Baby's On The Way!: Bound by a Baby Bump / Expecting the Prince's Baby / The Pregnant Witness. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.
more than friendship from her. He was already getting so much more than he had wanted. One night with this woman had already brought one lifelong commitment. A thought that still made him breathless—and not in a good way. It was crazy to embark on anything romantic, because what else could that bring other than more commitment? They could hardly date and see how it went. Because where did they go when one of them realised that it wasn’t going to work out? Or what happened if she started thinking about a future and a ring, and he started to sweat? They should just concentrate on being the best parents that they could be, and try to be friends, as well.
But, God, she looked delicious. Her body curved in new places, her breasts were bigger, and her belly rounded. His child was growing in there, he thought, his mind boggling. He dragged his eyes away, though, realising suddenly that it probably wasn’t brilliant form to ogle someone while they were in hospital, whatever the reason.
That thought sobered him. Because this scan wasn’t just a chance to wave at the baby and hope that he or she waved back. He’d been reading up about what they should be expecting. And so he knew that the ultrasound was done for serious reasons, that it was for the medical professionals to check for health problems. That thought gripped him with a twist of anxiety and without thinking he reached for Rachel’s hand. She flinched, though whether it was from him gripping her hand or from the gel being squeezed on her belly he couldn’t be sure. But she squeezed his hand back and looked up to meet his eye. When she gave a little smile, he realised that she was as nervous as he was.
He watched the screen as the technician manipulated the ultrasound wand, and saw black and white shadows moving. He squinted, trying to make out what was what, but it wasn’t until the technician pointed out the tiny head and limbs that he finally understood he was looking at his child. His son or daughter.
He’d spent so long thinking about all the ways his life had to change now, about the fact he’d woken up one morning and found himself painted into a corner, forced into fatherhood whether he wanted it or not, that he’d never stopped to consider that he and Rachel had done something so...so...miraculous. It was the only word he could grasp as he looked at the tiny life on the screen. A whole new life, created from nothing but the urgent, overwhelming desire of that night.
And seeing that miracle, and the one on Rachel’s face as she saw it, too, the undisguised incredulity and rush of happiness, he couldn’t help but be deliriously happy with her. Or help the tear that slid from the corner of his eye. It wasn’t that he wasn’t stomach-churningly terrified still, he just realised that that fear didn’t have to be all-consuming. He could be worried to his bones about what effect this little child would have on his life, but still be absolutely, unbelievably happy that they’d made their baby.
He squeezed Rachel’s hand a little harder, and she turned her face towards him, her eyes and cheeks lit with happiness and wet with tears.
As he watched, another tear snuck from the corner of his eye, and he smudged it away with his thumb.
‘Everything looks good here,’ the radiographer announced, breaking the silence and passing Rachel a tissue to clean off the gel.
The intimacy between them suddenly lost, Leo turned away, offering her some privacy.
They strolled from the hospital into the park opposite still dazed with happiness.
‘Rachel, you know I’m sorry, don’t you, that we didn’t get to share this before? That I would have given anything to have been here.’ He reached for her hand, needing the physical contact, desperate to know that they were back to being friends. That everything was right between them again.
To his surprise, she smiled, looking up at him, her eyes still a little damp. ‘I know. I know that you tried, and I should have forgiven you a long time ago. I thought that I...that the baby...that we didn’t mean enough to you. But I know that I was wrong.’
Didn’t mean enough to him? He didn’t know how it would be possible for anyone to mean more. Somehow his whole world had shrunk and expanded until Rachel was the shape of his whole future. He stopped walking, and held onto her hand a little tighter.
‘Rachel, you have to know, you and the baby, you’re everything. There are still days where I feel like I’ve got no idea how we got here, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. Wouldn’t wish for anything but what we have.’
His free hand brushed away another tear, just sneaking out from the corner of her lashes.
‘I felt so alone—’
‘And it kills me even thinking about it.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I didn’t say it to make you feel worse. It just made me realise how much I wanted you there. How much I wanted us to see our baby together. How much it means to me that we get to share this. It wasn’t that I wanted someone there, Leo. I wanted you.’
He drew her close, swiping another tear as she hid her face in his chest.
‘I feel the same,’ he said into her hair. ‘And it’s frightening and exhilarating and it reminds me how much there is still to learn about this whole family thing. But we can do this, Rachel, and we can be brilliant at it. Be parents. Be more than that to each other.’
He dipped his head and pressed his lips to her mouth. It was quick and soft and sweet, and as he rested his forehead against hers he couldn’t think of a moment in his life when he’d been more content than this. With his baby’s heartbeat echoing in his ears, with Rachel’s skin warm against his and the memory of her lips smiling against his fresh in his mind. All the reasons he’d fought this romance seemed to slip away. Every objection to keeping this woman at the centre of his life—the space she’d occupied since the moment they’d met—faded. The important thing, the only important thing, was that they faced their lives together. ‘You’re right,’ she murmured, and he could hear her smile in her voice. ‘We’ll be brilliant.’
RACHEL EYED THE encroaching black clouds and glanced at the ETA on the taxi satnav. Four minutes. She crossed her fingers and hoped she could get inside before the storm broke. It was going to be a big one, and her jacket was buried in the bottom of her bag, stowed out of reach in the boot of the car. Either running up the pathway—she glanced at her patent pumps doubtfully—or digging through her bag, she’d be soaked in seconds.
The weather had been beautifully clear in London, and had only clouded over slightly on the train journey down. But once she’d climbed into the taxi from the station it had turned so dark it seemed like night. And the clouds just kept on gathering. It was almost impossible not to consider it an omen. Not that she had any reason to think this weekend would go badly. After the last scan she and Leo had spent a joyful afternoon together, laughing and joking, talking tentatively about the arrival of the baby, and generally being full of generosity and joy. There was no reason to think that today would be any different.
Except that when he’d called her at lunchtime—inviting her down to Dorset for the weekend—there had been something in his voice that worried her. Behind his words had been an edge of something nervy and taut. Why didn’t she take the afternoon off, he’d said, and come straight down to the cottage? She’d bitten down on the word no, and thought about it for a second, glancing at her calendar. It would mean moving her Monday around, but there was really no reason she couldn’t... It was the perfect chance to put her new life decisions in action and try something spontaneous for a change. To ignore her plan for just a few hours and see where the afternoon took her.
She’d cleared it with Will and treated herself to a cab straight to her flat and then the station, her belly fluttering with the excitement of her first spur-of-the-moment action in years.
But as the car turned the final corner and the cottage came into view, Rachel’s stomach sank, and she felt the cool damp fingers of fear and disappointment trickling down her collar, as icy as the imminent rain. The pile of builders’ material in front of the house had shrunk considerably,