Liz had been right all along, and she had been too besotted to see the truth…
Jed looked at Phoebe’s downbent head saw the utter devastation she could not hide. The shock and anger that had overtaken him subsided a little. If she was pregnant of course he would take care of her. But first he needed Dr Marcus to confirm the pregnancy and, given he had been away for weeks at a time throughout their affair, he needed to be certain the child was his before he could even consider marrying her—though no child of his was going to be born out of wedlock. Lock being the operative word, he thought cynically…Marriage meant the end of his bachelor days.
He could not deal with Phoebe now. He needed time to think, and he had a breakfast meeting in an hour.
He walked around to where she sat, and laid a hand on her shoulder. He felt her
jerk away from him, which angered him again.
‘I have not time for this now,’ he said curtly. ‘I have meetings lined up all day that I can’t miss, and I have to be in Greece by tomorrow evening for my father’s birthday party.’
More important to Jed was the fact his father was retiring. The lawyers had been summoned, and tomorrow night he would be officially installed as the head of the Sabbides Corporation—the firm he had been running unofficially along with his own for the past few years. Not that Phoebe needed to know. His business had nothing to do with her.
‘But don’t worry—I will speak to Marcus before I go. He is an excellent doctor, and discreet. He will take care of your pregnancy, and I will pay for everything, I can assure you.’
She slowly lifted her head and stared at him for a long moment. She wasn’t crying and her usually brilliant blue eyes were oddly blank.
‘I’m not worried—and I’m sure he will,’ she said quietly, and glanced back down at her clasped hands.
‘Good.’ Jed hesitated. He had never seen Phoebe look so subdued. Maybe he should say something. But he didn’t do emotions, and he was still in shock, so he said, ‘I need a shower,’ and strode into the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, after a cool shower, he’d had time to think. Maybe he had been a bit harsh on Phoebe. Either by accident or design it didn’t really matter—she was still a pregnant woman. He dressed swiftly and went looking for her. He found her sitting in the kitchen, with a cup of tea in one hand and stroking the cat curled up on her lap with the other. She loved the damn cat, which barely tolerated him, and for some reason that angered him further.
‘I must leave now. I’ll see you tonight and we can discuss the necessary arrangements.’ Obviously he would set her up with an allowance straight away. As for the rest—once paternity was proved, everything could be organised.
Phoebe put the cup down on the table and glanced at Jed. He was immaculately dressed in a charcoal-grey suit, perfectly tailored to fit his broad-shouldered, long and lean frame, and a white shirt and silk tie. How had she ever imagined he was her boyfriend? she thought, appalled at her own naivety. He’d reached thirty last month, and she had splashed out and bought him a nineteenth-century solid gold seal in the shape of a heart. She had spotted it in an antiques shop, and thought he would see the symbolism in her gift—that she was giving him her heart. How dumb was that? He had never looked past her body, and now he had decided it—she—had betrayed him. He was every inch the successful tycoon, and she had been living in cloud cuckoo land to believe otherwise.
She nodded her head, incapable of speaking to the ruthless, arrogant pig…He had ripped her heart to shreds with his brutally cynical reaction to her pregnancy, cold-bloodedly accusing her of being the worst kind of gold-digger, plotting and planning to get pregnant and get his money. That Jed—the man she loved—could actually think so badly of her told her he had never really known her at all. While she’d thought she had touched his heart, all she had ever been to him was a willing female in his bed. His mistress…
When he had casually told her his good friend the doctor would discreetly ‘take care’ of her pregnancy—as though her unborn child was less than nothing, a blip to be dispensed with in the smooth running of his life—she’d known it was over. Utterly finished.
Jed didn’t want a baby. It was not on his agenda…What kind of cold-hearted man was he that he could even equate a baby with a business agenda? But then business was his life and everything else was peripheral, she realised. A termination was what he was offering her—not the love and the support she had so stupidly expected. His solution was to pay his doctor friend to make the baby go away. Work, money, and the power that went with it were his obsession, and she had been the biggest idiot in the world to think anything different.
Phoebe heard the door shut. Getting to her feet, she walked into the bedroom and fell flat on the bed. With her head buried in the pillow she finally let the tears fall. She cried with pain and grief for a love that never was, and the loss of her innocent illusions, and finally cried herself into a sleep of physical and mental exhaustion.
Phoebe awoke with a start and for a moment was completely disorientated. She glanced at the bedside clock. Three in the afternoon? What was she doing in bed? Then it all came flooding back…
Weakly she lay on the bed, going over and over again in her head every minute since Jed had arrived last night…the passionate lovemaking she had thought confirmed he loved her…Now she realised that to a sophisticated, highly-sexed man like Jed all she had ever been to him was little better than a sex slave, willing to do whatever he asked of her. The past year filtered slowly though her mind, and she was haunted by her own stupidity. All the gifts he had given her were nothing more than payment for services rendered in Jed’s mind.
This morning, when she told him she was pregnant, the real Jed Sabbides—the poker-faced ruthless tycoon—had been revealed to her, and Phoebe shuddered in despair.
Jed’s brutal reaction to her pregnancy appalled her all over again, and suddenly his parting words that he would discuss the necessary arrangements with her tonight replayed in her mind. She panicked.
She did not dare stay. Jed was a powerful personality, and deep down she did not trust herself to defy his obvious intention that she have a termination—because, heaven help her, she could not easily dismiss the love she felt for him, even knowing he was a complete bastard…
She had to leave Jed and the apartment—she had to pack. That was the only thought in her head as she leapt off the bed, heading for the chest of drawers and stumbling over the cat…
Jed Sabbides signed off on his conference call to the other side of the Atlantic. The two o’clock meeting he should have had in New York had been a success—another great financial deal brokered. It was seven-thirty in the evening, and he was finished work for the day. He ran a distracted hand through his thick black hair. He had with difficulty blocked all thought of Phoebe and her astounding news from his mind while working, but now he had no excuse.
He looked up as the door opened and Christina, his PA, walked in. ‘Do you need me for anything else?’
‘No,’ he replied shortly. ‘Go now.’
‘You look tired, Jed. Let me get you a glass of whisky, and I’ll give you a neck massage, if you like—it will help you relax.’
‘The whisky, yes—the massage, no.’ He looked at his PA, surprised she had suggested a massage. He must look worse than he felt, because it wasn’t like her at all. Christina was dark-haired, not unattractive, and super-efficient. He was lucky to have her. There was no fear of Christina getting pregnant by mistake…she never made mistakes. But had Phoebe? he pondered. She was a lot younger, and he was her first lover. Maybe her pregnancy was a genuine accident.
‘Here is your drink.’ Christina placed the glass on his desk, with the bottle beside it, and moved to stand behind him. ‘Are you sure I can’t ease these tense muscles?’ And suddenly her hands were on his neck.