpose.’

      ‘Stubborn,’ Eloise declared with brutal honesty. ‘You’re being ridiculously, pathetically stubborn.’

      ‘Stubborn, huh?’

      ‘Forget the dream, and go with reality. Marry the man.’

      ‘Sure,’ Tasha agreed. ‘And wonder if it’ll last? If he’ll be enticed by the excitement of an affair…singular or plural. Consign the wife and child to one side and indulge in extramarital sex.’

      ‘Many marriages exist and survive in those circumstances.’

      ‘More fool the wives who condone them.’

      ‘You’d be surprised how many do.’

      ‘In exchange for the mansion, social and professional status, overseas trips…not to mention their husband’s wealth,’ Tasha concluded cynically.

      ‘Better the legal advantage of wife, than mistress.’

      ‘So…why not me? Is that what you’re saying?’

      ‘What will change?’ Eloise demanded. ‘You adore the guy, he clearly adores you. Dammit, you’ve lived together for two years. So, the pregnancy wasn’t planned. So what? It happened, and it can’t be undone. Well, it can, but, knowing you, you wouldn’t consider abortion as an option.’

      ‘No.’

      ‘You’ll deny your child a live-in father and the stable relationship of two full-time parents…because of stubborn pride?’

      ‘You don’t understand.’

      ‘Take a reality check, Tasha.’

      ‘You didn’t settle for anything less than love.’

      ‘If you remember, it was a rocky path to the altar.’

      Rocky was an understatement, she reflected. An engagement that was more off than on. Yet Eloise and Simon had resolved their differences, and as far as she could tell the magic that had shimmered beneath the surface was still there.

      ‘So you think I’m being a fool?’

      ‘Yes.’

      There was nothing like the honesty given from the benefit of a long friendship! ‘Yet you know I’m going to do it my way, regardless?’

      ‘I don’t have the slightest doubt.’

      Minutes later another waiter presented them with a tastefully decorated platter of fresh fruit, assorted nuts, cheese and crackers.

      ‘Enough about me,’ Tasha dismissed as the waiter took their order for tea and coffee. ‘How’s business?’ Eloise was a high-flying executive in a public-relations firm who dealt with an interesting range of clients.

      ‘Hectic.’ The attractive blonde grimaced slightly. ‘Simon’s flight arrives from Tokyo an hour before mine departs for Sydney.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘We’ll be lucky if we catch sight of each other. There’s a lot to be said for the nine-to-five daily grind.’

      ‘As opposed to fame and fortune?’ Simon dealt in corporate real estate, worldwide, setting up multimillion-dollar deals involving buildings, hotels. Formerly based in New York, he’d made his home in Brisbane following his marriage to Eloise.

      ‘I guess it would be selfish to want both?’

      ‘Not possible,’ Tasha opined solemnly.

      ‘Because there’s no such thing as a perfect world?’

      ‘Something like that.’

      It was almost eleven when they left the restaurant. The adjacent parking area was well-lit, and Eloise’s car occupied the bay next to her own.

      ‘I’ll be in touch,’ Eloise promised as she unlocked her door. ‘Take care, Tasha, and think about what I said.’

      ‘Shall do.’

      The possibility Eloise was right didn’t escape her as she followed her friend’s car onto street-level.

      It was a beautiful night, the sky a deep indigo sprinkled with stars and a sickle moon. Bright lights, colourful neon, traffic. Reflections of the sky-scape evident in the smooth waters of the city river.

      Self-castigation was not an uplifting experience, Tasha determined as she took the exit lane from the bridge.

      What was wrong with her? Why not accept Jared’s proposal, enjoy being Mrs Jared North, gift her child legitimacy, and to hell with her high ideals?

      She needed her head read. Anyone else would go eagerly into the marriage and be content with whatever Jared offered. She knew he cared for her. So what if lust was a poor substitute


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