Jack's Baby

“Not particularly.”

She looked at their daughter. Her fair hair probably came from him. Not that Jack was fair now, but he must have been when he was a boy. Nina remembered her mother saying she was born with black hair, so Charlotte didn’t take after her in that respect. In any event, Nina was certain Jack hadn’t examined Charlotte for likenesses. She was just the kid to him.

“Well, whether she looks like him or not, babies have a way of winding themselves around fathers’ hearts,” Rhonda declared, unable to imagine any other outcome. “He wouldn’t want to marry you if he didn’t want her.”

The marriage offer had certainly come as a surprise. Probably a conditioned response to the situation, Nina had reasoned, guilt leading to a burst of doing the right thing by her. Given time, Jack would undoubtedly rue the impulsive idea.

“It won’t last,” Nina said, casting a quelling look at Jack’s well-meaning supporters and determinedly dampening the little hope that kept squiggling through her.

Rhonda couldn’t resist a last word. “Look at it this way. If he’s got plenty of money, you could always hire a nanny to take the hassle out of looking after the baby.”

A nanny for a kid. Rhonda had hit the nail on the head with that one, Nina thought. It probably would be Jack’s solution to avoiding having anything to do with Charlotte. Well, he could think again if he was planning to separate her from her baby so he could have their twosome back without the hassle of being involved in parenting.

Charlotte hiccupped. Nina hoisted her up and gently rubbed her back to bring up wind. No nanny could feed her baby as she could. Jack had better appreciate her position on mothering—and fathering—if he really wanted to consider marriage. It was a family package deal or nothing, as far as Nina was concerned.

If Jack came today—she glanced at the roses. When he came today, she needed to get a few things straightened out. He’d better come today if he wanted to show good faith. Sally was taking her home tonight. Nina had no intention of waiting around with Charlotte, hanging onto a hope that might not materialise.

Charlotte burped, then started snuffling around Nina’s shoulder for more milk. Nina lowered her onto her other breast and settled back contentedly to let her baby have her fill.

If Jack Gulliver thought he could walk into their lives and take over as he pleased, he was in for a big surprise.

Two hours later he breezed into the ward, radiating goodwill and bearing more gifts. Nina felt her pulse quicken. He had always excited her. She found herself cravenly wishing she’d put on make-up and a sexier nightie than the practical cotton one with the convenient buttons for breastfeeding. Which was absurd in the circumstances.

“I beat the lunch trolley,” he said, grinning triumphantly as he set his parcels down on her mobile tray and started removing their contents. “I brought you a chocolate thick shake from McDonald’s, that terrine you love—the one with bacon and chicken and pistachio nuts in it—from David Jones’s food hall, your favourite Caesar salad, and fresh strawberries and cream to finish up. Enjoy,” he commanded, positioning the newly laden tray across the bed for easy accessibility.

She stared at him in amazement, not only that he’d remembered what she liked but had actually gone to the trouble of getting it for her. “The hospital does feed me, you know,” she said, struggling against the seduction of being pampered.

“You need appetite tempters, not mass-produced stuff,” he argued earnestly. “And none of this will upset the baby. I checked. So you can eat with a clear conscience.”

He looked so confident, brimming with bonhomie, his green eyes aglow with a gusto for life. It wasn’t fair that he still had the power to dazzle her with his vitality, to ignite a flood of desire with his sizzling sex appeal. It was imperative she keep her head clear and her heart guarded. His words finally filtered through the attraction zone she had to disregard.

“You checked what would upset the baby?” she asked incredulously.

“No excuses for not eating, Nina. You look thin and run-down, and that’s not a good state to be in. You need a full store of energy to cope with a new baby.”

He was sounding off like an authority, and being altogether too virtuous for someone who wanted nothing to do with babies. “Since when did you become an expert on these matters?” she asked suspiciously.

“Made a few phone calls last night for some first-hand advice.” He grinned again. “I’ve got plenty of friends ready, willing and able to hand it out.”

Determinedly cheerful in the face of disaster, Nina thought, though she had to concede he had made it through about sixteen hours without backing off and he was putting in considerable effort at this point. It won’t last, she repeated to herself, but Sally’s sales pitch swirled through her mind, whispering she might as well make the most of it while it did. The terrine was definitely a slice of gourmet heaven.

“Thank you, Jack,” she said sincerely. “This is very kind and thoughtful o

f you.”

“You’re welcome. Go ahead and eat,” he urged.

The hospital lunch trolley was wheeled in, and Jack waved it on to Kim and Rhonda. They were served with trays of what they had ordered, and Nina hoped they would be somewhat distracted from being interested spectators to the latest development between her and Jack.

She broke open the packet of crackers that accompanied the terrine and helped herself to a generous slice of the tasty delicacy, highly conscious of Jack watching her, exuding intense satisfaction. It was probably a big mistake accepting anything from him, encouraging him to stick around, Nina thought. It would end badly. But right at this moment, however wrong it was, it felt good having Jack here with her.

He stepped to the bassinette and looked at Charlotte, who was sleeping peacefully. This happy state did not test Jack’s paternal staying power. It positively increased his cheerfulness.

“Hi, kid. This is your dad speaking,” he said, blithely confident of no reply. “I’m looking after your mum now, so there’s nothing for you to worry about. You can dream blissful dreams of plenty.”

The terrine was delicious. Nina had to acknowledge Jack had the capacity to be a good provider. And he couldn’t blame Charlotte for messing up his chosen career, because that was solidly established. Apart from his earning power, he’d never been in financial difficulties, anyway. His parents had both been in the law profession, wealthy people who’d left a considerable estate to their only child when they died, both of them from heart attacks in their early sixties.

“Worked themselves to death,” Jack had remarked offhandedly, and Nina had received the strong impression there had been no great love lost between him and his parents.