It was a facade-stripping challenge that couldn’t be refused by any man worth his salt and it spun James’ mind right around. Gone were any thoughts of illness. Ruth Worthington had just been transformed into a fire-eating dragon lady and James was already sharpening his own weapons to fight for Lucy as he stepped forward.
‘Thank you. I’d like to come in and hear what Lucy has to tell me,’ he said, all his aggressive and protective instincts flooding to the fore.
Ruth Worthington stood back and let him in, her shoulders squared now, very upright and unyielding in her stance. James paused in the hall, giving her time to shut the door and precede him to wherever Lucy was. She marched down the hall ahead of him, obviously prepared to seize the fighting ground and make it hers.
James followed, determined not to be outplayed by what he now perceived as very definitely the enemy. Something was very wrong here and he was intent on rescuing Lucy from it. No mother had the right to dominate or screw up her daughter’s life. Lucy felt free with him. She had every right to freedom of choice.
They entered a kitchen. Lucy sat slumped over a table, head in her hands, a picture of despairing dejection. Whatever had been going here, it was going to stop right now!
‘Lucy?’ he called, demanding her attention.
Her hands flew away from her face as she jerked it towards him, shock widening her eyes and parting her lips. ‘James?’ It was an incredulous whisper.
‘I figured you needed some support and I’m here to give it,’ he declared.
‘Support?’ she echoed, seemingly unable to take in his offer or what it meant.
‘Well, we’ll soon see about that,’ Ruth Worthington said in a harsh, judgemental tone, raising James’ hackles even further. ‘Tell him, Lucy. Either you tell him or I will.’
It was an uncompromising threat, and Lucy turned to her mother, clearly appalled by it and desperately seeking some other course. ‘Mum, it’s…it’s my decision,’ she pleaded, her hands turning palm upwards in painful eloquence.
James seethed at the torment her mother was putting her through. ‘You don’t have to take her orders, Lucy,’ he insisted vehemently.
Ruth Worthington ignored him, still holding Lucy’s attention despite his strong assertion. ‘I won’t have you living in a fool’s paradise as I did,’ she said, surprising him with a complete change of tone. Determination was tempered by a note of anguished sympathy, and her hands made their own agitated appeal. ‘You must tell him, Lucy. Then you’ll know.’
Feeling somewhat confused by this new twist, James decided he agreed with her. ‘I think that’s a good idea. Then I’ll know, too. The sooner, the better.’
A fool’s paradise…
The words sliced into Lucy’s heart and cut out any lingering temptation to carry on some deceit with James. They sliced into her mind, clearing it of the fog of desire that four weeks of unbridled lust had built up. Four weeks—only a month—but there’d been eight months of working together before that. James had more than long enough to know what he felt about her and how important she was to his life.
She gathered herself together and stood up. The flash of proud approval in her mother’s eyes strengthened her will to face James with the truth. She straightened her shoulders, knowing she was not alone, whatever happened. Her mother would stand by her.
James stood proud and tall, too, at the other end of the table. His vivid blue eyes were blazing at her, projecting a fierce command to explain what was going on. He wore casual clothes—red sports shirt, cream slacks—and his male animal sex appeal seemed to be heightened by the tension in the room. A warrior come to do battle, Lucy thought—big, indomitable and determined to win.
It made her feel very small, very vulnerable, very frightened of losing. Her frantic mind clutched at what he’d said a few moments ago—he’d come to give her support. Please let it be true, she prayed, though she didn’t really know what he meant by it or what had brought him here. All she knew was she had to say it, so she forced out the fateful words.
‘I’m pregnant.’
‘Pregnant?’ he echoed dazedly, disbelief and confusion chasing across his face. He shook his head. ‘But you said…’
‘No, I didn’t, James. You assumed I had my period and I…’ Shame burned her cheeks. She swallowed hard, working some moisture into her dry mouth. ‘I let you because…’
‘How can you be pregnant?’ he cut in, looking bewildered. ‘You said…you were safe.’
Safe, safe, safe…was that word going to mock her forever?
A tide of violent emotion swept through Lucy, spilling out a torrent of her own torment. ‘I swear to you I didn’t mess up the contraception. I never missed a pill. Every morning without fail I took it, so it’s not my fault. You…I…we…’ She faltered, losing the plot.
‘You’re blaming me?’ he asked with a wry twist of his mouth.
Out of the whirl of her mind shot the one and only cause for failure she’d thought of. ‘You’re just too sexy, James Hancock. And obviously very potent. Too potent.’
‘What?’
His stunned expression churned Lucy into a further wild indiscretion. ‘You know perfectly well what I mean and don’t you deny it!’
‘Oh, I won’t.’ He shook his head. ‘No way would I deny my part in getting you pregnant. Seems to me you’re the one who’s been in denial.’ He frowned at her. ‘Is this what you were so uptight about on Friday?’
Denial…deceit…in wretched shame Lucy offered the only excuse she had. ‘I didn’t know how you’d take it.’
‘Lucy…’ His tone was gently chiding. The frown disappeared and a smile started spreading across his face. ‘So you’re mostly upset because it wasn’t planned.’
‘No. Yes. I just didn’t know if…well, I didn’t know how you’d take it, James,’ she finished helplessly.
‘A baby…’ He started grinning. ‘This is bound to be one really special kid, being conceived against the odds.’ Then he was coming around the table towards her, still grinning. ‘We’re going to have a baby.’
It was Lucy’s turn to be stunned. Could she believe the pleasure he was emanating? ‘Yes. Yes, we are,’ she affirmed somewhat breathlessly.
‘I know you like to feel in control of things, Lucy, but I guess nature decided on working a little miracle for us, and now that it’s happened…it doesn’t really matter, does it?’