The Baby Secret

'Yes, it's me. I…I'm fine, William. I've just…I've just got in from work. It's been a long day.'

She was aware of a sharp movement behind her, and then absolute silence, but she could feel Zac's eyes burning into the back of her head as William said, 'I hope you're not overdoing it, Blue-eyes; there's no need, you know. I've said I can help out You've had a hell of a packet these last few months.'

She had got two men trying to ply her with money— two men who were prepared to keep her—and she couldn't live with either one of them, Victoria thought with a touch of hysteria. 'No, really, I'm fine.' Please, please, William, don't prolong this now, not now of all times, she prayed silently.

'Okay.' William didn't sound convinced. 'Look, I was just phoning to tell you I'm still in the land of the living and in be back in a week or two. Things are a sight more complicated than we thought here, and we're following up on a couple of leads that'll take a little more time, so don't worry—all right?'

'All right Be…be careful, won't you?' she managed weakly. The back of her neck was reaching ignition point.

'You know me, Blue-eyes, careful is my middle name. Now, take care of yourself, and don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it. You've got plenty of good friends— use 'em if you need to,' William said softly. 'I'll call you when I get back. Goodbye for now and take it easy, okay?'

Victoria could hear what sounded like shouts in the background, along with a great deal of other noise and deafening commotion, and a sudden concern for this dear friend's safety made her voice as soft as his when she said, 'Don't take any chances, William. Promise me. A story is one thing but don't try to be a hero.'

'I promise.' There was a smile in his voice as he added, 'You've gone into earth mother role already, I can tell. I've got to go, Blue-eyes…'

'Okay, thank you for ringing,' Victoria murmured quietly. She replaced the receiver very slowly, and now the silence was profound as she turned to face Zac's tense frame. 'That was William.' It was inane, but anything was better than the deafening silence. 'He's out following up a story somewhere or other.'

'So I gathered.'

The metamorphosis into ice man was complete—his eyes were black chips of glass, his face like granite. It was chilling.

'He…he was just wondering how I was getting on—'

'I'm not interested, Victoria. Not in you, not in him. We'll let the solicitors take it from here, okay?' Zac said tightly.

She could sense the black fury that was gripping him, feel the suffocating force of it as she stared into the glittering ebony eyes, and she wasn't to know that the main nub of his rage was against what he saw as his own weakness. She only knew that she loved him, and that in this minute—if it could take that terrible look off his face and transport them back to that eternity ago when they had first met—she would forgive him anything. Gina, the deal with her mother, anything.

But he had never asked for forgiveness. The truth was stark, and bitter on her tongue. And he never would. The knowledge froze her heart and body as she watched him leave without another word, and it was only some hours later, when she lay in the chaste isolation of her narrow single bed, that the ice began to melt.

Perhaps she had needed to go through this last searing meeting? Sleep was a million miles away, and some time after midnight she flung back the tangled covers and made her way into the kitchen, making a pot of strong black coffee. She wasn't going to get any sleep tonight so she might as well indulge herself.

They had no meeting point—that was clear enough, she told herself as she walked into the sitting room without turning on the light, and stood looking out of the window into the dark mews as she sipped the fragrant coffee. And she didn't want his money; that was the last thing she wanted. Just one word of regret, one indication that he had been stupid. Was that too much to ask? The answer came back loud and clear.

Two people in different worlds. He had said he didn't know her, but she knew him even less. The consuming flood of pain and loss was almost more than she could bear, and she put the coffee mug down on the floor as she began to shake with reaction.

She had known all about the fast, jet-style lifestyle he lived—her parents had existed in the same mode, hadn't they?—but she had thought he was diff

erent. But perhaps that was her fault? Maybe she'd assumed things she'd had no right to take for granted? Whatever, she knew she would never, never open up the door of her heart or her body to Zac again.

And it was only in that dark moment of supreme desolation that she acknowledged the small flame of reconciliation she'd kept burning deep inside, and watched— dry-eyed and heartsore—as it slowly flickered, and then died.

CHAPTER FIVE

It was, in fact, a full three weeks before William returned to London, and by then—at twenty-one weeks pregnant— Victoria had reconciled herself to telling her mother about her condition, knowing that, whatever Coral's reaction, it couldn't hurt her.

The main component of this new strength had come from the baby itself; Victoria had felt it kick a few days before when she had been luxuriating in a long lazy bath, and the fierce rush of consuming mother love had amazed her with its intensity. Her scan at sixteen weeks had been thrilling, when she had watched the machine glide over her wet gelled stomach and outline the tiny baby hidden deep in her womb, but the emotion that had gripped her at the feel of those strong little feet had been indescribable, outdoing the picture of the scan she kept propped by her bed.

She had seen nothing of Coral for well over a month— their last meeting had been a particularly acrimonious one—but now Victoria had made up her mind that once she had seen William, and put him fully in the picture as to Zac's assumption about the father of her baby, she would then inform her mother she was going to be a grandmother. She wasn't looking forward to it, but she'd do it. But it would be a flat statement—Coral, like Zac, could assume whatever she liked; there would be no explanations from Victoria—as long as William was happy to go along with that.

True to his word, William phoned her the evening he got back to England, and they arranged to meet for lunch later in the week when William had had time to deal with tidying up the loose ends of his assignment. So Victoria was a little surprised when, the following morning just as she was about to leave for work, William phoned again.

'Victoria?' William's voice was bemused. 'Could you tell me what on earth is going on? Your husband's informants must be first-class in keeping him up to date with my whereabouts round the globe, because at seven o'clock this morning he was all but battering my front door down.'

'Oh, William.' Victoria was mortified. 'Oh, I'm sorry.'

'Partly because of jet-lag, and possibly because I felt I was in some Alice in Wonderland world where I didn't have a clue what was going on, I let him have his say without bopping him on the nose,' William continued conversationally. 'And it transpired, when I'd calmed him down enough to accept a cup of coffee, that he'd had the idea we had…how shall I put it?…made a baby. This baby—his baby,' he added evenly.

'What…what did you say?' Victoria whispered, her hand going protectively over the mound of her stomach wherein Zac's child lay. This was the worst scenario she could have thought of.