From Mistresses To Wives?. Lee Wilkinson

lightly. ‘It’s like saying she’s looking old!’

      ‘Hardly germane at your age.’ He smiled back. ‘Too many late nights, maybe? Zac doesn’t strike me as a man content to don a pair of slippers and watch TV of an evening.’

      ‘You’re right,’ she said, still on the same light note. ‘He’s far from ready to settle down to domesticity. Me too, for that matter.’

      ‘Well, providing you’re both of the same mind, there’s nothing to worry about. My marriage might have lasted a lot longer than it did if we’d shared the same outlook on life. I wanted kids, Christine saw them as too much of a tie. Something we should have gone into before we took the plunge, I suppose, but the subject never came up.’

      Jessica kept a tight rein on her emotions as she gave him the file he asked for. So she was looking a little off-colour. Hardly a cause for concern on its own.

      Except that it wasn’t on its own, of course. She was more than a week late. Still not such a lot, but she’d never fluctuated by that much before.

      Suspicion became certainty the very next morning when she was struck by a sudden wave of nausea on rising. She made it to the bathroom just in time, viewing her pale face and lack-lustre eyes through the mirror in wry acceptance. Zac had already gone down, which was some relief. She was going to need to come to terms with this herself before telling him. Not that his reaction was likely to be a bad one with his grandfather still pulling the strings.

      Women were at something of an advantage when not looking on top form in having the use of make-up. Jessica applied a light foundation, and took extra care with her eyes to combat the lack of sparkle. The result wasn’t perfect, but she doubted if Zac would notice any difference.

      Breakfast finished, he was on his second cup of coffee by the time she got downstairs, his attention concentrated on the morning newspaper.

      ‘I was beginning to think you’d decided to go back to bed,’ he commented without looking up. ‘You’d better get a move on if you want a lift in. I’ve an early appointment. The coffee’s fresh, and there’s bread already in the toaster.’

      Jessica fancied neither, but crying off breakfast altogether was hardly likely to go unnoticed. She made the toast, and spread a little marmalade, unable to face even the thought of butter. One sip of coffee was enough to convince her that drinking the rest would be tantamount to announcing the condition she was already taking as definite. She was glad she’d only half filled the cup to start with.

      ‘Are you likely to be going away again in the near future?’ she asked.

      ‘There’s nothing on the immediate agenda,’ he said. There was a slight drawing together of the dark brows as he looked across at her, but if he noted anything untoward in her appearance, he made no comment. ‘Why?’

      Jessica shrugged. ‘I just wondered.’

      ‘Thinking about that proper honeymoon I promised you, by any chance?’ he queried. ‘Unfortunately, this isn’t the best time to go to the Maldives. It’s the start of their rainy season. Plenty of other places, though.’

      Jessica stirred herself, shaking her head emphatically. ‘I didn’t mean that at all. In fact, I’d forgotten all about it!’

      Regard enigmatic, he said, ‘So think about it. I like to keep my promises. Just name the place, or places, you most fancy seeing.’

      ‘I can’t!’ Her tone was too abrupt; she took steps to soften the rejection. ‘I mean, I can’t take time off now after just starting the job.’

      ‘You don’t have to do the damned job at all!’ he declared with sudden force.

      Jessica firmed her jaw. ‘I know that. I want to do it.’ For as long as possible, she tagged on mentally. She swallowed as nausea stirred again, pushing back her chair. ‘We’d better get moving if you want to make that appointment.’

      Zac made no further reference to the subject. He didn’t speak much at all on the way to Holbourn. He’d pick her up at five-thirty if nothing cropped up in the meantime, he said on dropping her off.

      The day was fraught. Jessica wasn’t sick again, but she felt decidedly queasy. It could take as long as three months for the hormones to sort themselves out, she’d read somewhere. The nausea could apparently be relieved by medication, which called for a visit to a doctor. Zac would have one, of course, but she wasn’t ready yet to give him the news. Not while there was still the slightest chance that it was a false alarm.

      She slipped out at lunchtime and bought a pregnancy testing kit, then spent fifteen minutes in the cloakroom nerving herself to do the test. The result proved positive, removing the last doubt from her mind.

      Standing there, gazing at the strip, Jessica was aware of a stirring deep down in the very centre of her being. Emotional, not physical, she realised. New life was already growing inside her, minuscule at present, but destined to become a fully developed human being. Whatever else happened, this child was going to be loved and protected, she vowed.

      Having resolved to tell Zac on the way home, she was dashed when he phoned to say he was going to be late. He didn’t say why, and she didn’t ask, unwilling to give any leeway to the thought that had sprung in the back of her mind. The news would keep. In fact, a little more time to assimilate it properly herself wouldn’t go amiss.

      Zac took it for granted that she called for a taxi to transport her to and from the office on the occasions he was unable to do it himself. At peak times, Jessica found the tube just as quick. She had never suffered from claustrophobia in her life, but tonight, strap hanging on the packed train, she felt everything closing in on her. Hormonal again, she reckoned, thankful to emerge. Taxis might be preferable after all.

      The time was going to come when she had to give the job up altogether, of course. Sitting behind a desk with a front the size Sarah’s had been would prove impossible. Whether Zac would still find her desirable when she looked like that was open to question.

      She made herself a snack when he hadn’t turned up by eight o’clock. Not because she felt like eating, but because she had a responsibility towards the life growing inside her. By nine she was beginning to doubt, by ten to definitely suspect. When he finally arrived at half-past, she was ready to let fly.

      ‘Where do you think I’ve been?’ he responded curtly. ‘With another woman?’

      The directness of it took her aback for a moment, but only for a moment. Attack had always been the best means of defence.

      ‘Why not?’ she challenged. ‘We’ve been married a whole six and a half weeks! A long time for a man as used as you are to playing the field!’

      One dark brow lifted sardonically. ‘If I’ve given the impression I’m bored with you, I must try to do better. If you want the truth, I’ve been seeing an old friend. Male, as it happens. In town for the one night before heading back to New York.’

      Jessica rallied her waning forces. ‘So why didn’t you tell me that when you phoned?’

      ‘Because I was already late for a meeting. I could have got my secretary to phone you with more detail, of course, but I didn’t think that would go down too well. Was I wrong?’

      ‘No,’ she said after a moment.

      Zac eyed her dispassionately. ‘You look tired. You should have gone to bed.’

      ‘I’m fine.’ It was an effort to keep her tone from reflecting her feelings. She tried a new track. ‘I phoned Sarah this morning. They’re both still doing well. She wants us to go over when she’s home.’

      ‘She might, Brady certainly won’t.’

      The anger returned full force. ‘It’s about time the two of you started pulling together!’ she snapped. ‘You’re like dogs fighting over a bone—with your grandfather on the sideline urging you on! You’re cousins, for God’s sake!’

      ‘Even