Abby Green - Latin Lovers - Seductive Frenchman

As if the telephone wires were buzzing, the phone rang again shortly after. It was Lisa. She decided to tell her too, feeling a little more weight lift off her shoulders. She refused to say who the father was, only that she was going to see him the next day and that, no, he wouldn’t be a part of her life.

After the initial screech Lisa was for once stunned into silence. Jane managed to see the humour and appreciate this uncustomary role-reversal. It was nice to have the support of a friend, but she declined her offer to come with her. She had to face Xavier alone.

The following morning in the cab, Jane tried to quell the mammoth butterflies in her stomach. She felt nauseous, and knew it wasn’t morning sickness. She hadn’t had that in a few weeks now. The thought of seeing Xavier again had her blood running cold through her veins. Then hot. How would he look in this climate? Somehow less? As if! She knew all too well that he would stand out like an exotic hothouse flower.

Luckily, after an intensely busy period with work, the teacher she had been subbing for had returned from sick leave, and Jane as yet hadn’t been placed anywhere else. She couldn’t contemplate it right now.

The cab drew up under an ominously grey sky outside a huge gleaming building.

Salgado-Lézille Enterprises.

After she got out she fought the urge to turn around, step right back into the cab and tell the driver to go back to her flat. Instead she put one foot in front of the other.

Inside the building there was a hushed reverence more in keeping with a cathedral. No doubt because the boss was in attendance, she thought darkly.

At the reception desk she gave her name and got a security tag. Then she was directed to the top floor. The lift was entirely glass, and she could see the ground floor slip away. The panic rose again.

After agonisingly long seconds it came to a stop and the door swished open with a little ping. She stepped into a luxuriously carpeted hall. A pretty girl behind a desk took her name again, and told her where she could wait on a comfortable couch just outside some huge imposing oak doors. Jane had dressed down, in jeans, sneakers and a sweater. She didn’t want him to think she was coming here for anything else. And she was protective of her small telltale bump.

The door opened and her heart jumped into her mouth. It revealed a matronly woman with a neat grey bob. She emerged, holding out a hand.

‘Hello, dear, you must be Jane. I’m Molly, Mr Salgado’s UK assistant. Please come through.’

Jane stuttered a few words and followed her into an office where Molly took her coat and stopped outside another set of doors. It was like Fort Knox. She rapped lightly on the door, and opened it before turning to let Jane pass through. She felt a hysterical moment of wanting to bury her head in this woman’s chest and have her tell her it would all be OK. But she didn’t.

When she walked in she couldn’t see Xavier at first, the office was so big. She felt at a serious disadvantage. The door clicked shut behind her.

Then she saw him. Standing with hands in his pockets in an exquisite suit before a huge window that took in the whole of London, or so it seemed. His tall dark shape was silhouetted against the skyline. Master of all he surveyed.

The blood rushed to her head and there was a roaring in her ears. He was saying something, coming towards her. She could feel herself swaying for an interminable moment, but just before she fell strong arms came around her and then she was half-sitting, half-lying on some sort of chaise longue. Xavier was crouching down beside her, holding a glass with some dark liquid.

‘Here—take a sip of this. You’re whiter than a ghost.’

In such close proximity every cell jumped to zinging life. So much for hoping that any attraction might have diminished. It was still there, like a plug going back into a socket. The energy running between them was palpable.

She moved to sit up. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened …’

‘When was the last time you ate?’

‘What?’

‘Food—you know, we use it to stay alive. You look as though you haven’t eaten a square meal in weeks.’

Jane stifled a defensive retort. She knew she’d lost weight since she’d got home, but she just hadn’t had time … and the doctor had reassured her that it was quite a normal phenomenon to actually lose weight when first becoming pregnant.

‘I’m fine … it’s isn’t any concern of yours what I eat or don’t eat.’

He left the untouched glass on a table beside her and stepped away. ‘Of course not … To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?’

Jane stood, not liking the way he was towering over her, and was relieved that the dizziness had dissipated somewhat.

‘I’ve come to tell you something.’

His gaze slanted down at her, no trace of warmth on his face.

‘Ah … could it be that you’re having second thoughts about my offer? Back in the cold, grey reality of England you’re realising what an opportunity you passed up?’

She looked at him blankly for a second before exploding, nerves making her reaction stronger. ‘Unbelievable … how arrogant is that? You know, I never thought you had such an inflated sense of self, but obviously I was wrong.’

‘Well, then, why are you here?’ he sneered. ‘Hardly to catch up on old times, eh? As I seem recall you were only too eager to see the back of me that morning … couldn’t even wait to say goodbye.’

Her head started to pound. This wasn’t going to plan. First almost fainting, and now he thought she wanted to be his mistress after all.

‘No … I mean yes. Look, I really do have something to tell you, and it’s not easy …’ She looked at him beseechingly.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him sit down behind his desk. Space. She sat down on the other side, her hands held tight together in her lap.

‘The fact is … I know I said that I thought it was OK, but I was wrong … the truth is …’

‘Yes?’ he bit out impatiently.

She squared her chin and looked at him unflinchingly. ‘I’m pregnant.’

The words dropped into a deafening silence. He didn’t react. His face was like a mask, Jane had a moment of clarity when she knew that was why he was so successful at business—a perfect poker face. He got up and went to stand at the window with his back to her.

‘Xavier …’

‘I heard you,’ he said, in a curiously flat voice. Then he turned around abruptly, green eyes pinning her to the spot.

‘It’s mine?’ A slight inflection made it a question.

She stood angrily, her whole frame quivering. ‘Well, of course it’s yours … how dare you imply that you might not be the father? I haven’t had time to do anything since I got home much less find a new lover and try to get pregnant in the gleeful anticipation of tracking you down and trying to pass the baby off as yours.’

He ran an impatient hand through his hair, and for the first time she noticed lines on his face that she didn’t remember. He looked tired.

‘Look, I’m sorry … it’s just a bit much to take in. How much … when are you due?’

‘In March.’

‘It must have been that first time.’

‘Yes.’ Jane felt a blush ascending from her chest all the way up to her face. Couldn’t stop the torrent of images that were all too frequent, haunting her imagination. She tried to avoid his focus. She started babbling. ‘Ah … look, I just wanted to let you know. The last thing I want is for you to feel that you have to be responsible for anything … I don’t expect anything from you at all. I’m going to bring the baby up myself. Of course you can come and see him … or her … whenever you want. Why don’t I let you get used to the idea?’