Just One Last Night

‘Now I know why I’ve been feeling the way I have I can eat little and often and make sure I don’t miss meals or get too tired, but normal life will continue.’ Feeling a compromise was in order, she added, ‘I’ll phone you tonight, I promise.’

‘Not good enough. I want to sit down with you and discuss this properly. You’re carrying my child, Nell. I’ll take you out for a meal tonight. Be ready about eight.’

She really didn’t want to do this. For one thing the complaint she now recognised was morning sickness tended to be more afternoon and evening sickness, and for another being with Forde was painful at the best of times, reminding her of all she’d lost. ‘I don’t think—’ She found her words cut off as his mouth took hers.

The kiss was a deliberate assault on her senses, she recognised that from the moment his mouth descended, but he’d taken her by surprise and by the time reason was back she was trembling at the sweetness of his lovemaking. He had moved to lean over her, using one hand to steady himself and the other to lightly cup her breast, but immediately his tongue had slid along her teeth and he had probed her lips open.

In spite of herself she gave no resistance as he slowly and voluptuously explored her mouth; she couldn’t. He only had to touch her—he’d only ever had to touch her—and she melted, turning liquid with desire. Her attraction to him had always been consuming, that was why she had tried to put distance between them after they’d lost Matthew. First by shutting herself away emotionally and mentally, and then by physically removing herself from his orbit. But he had forced his way into her life again, with disastrous results. But no, she couldn’t think of their baby as a disaster.

With her guard lowered and her defences down, Melanie kissed him back as she had done on the fateful night in August. His sharp intake of breath told her he’d sensed her capitulation, but his mouth was like a drug and she couldn’t break its hold on her.

It was another car drawing alongside them that caused Forde to ease back into his own seat, his mouth reluctantly leaving hers after one last long kiss at the side of her mouth.

To her shame, Melanie knew she wouldn’t have been able to show such restraint, regardless of who was around. And that was the trouble, she told herself silently as she smoothed back a strand of hair off one hot cheek. Forde had been the chink in the armour she’d worn against the outside

world from the day she had met him. He had made her believe in happy-ever-after for a while, convinced her that his love was enough to protect her from anything that might come against them, from within and without. But he hadn’t been able to stop her hurting Matthew.

A young mother with a toddler climbed out of the car that had parked next to them, clearly pregnant for the second time. The girl didn’t look a day over eighteen and she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, her long blonde hair and short miniskirt, which revealed endless legs clad in leggings, making Melanie feel like an old hag.

That was the sort of woman Forde should have married, she thought miserably. Someone fresh and sparkling without any hang-ups. Someone as far removed from herself as the man in the moon, in fact. Her thoughts gave strength to her voice when she said, ‘I have to get back to work, Forde. Now.’

He didn’t argue this time. ‘OK. But you make sure you explain this new turn of events to James, Nell. I have a spy in the camp who’ll inform me if you’re not behaving, remember that.’

He had been joking, well, half joking, she surmised, but the words were like a bucket of cold water poured over her head. Isabelle. This baby was her grandchild. The panic returned but stronger, and she felt she must know what a fish felt like when caught in a fisherman’s net with no visible source of escape.

‘Eight o’clock tonight, OK?’

Forde was looking at her and, seeing in his eyes he wouldn’t take no for an answer, Melanie nodded jerkily.

He gave her one last swift kiss, his uneven mouth quirking. ‘Stop looking as though the prospect of dinner with the father of your child is a fate worse than death,’ he murmured sardonically. ‘My ego has taken enough hits in the last months as it is.’

Afterwards, she wondered what on earth had made her say her next words. Maybe it was because the memory of the woman’s voice in the background when she’d been talking to him on the phone still rankled—more than rankled, if she was being honest. Or perhaps it was his assumption that the fact that she was pregnant sorted all the problems? Or that he didn’t understand, he simply didn’t get the torment she’d been going through since Matthew’s death because she, and she alone, was responsible for their son’s stillbirth and nothing could change that.

‘I’m sure there are plenty of willing fingers just itching to stroke that ego though,’ she said with deliberate nonchalance.

She watched the beautiful silver-blue eyes turn to crystal hardness. And immediately regretted her rashness.

‘Now that was definitely loaded,’ he said, searching her face with laserlike intensity. ‘Explain.’

She shrugged. ‘Nothing to explain. I was just saying I’m sure there are more than a few women lined up who are quite happy to keep you company, that’s all.’ Ecstatically so, no doubt.

‘And on what do you base that assumption?’ he asked with deceptive mildness.

‘Forde, I’m fully aware I have no right to criticise you seeing other women. You are free to do whatever you please.’

‘Is that so?’ It was a snarl. ‘And this—’ he held up his left hand with the thick gold wedding band ‘—means nothing? Is that it? Well, think again, sweetheart. It means a great deal to me as it happens.’

The hypocrisy was too much. ‘I know someone was with you the night I phoned about the divorce papers,’ she said stonily.

‘What?’ His brow wrinkled, then cleared. ‘Yes, you’re right,’ he said with silky smoothness. ‘There were several people present actually. I was holding a dinner party for my mother’s birthday, just her and several old friends of hers. I don’t know who you heard, Melanie, but I can assure you every woman present was eighty years old or above.’

Wonderful, just wonderful. Not only had she forgotten Isabelle’s birthday but had revealed herself as a jealous, mean-minded shrew. Gathering the remnants of her dignity around her, she stared at him, her chin lifting. ‘I see, but you don’t have to explain to me. I was just saying you’re free to do whatever you please.’

‘No, Nell, I’m not.’

The return of his pet name for her after the Melanie of a few moments ago made her want to sag with relief. But she didn’t. Stubbornly, she began, ‘I have no right—’

‘You have every right to demand of me the same faithfulness and honesty I demand of you, Nell. And let me just say this for the record. When I made my wedding vows I meant every one of them. And they hold firm. Got it?’ Forde was secretly rather pleased at the jealousy she’d betrayed but knew better than to belabour the point. ‘And I’ll pick you up at eight tonight.’