‘My GP was his squash partner.’ Miranda shook her head. ‘No. I just tried not to annoy him. The trouble was, I annoyed him by just being me. So I learned to make myself as invisible as possible and I became very self-reliant.’ She gave a tiny shrug. ‘It’s history now. Please, don’t think I spend all day, every day thinking about it. It’s over. It was over a long time ago and I refuse to be a victim.’
‘But clearly you don’t see them any more.’
She shook her head. ‘I left home as soon as I could and they didn’t try and stop me. It’s affected me, of course it has. I suppose a psychologist would say that’s why I got involved with Peter. Searching for a father figure.’ She gave a smile of wry self-mockery. ‘Ironic, really. In his own way he was about as good a father figure as Keith. In my head I’ve invented this mythical dad.’
‘And what’s he like?’
At first she looked surprised by the question and then she gave a little shrug. ‘Ridiculously perfect. He adores his children so much that he’s prepared to put them first and he actually enjoys spending time with them. He
delights in their achievements and he wants to shield them from all harm.’ She sat back in her chair, her expression shifting from tense to dreamy. ‘And when I imagine him, he has this look in his eyes. Love, I suppose.’ She sounded so wistful that Jake felt an ache building deep inside him. Obviously she’d never known the deep, unconditional love of a parent.
‘So what would a psychologist say about your relationship with me?’
‘We don’t have a relationship.’
‘No?’ It gave him some satisfaction to see her drop the tissue. Her hand stilled.
‘Jake, I—’
‘I’m glad you told me because now I understand why you keep backing away. You don’t believe that I’ll be able to love your baby the way I love you. You don’t believe I can love unconditionally.’
‘You don’t love me. Please, stop saying that.’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘You can’t possibly love me.’
‘Why not? Because your stepfather didn’t love you? Because your mother didn’t stand up for you? That doesn’t make you unlovable, sweetheart, it just makes you unlucky. But luck can change and it’s time yours did.’
Her hands dropped and she turned to look at him. ‘Jake…’
Unable to help himself, he brought his mouth down on hers. Her lips, impossibly soft and sweet, parted under the insistent pressure of his. He felt the hot burn of arousal scorch his body but held himself back, not wanting to rush her, aware that she was still deeply upset and extremely vulnerable. If he’d stopped to think then he probably would have admitted to himself that it wasn’t the best time to kiss her, but somehow thinking seemed impossible. He slid a hand into her silky hair and kept the kiss gentle and exploratory. He tasted hesitation and fear. Sensed her reluctance. And then she slid her arms round his neck and kissed him back, her tongue touching his.
The kiss was mindless, endless, and then she pulled back slightly, her dark eyes clouded.
‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’
He stroked a hand over the smoothness of her cheek. ‘If you can give me one good reason why we should stop, I’ll give it my full consideration.’
‘I’m pregnant.’
‘That’s not a reason. You’ll have to do better than that.’ His lips brushed against hers and he felt her shiver of response.
‘My New Year’s resolution was to stop believing in romance.’ Her voice was breathy and feminine and slid over his nerve endings, increasing his arousal several notches.
‘New Year was weeks ago.’ He nibbled at her lower lip. ‘It’s time you broke your resolution.’
‘Jake…’ She groaned his name against his mouth and he felt aching, tearing claws of lust drag through his loins. He couldn’t remember feeling this desperate since he’d been a teenager and suddenly he felt his control slipping.
‘Come upstairs with me, Miranda.’ He stroked her hair away from her face and kissed her again. ‘Now.’
‘Yes.’ She rose to her feet and he scooped her up into his arms, ignoring her soft gasp of surprise and protest.
‘Put me down! You’ll slip a disc or something. I weigh a ton.’
‘You don’t weigh anything,’ Jake growled as he carried up the stairs to his bedroom. The curtains were open and moonlight shone through the windows, casting a gentle light over the room. ‘You should be heavier than this. You definitely need to eat more. I’m going to devote tomorrow to feeding you.’
Her arms tightened around his neck as he laid her in the centre of the bed. ‘What about tonight?’
‘That’s devoted to something else entirely.’ He came down next to her and brought his mouth down on hers, forcing himself to take it slowly. Part of him wanted to strip her naked and take her fast but he knew that she deserved so much more than that. She deserved to be well and truly loved. So he kept his mouth gentle and his hands slow.
He felt her body shift under his, felt the urgency of her own response and removed her top in a smooth movement. Her breasts were perfectly rounded and he lowered his head with a groan of masculine appreciation.