'Stay there and I'll run the bath.' As he disappeared into the en suite Victoria tried to swing her legs off the bed so she was sitting on the edge, but the pain beat her.
She wasn't even going to be able to undress herself. The awful realisation prompted more squirmings, but by the time Zac walked back into the room she had given up and accepted fate had done its worst. She was as helpless as a baby.
'Right. The bath's ready, so let's get you out of these clothes. We'll take it nice and slowly, all right?'
Zac's voice was brisk—too brisk, Victoria recognised with burning awareness; he was clearly just as embarrassed as she was, but hiding it better—and as he slipped her shoes off she said hastily, 'Could you get my bathrobe first, please. I'll have it on the bed ready to put on once I'm…undressed.'
Stripping off would be bad enough. Stripping off and then sitting there stark naked while he sorted through her belongings for her robe was unimaginable.
It took him some time to undress her. Victoria found it was virtually impossible to raise her arms above her head, and so they were a minute or two juggling her dress off. In spite of Zac's gentleness her underslip proved even more difficult. And then she was sitting there in her bra, pants and tights, and wishing the ground would open up and swallow her.
>
It was as he peeled her tights down her legs that the baby decided to give an almighty kick, and with Zac's head virtually on a line with her swollen belly the movement couldn't have gone unnoticed. Victoria froze but the baby had no such qualms.
'Tory…' He froze, his eyes fixed on her rippling stomach as the baby shifted around a bit before kicking again, just to let her know it was satisfied with the new position.
And then Zac's eyes lifted to meet hers, and such was the look on his face that Victoria forgot all about her embarrassment and unease, and smiled at him as she said, 'It does that all the time at the moment; it's a right little wriggle-bum.'
'It's alive. It's moving, feeling…'
She didn't mock his amazed voice of the wonder in his eyes; she simply reached out and took one of his hands, placing it on his child as it continued to move inside her.
'It's strong.' His voice was thick and there were tears in his eyes, and it touched her more than she could ever have imagined and a lot more than she would have liked. Because—whatever else had gone before—this was the real man, this was genuine. He might have had ulterior motives in marrying her, he might be ruthless and egotistical and a law unto himself, but he was her baby's father and he loved the little scrap of humanity inside her as she did. And she wished she had never come here today. Oh, she did. This was too poignant, too painful, too real.
'I think I need that bath now.' She tried to make her voice light and even managed a shaky smile as he stood up, still with that expression of dazed awe and wonder on his face.
He put the bathrobe round her shoulders before Victoria unclipped her bra, thanking her lucky stars that she had worn a front-fastening one that day, and as she slipped into the thick towelling folds he helped her gently to her feet, before pulling her lacy bikini briefs down past her knees after she had eased them off her thighs.
She looked down at his dark head as he did so, at the crisp black waves that showed the odd strand of silver over his ears, and wanted to weep when she thought of what might have been.
His face was studiously blank as he lifted her—stark naked— into the mass of perfumed bubbles a few seconds later, and just as expressionless when he returned some twenty minutes later and lifted her out again, enfolding her in a huge fluffy bath sheet before carrying her through into the bedroom.
This was the room they would have shared, Victoria thought suddenly as Zac placed her carefully onto the fresh, sweet-smelling covers. He didn't think he was…? Hot panic made her tactless, and she blurted, 'I don't want to turn you out of your bed, Zac. I can sleep in another room.'
'I don't sleep in here.' He had obviously switched on the electric blanket while Victoria had been in the bath because the bed was wonderfully warm and cosy. 'And I didn't expect an invitation, so don't worry.' It was cool and faintly ironic, but as she glanced at him she saw his mouth was tight.
There was another embarrassing moment when he eased her white silk nightie over her head, but at least the water had relaxed her muscles enough for her to raise her arms gingerly and help him, although she was very aware of his eyes on the heavy thrust of her breasts. And then she was in bed, with the covers tucked up round her chin and her hands clenched tensely under the duvet.
'A light lunch, and then a couple of those pain-killers Ross prescribed,' Zac said as matter-of-factly as though her being here were an everyday occurrence. 'Omelette and salad suit?'
'I…I don't want to keep your from your work or be a distraction or anything,' Victoria muttered painfully. 'I'll be fine if you want to go, really, and—'
'Victoria, you've come between me and my work and been a distraction from the first moment I set eyes on you.' Zac's voice was very dry. 'But—' he bent and lightly stroked her lips with his own, nuzzling them apart with his tongue and deepening the kiss until the liquid fire running through her veins made her fluid and worked better than any pain-killer '—moments like this make it all worthwhile.'
He straightened, his eyes mocking as they stroked over her flushed face. 'Now, lie back and relax, and let the warmth do its healing work, and I'll be back before you know it. I'll eat in here with you if you've no objection?'
He raised an enquiring black eyebrow and Victoria found her voice as she muttered, 'No, of course not. I mean yes, you're welcome…' She wasn't making much sense, she thought with burning self-disgust, but she just wished he'd go.
'Good.' He smiled, and it was a killer.
He didn't often smile like that, Victoria realised as Zac looked down at her for a moment more. Usually there was a touch of cynicism in the hard male face, a wariness almost, as though he was on his guard most of the time. Which he probably was, she acknowledged in the next instant. His world was fast and ruthless—no mercy asked for or given. He couldn't afford to be gentle or tender or loving…
But he had been with her. The thought jolted her physically and as she winced at the pain it caused her torn muscles Zac said, 'Lunch, and then I suggest you sleep the afternoon away. I'll go and sort out my chefs apron.'
'You wear an apron?' she asked mockingly.
And then her eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat at the vivid picture on the screen of her mind as his smile took on a distinctly wicked slant and he said, 'Sure I do. Nothing else, mind, just an apron.' He turned, walking with easy animal grace to the door, and as he stepped out onto the landing he glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes glittering, and shut the door quietly behind him.