Playing the Playboy's Sweetheart

Steele looked over again at Macey and her nieces and knew it was time for him to take his own medicine.

It was time for him to face things.

When he arrived in Emergency he saw the smudges beneath Candy’s eyes and she was still refusing to meet his gaze.

Direct as ever, Steele asked the question. ‘Are you avoiding me?’

She stood there and went to lie to him, to say of course not, or whatever, but his beautiful eyes demanded the truth so she nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Can I ask why?’

There was no point in telling him about the pregnancy so she made up an excuse. An excuse that was partly true. ‘I’ve been a bit mixed up about Gerry and I had a big argument with my parents. They’ve realised that I’ve been staying out at night...’

‘Really?’ He looked at her for a long moment. He knew she was lying, knew how she’d fought for her independence and knew too that she wouldn’t give in to them.

‘I think we should just leave things,’ Candy said. ‘I don’t want to upset them.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ he said. ‘While I understand you might need a bit of space after what’s happened to Gerry, I don’t believe that’s it.’ When Candy didn’t respond he pressed on. ‘Do you know, one thing that I’ve really enjoyed about our time together is how honest we have always been. It’s fine if you want to end things, but at least tell me the reason why.’

‘Can we go somewhere private?’ she asked.

‘Sure,’ he said, his voice clipped. ‘My office?’

They walked through the hospital in silence and then onto the geriatric unit and it felt to both of them as if they were walking to the gallows—which they were, for this killed them.

Through the ward they went and to his office at the end, and Macey watched their strained faces as they passed by.

Candy stepped into his office and didn’t take a seat. She had a feeling she wouldn’t be here for very long.

‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on?’ he invited.

‘Not really,’ she said.

‘Okay. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’

‘I’m pregnant,’ Candy said.

For Steele it was the strangest sensation. Ten years ago he had wondered how he might react when the woman he was crazy about told him such news.

Now, ten years on, the woman he was seriously crazy about was telling him such news.

‘With twins,’ she added.

He hadn’t been aware that she’d brought a cricket bat with her when she’d come into the office. Of course Candy hadn’t but it felt like that as she added her little postscript and he was left with one thought, one regretful, sad thought.

They’re not mine.

‘They’re not yours,’ she added, like an echo to his brain, and Steele snapped his response, in his gruff, low voice.

‘I think I’d already established that, thank you.’

Yes, he actually felt as if he’d been knocked on the back of the head because his reactions, his words did not belong to the man he knew he was, yet, concussed by the impact of her news, he continued to speak. ‘What do you want me to say here, Candy?’

‘I don’t know,’ she admitted.

He honestly did not know how to react. Was he supposed to step in and say, That’s fine, darling, I’ll raise his babies? Or, How convenient, Candy, he should perhaps say with a smile, given that I shoot blanks. Or was he supposed to say that it was no big deal?

It was a massive deal.

He should, Steele knew on some level, take her in his arms and tell her that things would work out, that she could get through this.

His arms couldn’t move, though, and his mouth was clamped closed so that no words could come out.

‘I’m going to go,’ she said.

‘Wait.’

‘Why?’ Candy answered. ‘Steele, we agreed to three weeks. We managed two. I was hoping to get through this week without telling you.’

‘But you have.’

‘Because you’re right—we have always been honest. Yes, I’ve been avoiding you. I didn’t want to spoil what we had.’

‘Have you told your parents?’

Candy shook her head.