Her Secret Pregnancy

There was a small, apologetic cough from the table, and Donna and Marcus both started as Tony Paxman looked up at them. Donna bit her lip in vexation.

She’d forgotten all about her lunch partner! How rude of her! And how unimaginative, too. Just because Marcus Foreman had walked in, that didn’t mean that the rest of the world had stopped turning.

It just seemed that way….

‘Er, shall we order coffee, Tony?’ she asked him quickly.

But Tony Paxman looked as if he’d taken about as much rejection as he could handle in one day. He shook his head as he rose to his feet—master of his own destiny once more as he made a big pantomime out of gazing at his watch.

‘Heck! Is that the time? Time I wasn’t here! Client meeting at three.’ He held his hand out towards Donna and she took it guiltily. ‘Thanks very much for lunch, Donna. I enjoyed it.’

Suddenly Donna felt bad. She hadn’t meant for this to happen—for Marcus to disrupt her whole lunch, her whole day. Which left her wondering just what she had expected. She’d known that there was a strong possibility she would see him today. Had she naively supposed that he would pass by her table without a flicker of recognition? Or that they would exchange, at most, a hurried nod?

‘Thanks for everything you’ve done, Tony! Maybe we’ll do this another time.’

‘Er, yes. Quite. Goodbye, Marcus.’ Tony gave a grimace as Marcus clasped his fingers in what was obviously an enthusiastic handshake. ‘Fantastic lunch! Wonderful food! As always.’

‘Thanks very much,’ murmured Marcus.

The two of them watched in silence while Tony Paxman threaded his way between the tables, and suddenly Donna felt almost light-headed as Marcus turned his head to study her. As though she’d just plunged into the swimming-pool-blue of his eyes without having a clue how to swim.

‘Congratulations, Donna,’ he offered drily. ‘You’ve latched onto one of the town’s wealthiest and brightest young lawyers.’

‘His bank balance and his pretty face don’t interest me—I chose him because he was the best.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘At what?’

‘Not what you’re obviously thinking! He was recommended to me,’ she answered, with a sigh. But even as she said it she realised that she didn’t have to justify herself to Marcus. Not any more. He wasn’t her boss. He wasn’t anything except the man who’d given her such a disastrous introduction into the world of lovemaking.

And then dumped her.

‘And did the person who recommended him also tell you that he has just come through a mud-slinging divorce which was very nasty? That he’s ready and available—but only if you don’t mind half his salary going out on his ex-wife and two children? I know that financial embarrassment tends to put some women off.’

And then he gave a brief, unexpected smile which half blinded her. ‘Heavens,’ he murmured. ‘I sounded almost jealous for a moment back there.’

‘Yes, you did,’ she agreed sweetly. ‘But there’s really no need to be, Marcus—my relationship with Tony Paxman is strictly business.’

‘I couldn’t care less about your relationship with anyone!’ He stared insolently at her fingers, which were bare of rings. ‘But I presume that you are still in the marriage market?’

Donna stared at him. ‘I’m still single, if that’s what you mean by your charming question. How about you?’

‘Yeah,’ he said softly. ‘Still single.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘So what are you doing back here, Donna? Are you planning on staying around?’

Was she willing to be interrogated by him? To lay herself open to his opinion and probably his criticism. ‘I’d love to tell you about it, Marcus.’ She smiled as she realised that there were a million and one things she could be legitimately occupying herself with. ‘Pity I don’t have the time right now.’

Something in her manner told him it wasn’t true. But no surprises there. Hadn’t she lied to him before? Only then he’d been too young and too blind with lust to see it. ‘I bet it’s nothing urgent,’ he commented silkily. ‘Nothing that can’t wait.’

‘But I might be rushing off to an urgent appointment,’ she objected.

‘Might be. But you’re not,’ he breathed, his voice thickening as he recalled the wasted opportunity of the one night he’d spent with her. ‘You’ve got the pampered air of a woman who has taken the day off work.’

He pulled out the chair opposite her with a question in his eyes. ‘So, why don’t I join you for coffee now that your silver-tongued lawyer has flown?’ he suggested softly. ‘And then you can tell me exactly what you’re doing here.’

CHAPTER TWO

DONNA was torn. Wanting to stay—because when Marcus was in a room it was as though someone had just switched on the lights. Even now. Yet also wanting to run out of the restaurant as fast as her feet would carry her.

And wouldn’t that just convince him that she was still an emotional teenager where he was concerned?

Smoothing the cream silk dress down over her hips, she sat further back on her seat. ‘Okay, then,’ she answered coolly. ‘I will.’

Marcus expelled a soft breath of triumph. He’d seen her hesitate before sliding that irresistible bottom back. So she had overriden her better judgement and decided to stay, had she? A pulse began to throb with slow excitement at his temple. The die had been cast. A smile curved the corners of his lips almost cruelly as he lowered his powerful frame into the chair facing her.

He gave a barely perceptible nod across the room at a watching waitress, and that was the coffee taken care of, then found himself in the firing line of a pair of eyes which were as green as newly mown grass. Eyes which these days were darkened with mascara which had teased the lashes into sooty spikes. Not the bare, pale lashes he’d always used to tease her about.

‘You look completely different, Donna,’ he observed slowly.

She gave him a disbelieving stare. ‘Well, of course I do! I’m nine years older, for a start. People change. Especially women.’ And yet for a moment back there she had felt just like the unsophisticated teenager he obviously remembered. ‘And I can’t look that different,’ she declared, in surprise. ‘Seeing as you recognised me straight away.’

‘Yeah.’ Just from one, swift glance across a busy restaurant. He’d surprised himself. Maybe it had been the unforgettable fire of her hair. Or the curves of her body. Or that rope of amber beads at her throat—golden beads as big as pebbles. He swallowed as he remembered the only other time he had seen her wearing those. ‘Maybe you’re just printed indelibly on my mind,’ he drawled.

‘I do tend to have that effect on people,’ she agreed, mock-seriously, and she could tell that her new-found sophistication surprised him.

Marcus might not know it, but he’d been largely responsible for her transformation from chambermaid to business woman. How many times had she planned to knock him dead if ever she saw him again? Well, now he was sitting just a few feet away from her. Was he really as indifferent to her as he appeared to be?

‘So, how have I changed, Marcus?’ she asked him sweetly.

He leaned back in the chair and took the opportunity to study her, which gave him far more pleasure than he felt comfortable with. Donna King had turned into a real little head-turner, he recognised wryly—despite her unconventional looks and her even more unconventional background.

He’d worked long enough in the high-octane world of upmarket restaurants to recognise that the deceptive simplicity of her cream silk dress would cost what most people earned in a month. As would those sexy high-heeled shoes he’d glimpsed as she’d slid her ankles be-neath the table. Shoes like that cost money. He’d bet she had a handbag to match. He glanced at the floor to where, like most women, she had placed it, close to her feet. Yes, she did!

She was looking at him expectantly, and he remembered her question.

How had she changed?

‘You used to look cheap,’ he said honestly, not seeming to notice her frozen expression. ‘Now you look expensive. A high-maintenance woman. With expensive tastes,’ he added. ‘So who pays for it, Donna? Who’s the lucky man?’

Donna bristled. ‘Heavens—but you’re behind the times!’ she scoffed. ‘Women don’t need to rely on men to pay for their finery, not these days. Everything I’m wearing I paid for myself!’

Marcus swallowed. Then it was money well spent.

Someone had threaded a cream satin ribbon though the fiery strands of her hair, sending out a seductive and confusing signal of schoolgirl sophistication. And her breasts were partially concealed behind a cleverly cut jacket. So that one moment he could see their erotic swell, only to have the jacket shield them when she moved her body slightly forward. It was maddening! He felt the intrusive jerk of desire, and willed it to go away.

‘And you’re wearing make-up,’ he observed, almost accusingly. ‘Yet you never used to wear a scrap!’

Donna laughed. ‘Of course I didn’t! When you get up at six in the morning to start stripping the beds, slapping on make-up is the very last thing on your mind. Believe me—a chambermaid’s life doesn’t lend itself very well to glamour.’

‘Not unless you get lucky with the boss.’

She stared at him. ‘But I didn’t get lucky, did I, Marcus? In fact the best bit of luck I had was having the courage to walk away from this place without a backward glance.’

‘Yet you’re here today?’ he said bluntly. ‘Why?’

‘I’m celebrating.’

‘How very intriguing,’ he murmured. ‘Shall I guess why, or are you going to tell me?’

Well, he would find out soon enough, whatever she said—and then he might sit up and wipe that smug smile off his face and take notice of something other than her body—which she noticed he hadn’t stopped looking at.

Donna had opened her mouth to reply, when a very beautiful woman wearing a sleek black dress carried a tray of coffee over to their table.

Donna watched the woman’s gleaming black head, with its perfectly symmetrical centre parting, as she set down the tiny cups and the cafetière in front of them, and the plate of thin almond biscuits. Then she heard her ask, ‘Anything else for you, Marcus?’ in a soft French accent, and noticed that she looked at him with politely concealed lust shining from her dark eyes.

‘No, thanks!’ He shook his head, his attention momentarily distracted as he watched the girl glide away.

‘She seems very efficient,’ observed Donna.

‘Yes, she is.’

‘And very good-looking.’ Now why had she said that?

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Very.’

‘But not one of the waitresses—judging by her dress,’ she probed.

He gave her a perplexed smile. ‘Do you want to talk about my staff, Donna?’

‘Of course not.’

He poured out the coffee, automatically offering Donna the sugar bowl, and she felt a little tug of nos-talgia as she wondered whether he’d actually remembered her excessively sweet tooth.

‘No, thanks. I’ve given up sugar in tea and coffee.’

‘What, even when you’re mysteriously celebrating?’

‘It’s no mystery.’ She sipped her coffee and smiled. ‘That’s the reason I was having lunch with Tony Paxman, if you really want to know. I’ve just tied up a deal.’

‘What kind of deal is that?’

She heard the condescension in his voice and her determination not to be smug or triumphant threatened to fly out of the window. But she hauled it back. ‘A business deal,’ she told him coolly. ‘Which I happen to have set up.’ She sat back in her chair and waited to hear what he would say.

He frowned at her, looking as puzzled as if she’d just announced she was running for mayor. ‘You mean you’re going to be working for someone else?’

‘What a predictable and irritating conclusion to jump to! Actually, I’m going to be working for myself.’ Donna even allowed herself a smile. ‘I’m the boss.’

His hand stilled only briefly on its path to the sugar bowl, and he picked a cube up between his fingers, dipped it into his coffee and bit into it. ‘Doing what?’

She savoured the moment like a hot bath at the end of a long, hard day. ‘Running a restaurant, actually,’ she answered serenely.

‘Where?’

‘Right here in Winchester.’

His interest was stirred, along with his imagination. It was far too close to home to be mere coincidence, surely? The same business, in the same town.

So why?

Was she seeking revenge for what had happened all those years ago? Or was her extraordinary decision to come back based on a far more basic urge? Had that last night left a dark, demon blot on her memory, as it had on his?

Did she want…? Marcus felt the sweet, slow throbbing of sexual excitement begin…Did she want to play out that scene once more—only this time with a far more mutually satisfactory ending?

‘Well, you really must have come along by leaps and bounds, Donna,’ he mused, ‘if you’re planning a capital venture on a chambermaid’s salary.’

If the remark had been made in order to inflame, then it served its purpose. ‘Do I look like a chambermaid?’ she demanded.

His groin ached. No. Right now she looked as he had never imagined she could look. Beautiful and proud and refined and, well…classy.

‘Do I?’ she persisted.

‘No,’ he growled. ‘But that’s what you were the last time I saw you.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘It makes me wonder what you’ve been doing in the intervening years to put you in the position of being able to buy a restaurant.’

‘What do you think I’ve been doing? No—don’t bother answering that! I’ll tell you! I happen to have worked extremely hard since you kicked me out on the street!’

‘Spare me the Victorian imagery,’ he sighed. ‘I gave you a generous pay-off and a job in London to go to. You were the one who decided not to accept.’

‘I didn’t want anything more to do with you!’ she said bitterly.

He shrugged. ‘That was your prerogative—but I refuse to be cast in the role of unfeeling bastard just because it suits your story!’

Donna glared. ‘I managed very well on my own, thank you. I travelled to New Zealand and cooked on a sheep station. I worked in a bar in Manhattan—and on a cruise-liner! I know the hotel and restaurant industry inside out. I worked hard and saved hard—’

‘And played hard, too, I imagine?’ he cut in.

‘That’s something you’ll never know!’ She stared at him curiously across the table—expecting him to show some kind of reaction. But there was none. Just that barely interested, faintly bored expression.

‘Well, I shan’t be losing any sleep over it,’ he offered drily, as he stirred his coffee. ‘It’s a precarious profession. I see new restaurants going under all the time.’

‘Thanks for the few words of encouragement!’

‘That’s a fact, not a scare story. You know what they say—if you can’t stand the heat then get out of the kitchen!’ He gave a slow smile. ‘Want to tell me all about it, Donna—or are you worried about industrial espionage?’

‘No, my only worry is that I might lose my temper!’

He laughed, enjoying the hidden fires of conflict, and his smile sent her blood pressure soaring. ‘Feel free,’ he murmured.

Ignoring the sultry innuendo, Donna paused for effect. ‘I’ve bought The Buttress Guest House!’ she announced.

Marcus narrowed his eyes. So. Not just in the same town, but on the same street. Neighbours as well as rivals? He hid a smile. Not really. No one in their right mind would dream of comparing a run-down boarding house to a five-star hotel! ‘You’re opening up a guest house?’

‘That’s not what I said,’ she contradicted. ‘I’ve bought it and converted it.’

Of course she had, thought Marcus, as all the facts began to slot into place.

The Buttress Guest House had gone bankrupt a couple of years ago and no one had wanted to touch it. It was small and it was tired—with tiny, impractical rooms and, more importantly, no parking facilities.

But recently the house had seen a plumber’s van parked outside it for the best part of a month. Painters and decorators and French-polishers had been employed to work there. Hammers and drills had been heard as you walked past. Interesting pieces of furniture had been seen disappearing into the beautiful old house.

Marcus, along with most other people in the town, had assumed that the house was being converted back to a private residence before being put on the property market again. Now it seemed he’d been wrong.

‘You’ve converted it,’ he breathed, and stared at her assessingly. ‘Into what?’

‘A tea-room, actually.’

‘A tea-room?’

‘That’s what I said!’

He very nearly laughed, but something in the proud way she’d said it stopped him. ‘How quaint,’ he murmured.

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

‘It wasn’t supposed to be a compliment.’ He frowned, and instead of feeling angry he felt a maddening rush of the protectiveness she’d always used to bring out in him. ‘Have you taken any business advice, Donna? Seriously?’

‘If only you knew just how insulting that question sounded! Or maybe you do! Of course I took advice! And I did accounting at night school!’ Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Why?’

‘Because there’s no parking for any cars, that’s why!’ he exploded. ‘Didn’t it occur to you to ask why the place had been on the market for so long? Or did you think it was a bargain, just waiting for you to breeze along and buy it?’

‘For your information, I don’t need any parking!’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Yes, really! The property happens to be on the route of at least two official Winchester Walks. The tourist office know all about me. They’re going to help get me started and I’m hoping that word of mouth will do the rest. People won’t need cars—and that’s the kind of customer I want! People who are interested in history and sightseeing, and can be bothered to walk down the road for a cup of tea and a piece of cake instead of polluting the atmosphere in some horrible gas-guzzling machine!’

There was silence.

‘You’re crazy!’ he said at last. ‘Crazy and impetuous!’

‘What’s the matter?’ She gave him a steady, cool look. ‘Do you think that being my own boss is too good for someone of my pedigree?’

‘What your mother did for a living didn’t concern me,’ he said coldly. ‘But the fact that you deceived me did. But then our whole relationship was built on a tissue of lies, wasn’t it?’

‘Relationship?’ she scorned. ‘Oh, come on, Marcus! To describe what we shared as a “relationship” is not only inaccurate—it’s insulting to relationships!’

He sat back in his chair and studied her, the ice-blue eyes as cool as she had ever seen them. ‘So tell me—is this whole enterprise of yours some naive plan for revenge?’

Donna blinked at him in genuine astonishment. ‘Revenge?’

‘It’s a natural progression, if you stop to think about it,’ he mused. ‘You striking out, in a primitive kind of way, to make me pay for what happened between us.’

For a moment she was dumbfounded, and it took a few incredulous seconds before she could speak. ‘Marcus—please credit me with a little more intelligence than that. I’m not stupid enough to set myself up to be miserable—and pursuing some sort of vendetta against you would make anyone miserable.’

‘Maybe being miserable is a price worth paying.’ He shrugged. ‘Depends how badly you want to pay me back!’

She gave him a look of undiluted amazement, realising that maybe he didn’t know her at all. ‘What a disgustingly over-inflated ego you have, Marcus! Do you really think that I would stake everything I own on a venture like this unless I thought I could make some kind of success of it?’

‘I have no idea. Maybe I’ve misjudged you,’ he said, sounding as though he didn’t think he had at all. ‘But in that case—how did you manage to keep it so quiet for so long?’ he mused. ‘And why?’

‘How?’ She smiled. ‘I hired a good lawyer. You said yourself that Tony Paxman was expensive. Well, he’s good—and you always get what you pay for—that’s something else I’ve learnt. As for why…’ She met his gaze steadily. ‘I suspected that you might try and block the sale if you knew who was behind it.’

And she was right—damn her! Not because he feared competition—he’d always been able to deal with that. No, it was more to do with the effect she had on him…Marcus was silent as he dragged oxygen into his body and fought to swamp his instincts. He felt unwelcome heat invade him. She always made him want what he didn’t need…

Seconds ticked by as his heart thundered and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stung like pin-pricks. He didn’t speak. Didn’t dare to. Not until he was sure that his feelings were under control once more. Only then did he speak, lacing his words with sarcasm. ‘So, it’s open warfare, is it, Donna?’ he drawled.

‘Of course not! I’m sure there’s room for both of us,’ she said mock-generously. ‘People will choose where they want to eat.’

‘As you did today,’ he remarked obscurely. ‘But maybe you had your own special reasons for wanting to eat here.’

Donna held her breath. ‘Like what?’

‘Like me.’

‘You?’

‘Mmm. Me. There are plenty of other places you could have taken your lawyer to. Maybe you just couldn’t wait to see me again.’

It was partly true—but not for the reasons he was implying, that she was still vulnerable where he was concerned. Seeing Marcus again had been intended to be the final proof that not only had she turned her life around, but she had succeeded in forgetting the man who had brought her nothing but heartache.

Donna opened her mouth without thinking, and the words came fizzing out before she could take them back. ‘And why would I want to see you again, Marcus? Why would I want to re-acquaint myself with a man who gave me nothing but grief? The man who strode in and took exactly what he wanted and found he couldn’t handle it afterwards! Was that the real reason you sacked me, Marcus—not because I’d lied to you, but because I re-minded you of what you’d done? Were you feeling guilty that you’d seduced a poor little virgin?’

‘You’re talking like a victim, Donna—and I can assure you that you were nothing of the kind. For an innocent you certainly knew how to be provocative.’ His mouth tightened as he lowered his voice. ‘As for seduction—that’s too fine a word to describe what was a very regrettable incident all round.’

‘A “very regrettable incident”?’ she repeated in disbelief. ‘My God—I’m going to enjoy becoming the most popular eaterie in town! I hope all your clients come flocking to me!’

He gave a sad shake of his head as he rose to his feet. ‘Oh, Donna,’ he sighed. ‘You may be older—but you don’t seem to have acquired a lot of wisdom along the way. Your hare-brained scheme won’t work. Believe me.’

‘Only time will tell!’

His smile was wry. ‘I’ll try very hard not to gloat when my prediction comes true.’

‘And I’ll be laughing all the way to the bank when it doesn’t!’

‘We’ll see.’ He tore his eyes away from that riveting glimpse of her breasts and walked out of the restaurant, leaving Donna and just about every other female in the room staring wide-eyed after him.

CHAPTER THREE

DONNA paid her bill and then made her way out of the restaurant, trying not to notice that people were staring and wondering if it was because she’d been sitting with Marcus.

It had not been the meeting she’d fantasised about. She had been naive. And stupid. Imagining that all those sparks of sexual attraction would have been extinguished over the years.

Outside, the afternoon sunshine was beginning to fade, and a tiny breeze had blown up which made her shiver, turning her flesh to goosebumps beneath the cream silk jacket.

She turned and walked up the street towards her newly purchased future, her high-heeled shoes clipping over the familiar pavements until she stopped outside The Buttress and looked up at it. At the worn, wooden door and the ancient brick—all warm and terracotta-coloured in the dying light of the sun. Hers.