Tall, Dark... Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

stiffened defensively. ‘I hope that wasn’t yet another snipe at me?’

      ‘Not at all,’ he came back smoothly. ‘In fact, I’ve left all my sniper bullets at home this evening! Did you telephone your parents today?’ he prompted briskly, before she could come back with another sharp comment.

      She had. And a very difficult call it had been, too. She couldn’t just tell her parents over the telephone that she was pregnant, for goodness’sake; she owed them more than that.

      But as soon as she had mentioned bringing a male friend home with her, her mother had gone into hyperdrive. No doubt she had the colour of the bridesmaids’ dresses and the flowers picked out for the wedding already!

      Which posed yet another problem for Hebe.

      If, as Nick insisted, she really did have marry him, or risk him trying to take the baby from her, then she didn’t want her parents to realise why they were getting married. She knew she wouldn’t be able to keep the baby secret for long, and she didn’t mind them finding out about that so much, but she couldn’t let them see that Nick didn’t love her.

      Her parents, she was sure, had always dreamt of a romantic wedding for their only daughter—with a white flowing dress, and orange blossom, and confetti by the bucketful.

      The quick wedding that Nick had talked about would no doubt be a visit to a register office with none of those things!

      But even that wouldn’t have been so bad if the main ingredient had been in evidence.

      Love.

      Like her parents, Hebe had always assumed she would marry someone she loved, who loved her in return. Fifty per cent of that—her own feelings for Nick—just wouldn’t do!

      ‘Hebe?’ Nick prompted guardedly at her continued silence.

      She drew in a ragged breath. ‘Yes, I called them. I told them I was bringing you to meet them on Saturday. They jumped to the obvious conclusion,’ she added flatly.

      That she was bringing home the man she intended marrying, Nick hoped. He wondered why Hebe didn’t look a little happier about it.

      It was what she wanted, after all. The Cavendish money at her disposal. The fact that he came along with the money might have come as something of a shock to her, but, as he had just told her, not too many things turned out quite as you planned them!

      Including the way he felt about Hebe…

      When his marriage to Sally, his college sweetheart, had broken down, he had vowed never to fall in love or marry again. But inwardly he had known after that one night he and Hebe had spent together—and tried to dismiss!—that Hebe was different. He’d known and been all the crueller in dismissing her the following morning.

      But he hadn’t forgotten her in all the weeks he had been away. In fact he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman during that time—had known then that he would have to see Hebe again when he got back to London.

      Of course he hadn’t expected the portrait!

      Or to come back to London and find that Hebe was pregnant!

      Deliberately so?

      He couldn’t be absolutely sure about that. That was the problem…

      But at least he was willing to make a go of this marriage. Why didn’t Hebe just accept that if he had decided just to go for custody of the baby when it was born she wouldn’t have found herself in half such an advantageous position?

      ‘Never mind, Hebe,’ he advised hardly, reaching into his jacket pocket to take out a small velvet box and place it on the table in front of her. ‘Maybe this will help cheer you up.’ He sat back to watch her reaction.

      Which wasn’t at all what he had imagined it would be.

      Hebe was staring down at the ring box as if it were about to leap up and bite her!

      Or maybe it was just that she had thought she would get to choose her engagement ring herself, he realised harshly. A nice big rock of a diamond, no doubt.

      Remembering the ring inside the box, Nick didn’t think she was going to be disappointed!

      He was.

      What idiotic part of his brain had tried to convince him to give Hebe a chance? That perhaps he had been mistaken about her motives and maybe she hadn’t got herself pregnant deliberately at all?

      Whichever part it was, it needed shooting!

      ‘For God’s sake open it, Hebe,’he rasped, and sat forward slightly. ‘I’m pretty sure you’re going to like it,’ he said impatiently. ‘And if you don’t we can change it for something bigger and better,’ he added mockingly.

      He was a fool, a blind, stupid fool, for wanting to believe that maybe Hebe’s physical reaction to him meant she felt something more for him, after all, than just an appreciation of his bank balance.

      But she was right. It was just sex.

      Well, she could have as much of that as she liked. He would keep his emotions for the baby when it was born!

      Hebe swallowed hard, reaching out for the box tentatively, sure she already knew what was inside. She felt stunned by the gesture. Nick had said they were getting married. Just that. But if her hunch was right this box contained an engagement ring. It was so totally unexpected.

      She looked up at him uncertainly before opening the box, searching those hard, uncompromising features for some sign that this ring meant any more than a shackle of ownership.

      The narrowed coldness of his eyes, that mocking twist to his lips, told her it didn’t.

      She lifted the lid to the box, not quite gasping as she gazed down at the ring inside, but her breath definitely arrested in her lungs, and her eyes were wide.

      It was the hugest diamond she had ever seen—several carats at least—surrounded by half a dozen slightly smaller diamonds, and the name on the lid of the box alone told her it must have cost a small fortune. A very minute part of the Cavendish millions, but still a fortune.

      She closed the lid with a resounding snap. ‘Why are you giving me this?’ she challenged.

      ‘Why do you think?’ he snapped impatiently.

      ‘Are you deliberately trying to insult me?’ She frowned agitatedly, pushing the box back across the table at him before putting both her hands firmly under the table, as if to stop him making her accept something she didn’t want. Or need.

      An engagement ring between them was a farce. And that ring—that ring with its gaudy diamonds—was nothing but an insult.

      Nick made no effort to take the box. ‘You would have preferred a sapphire instead, maybe? Or possibly another emerald? We can go back to the store tomorrow—’

      ‘I don’t remember saying I wanted an engagement ring from you at all,’ she told him forcefully. ‘But that—that—You are deliberately trying to insult me, aren’t you?’ She glared at him, two bright spots of angry colour in her cheeks.

      His eyes glittered with a similar anger. ‘What’s wrong with it? Not big enough? I’m sure they have others—’

      ‘Not big enough!’ she repeated incredulously. ‘If the diamonds had been any bigger they would have blinded everyone in the restaurant.’

      She would not walk around with that thing on her finger—a deliberately ostentatious sign of ownership. She might as well walk around with a neon sign over her head saying This woman has just been bought!

      Because that was obviously what Nick thought he had done!

      ‘Will you keep your voice down, Hebe?’ he muttered, as several other diners looked their way curiously. ‘Tell me what’s wrong with the ring, and we’ll change it.’

      She