Michelle Douglas - First Comes Baby...

Loud and clear.

‘The day after tomorrow I’m out of here, and I won’t be back for a good three months.’

Exactly what she’d expected.

‘Do you hear me, Meg? Can I make myself any clearer?’

‘The day after tomorrow, huh?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you won’t be back until around May?’

‘Precisely.’ He set off towards the stairs.

She folded her arms even tighter. She waited until he’d placed his foot on the first riser. ‘So you’ve given up on the idea of fatherhood, then?’

He froze. And then he swung around and let forth with a word so rude she clapped her hands across her stomach in an attempt to block her unborn baby’s ears. ‘Ben!’

‘You…’ The finger he pointed at her shook.

‘I nothing,’ she shot back at him, her anger rising to match his. ‘You can’t just storm in here and demand all the rights and privileges of fatherhood unless you’re prepared to put in the hard yards. Domesticity and commitment includes dealing with my father and your grandmother. It includes helping out at the odd wedding, attending baptisms and neighbourhood pool parties and all those other things you loathe.’

She strode across to stand directly in front of him. ‘Nobody is asking you to put in those hard yards—least of all me.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘I know exactly what you’re up to.’

He probably did. That was what happened when someone knew you so well.

‘You think the idea of helping out at this wedding is going to scare me off.’

She raised an eyebrow. Hadn’t it?

‘It won’t work, Meg.’

They’d see about that. ‘Believe me, Ben, a baby is a much scarier proposition than a wedding. Even this wedding.’

‘You don’t think I’ll stick it out?’

Not for a moment. ‘If you can’t stick the wedding out then I can’t see how you’ll stick fatherhood out.’ And she’d do everything she could to protect her child from that particular heartache. ‘End of story.’

The pulse at the base of his jaw thumped and his eyes flashed blue fire. It was sexy as hell.

She blinked and then took a step back. Stupid pregnancy hormones!

He thrust out his hand. ‘You have yourself a deal, Meg, and may the best man win.’

She refused to shake it. Her eyes stung. She swallowed a lump the size of a Victorian sponge. ‘This isn’t some stupid bet, Ben. This is my baby’s life!’

His face softened but the fire in his eyes didn’t dim. ‘Wrong, Meg. Our baby. It’s our baby’s life.’

He reached out and touched the backs of his fingers to her cheek. And then he was gone.

‘Oh, Ben,’ she whispered after him, reaching up to touch the spot on her cheek that burned from his touch. He had no idea what he’d just let himself in for.

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