To Make a Marriage (6 page)

She arched against him as his hand explored her there, feeling as if she would burst with the heated sensations. And then she did burst, but it was like nothing she had ever known before, every part of her feeling suddenly hypersensitive as the pleasure coursed through her, welcoming Adam into her as his body finally joined with hers.

The pleasure that followed was even more intense than that first time, and as the heated quivering of her body brought Adam to his own peak the two of them reached that unknown plateau together in a sensation that seemed to go on and on into eternity…

His
child, he had just said.

Yes, it was Adam's child she carried.

But it was a child that had been conceived in anger rather than love, a fact that had been more than borne out by Adam's dazed expression when he'd raised his head from
the dampness of her breasts to look at her with unfocusing, unrecognising grey eyes.

A shiver of shocked reaction quivered through her. Because if Adam hadn't known he was making love with her, then it had to be—Oh, God!

Andie pushed frantically at his chest, feeling a momentary loss as her body ceased to be joined with his, rolling away from him to gather up her shimmering silver gown and hold it protectively in front of her nakedness. ‘Go, Adam,' she told him woodenly.

He drew in a short breath, still not quite looking at her. ‘I—'

‘Just go, Adam,' she bit out, turning away from him so that he shouldn't see the sudden tears that welled up in her pained green eyes. ‘Please!'

He swallowed hard, gathering up his own scattered clothes, not speaking again until he was once again fully dressed—and looking remotely unapproachable. ‘Andie, I—I don't know what to say,' he began shakily.

Her mouth twisted into the bitter semblance of a smile. ‘Then it's probably best that you say nothing,' she told him tersely. Anything he said now could only make the situation worse. If that were possible!

Adam shook his head. ‘I don't know what happened,' he said. ‘One minute we were furious with each other, the next—!' He gave another shake of his head. ‘I'm sorry, Andie,' he added wretchedly.

Not as sorry as she was. Because, in the absence of the woman he really wanted, she had only been a substitute enough like her in looks to allow Adam the fantasy. As Andie knew only too well, that woman was her own, dead, mother!

She knew it as surely as if Adam had spoken the words
out loud—and she knew she would never forgive him for using her in that way.

She stirred herself now, finally opening her eyes to look across the terrace of the villa to where Adam stood grimly in the shadow of the purple bougainvillaea that ran along one side of the mellow stone building.

She knew as she looked at him that, despite everything, she still loved him…!

 

She hated him.

Adam could see it in the dark green of her eyes as she looked over at him with such cold contempt.

She had never looked lovelier to him, the week she had spent in the warm Majorcan sunshine having given a healthy tan to the silky skin visible above the green bikini, the gentle glow of early pregnancy having given a warm allure to the curves of her body.

That was his child that lay nestled inside that curvaceous body, he acknowledged possessively. His child! And Andie's…

He watched warily as she swung her legs to the floor, sitting up now as she looked across at him with enquiring eyes. It had been this way between them since—since that night, he acknowledged wearily.

He hadn't left her apartment that night only because she'd asked him to. No, he had also seen the shocked dismay in her face when she'd realised what they had just done, a wishing that it had never happened.

He had left her that night knowing they could never go back now, that the easy friendship that had existed between them was no more. That it never would be again.

He hadn't gone straight to his own apartment but had parked his car and walked. And walked. And walked. Des
perately trying to find a way back from the dark abyss they had fallen into. There wasn't one, he had finally accepted.

That conclusion had been borne out over the next few weeks, Andie not around whenever he'd visited Rome at the estate. And Andie had returned the flowers he had sent to her office on the Monday morning following that fatal night, having obviously read the card that had accompanied them, her own message written clearly beneath his apology—‘Not as sorry as I am!'

Not as sorry as she must have been when she'd found she was pregnant with their child…

Adam moved out of the shadows of the villa, having already removed his jacket on the drive from the airport, the heat of the late August Majorcan sunshine having hit him like a blanket as he'd stepped out of the air-conditioned airport.

‘Who told you?' Andie demanded as he came to stand beside her. ‘Or do I really need to ask?'

‘It wasn't Rome,' Adam assured her softly, looking down at her with hooded eyes, still having difficulty accepting that his child nestled in the warm perfection of her body. It didn't really show yet, only a gentle swell visible to the smoothness of her tummy over the green bikini. ‘He is otherwise preoccupied at the moment,' he added derisively.

Andie nodded abruptly, reaching up a hand to the sunglasses that lay amongst her honey-blonde hair, bringing them firmly down over the windows of her eyes. ‘I intend returning for the wedding next month,' she revealed.

The two of them had pushed Rome in the right direction where Audrey was concerned and, having proposed and been accepted, Rome was now wasting no time in making Audrey his wife!

Adam's mouth tightened as he thought of the battle he
had in front of him to do the same where Andie was going to fight against accepting that, probably with the last breath of her body!

‘So who did tell you, Adam?' Andie prompted.

He wished she didn't have those sunglasses covering the usual candidness of her eyes, wanted to reach out and remove them—but he already knew, from the experience of last weekend, that she would recoil away from him if he tried to touch her. She had done it so many times already…

‘I called into your office in the week to see you—'

‘Why?' she queried flatly.

Because he hadn't been able to stay away from her any longer! Because he knew she would never voluntarily make a move to see him. Ever again!

‘You left last weekend without saying goodbye,' he granted, remembering all too clearly his heart-sinking disappointment the previous Sunday when Audrey had told him Andie had left earlier that morning. Before the two of them had been able to talk any further…

Andie's mouth turned down at the corners. ‘I hadn't realised you were such a stickler for good manners, Adam!' she taunted.

He drew in a harsh breath before dropping down onto the lounger next to hers. It hadn't been easy to come here at all, the delays at the airport and subsequent two-hour flight not helping his feelings of trepidation—and his legs were now shaking so badly they wouldn't support him any more!

It hadn't seemed this complicated when he'd been in England. Away from Andie…

He had been shocked to his core when he'd learnt of Andie's pregnancy. But once over that shock, his own part in that pregnancy acknowledged, the way had seemed clear and simple. Andie would have to marry him…

But looking at her now, the unsmiling line of her mouth, the stubborn jut of her chin, Adam knew there was going to be nothing clear or simple about persuading her that a marriage between the two of them was the only answer!

‘I'm not,' he answered her taunt, running a hand through the slight dampness of his silver-blond hair. ‘I—your assistant editor explained that you're away on—on maternity leave.' And his shock on hearing that hadn't yet receded!

‘May I?' he indicated the jug of iced lemonade that sat on the table at her other side, the accompanying glass empty.

‘Help yourself,' she invited, standing up before he could reach across her, slipping lightly by him to go and stand at the railing of the terrace, gazing out over the calm blue-green of the Mediterranean Sea.

Adam drank the lemonade thirstily, wishing, as he looked over at the rigid set of Andie's back, that it were whisky. He definitely felt in need of something stronger than lemonade!

‘It's beautiful here, isn't it?” she murmured as he joined her beside the rail.

It was beautiful, the villa built into the terraced hills on the west coast of the island, a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the sea visible as far as the eye could see.

‘Peaceful, too,' Andie added with a faint sigh.

It must have been peaceful for her—until he'd arrived, Adam acknowledged heavily. He had been to the villa with Rome and Barbara in the past, its remote spot appealing to the other couple. A woman came in from the village every day with the necessary shopping, staying on to cook and clean, meaning that they didn't have to stir from the villa at all if they didn't want to. As Andie didn't seem to have done…

‘I'm sorry, Andie,' Adam said.

Her profile suddenly became rigid as she stared out to
sea, her hands tightly gripping the metal rail. ‘I was too, to begin with,' she admitted jerkily. ‘But now—somehow I don't seem to mind any more,' she acknowledged softly, her face still averted. But one hand moved protectively to the soft swell of her tummy…

His heart leapt at the admission. Although he knew only too well, from her lack of pleasure in his arrival a few minutes ago, that her feelings towards the baby had nothing to do with him, that maternal instinct was probably the reason for her change of heart.

‘I actually meant I was sorry to have interrupted your peace and quiet,' he told her dryly.

Andie glanced at him now, lips twitching as she held back her smile at his humorously raised brows. ‘How silly of me.' She shook her head self-derisively.

Adam became serious again. ‘I— It seems a little early for maternity leave.' He frowned. ‘Is there anything wrong? With you? Or the pregnancy?' His knuckles showed white on the rail as he waited for her answer.

‘No,' she assured him lightly. ‘I did have a little scare early on—it's okay,' she quickly soothed. ‘But Jonas has advised it might be best if I don't continue to work through the pregnancy.'

‘So that's how Danie met the man!' he realised. ‘She didn't waste any time, did she?' he added ruefully; Andie was only three months pregnant.

Andie laughed. ‘Jonas didn't realise what had hit him!'

Adam knew how he felt! The Summer women were absolutely lethal. ‘What are we going to do, Andie?' he prompted.

She stiffened defensively, her mouth once again unsmiling. ‘I have no idea what you are going to do, Adam,' she said. ‘But I am going to soak up the sun for several more weeks, before I have to return for Daddy and Audrey's
wedding, and then I will probably stay at the estate until after the baby is born.'

‘Not “the” baby—
ours
!' he corrected more harshly than he had meant to.

He couldn't help it; the thought of Andie having their baby still made him shake with reaction. Possessive reaction. He wanted to just gather Andie up, her and the baby, and keep them safe for the rest of their lives.

But one look at Andie's determinedly set features told him it wasn't going to be as easy as that!

‘Andie.' He turned to her, gently grasping her shoulders and turning her to face him. Although those damned sunglasses still hid her eyes from him!

‘Don't!' she cried, shying away as he would have reached up and removed the sunglasses. ‘Why have you come here, Adam? What do you want?'

What did he want? If he told her
that
, she would start running and never look back!

Stay cool, Munroe, he instructed himself severely. Hadn't he already done enough to this woman, without scaring the life out of her with the intensity of his feelings concerning her and their expected baby?

‘It's not a question of what I want, Andie,' he ground out. ‘It's a question of what is necessary.'

Her chin tilted challengingly. ‘And that is…?'

‘Marriage!' The word burst out of him forcefully. ‘The two of us have to get married, Andie,' he added with grim determination.

She stiffened even more in the grip of his hands, her face first flushing and then becoming translucently pale.

Almost as if he had physically struck her with his suggestion…!

M
ARRIAGE
…

How ironic.

How amazingly, incredibly, unbelievably ironic. Marriage was a word Andie had never associated with Adam, and certainly had never matched with her own name.

And it wasn't now. Adam didn't want to marry her, he didn't want to marry anyone. He just felt that he had to…!

‘Why are you smiling?' Adam broke harshly into the silence.

Smiling? Was she?

Probably, Andie conceded. What else was there to do in the face of such irony? She loved this man, carried their baby inside her, and he had offered to marry her only because of that baby.

She had known this would happen, of course, had known from the minute he became aware of her pregnancy that Adam would feel compelled to make such an offer.

What alternative did he have? Her father was far from stupid, and, even if neither of them ever revealed to him that it was Adam's baby, their strained manner towards each other, over the months—years?—ahead, would eventually become obvious to Rome. Especially to Rome…! Besides, the baby—son or daughter?—could just look so much like Adam when it was born that there would be no doubt that he was the father.

She looked up at him. ‘Poor Adam,' she murmured ruefully.

‘Poor—!' His hands tightened on her arms. ‘What do you mean by that?' he demanded suspiciously.

She gave a humourless smile. ‘A wife would be bad enough, but a child as well! However would you survive, Adam?' she taunted.

‘The same way every other father does, I suppose,' he replied. ‘With little sleep and a lot of heartache.' He bit out harshly at her questioning look.

That was exactly the way her father had described his own daughters' childhood! Somehow Andie had never thought of Adam in that light…

‘You forgot the warmth and laughter,' she told him huskily.

His mouth twitched. ‘According to Rome that comes later—once the sleepless nights have stopped! He assures me he walked around in a daze for five years while the three of you were babies!'

Andie gave him a sharp look. ‘You haven't talked to my father about—'

‘I very much doubt I would be here to tell the tale if Rome knew it was my child!' Adam cut in drily. ‘I went to see Rome once I left your office—I needed to know where you had gone—and he assured me he's going to strangle the man if he ever finds out who fathered your baby. Apparently you have been less than helpful on that score…?'

‘I have no wish to see you dead—or my father in prison for murdering you!'

Adam's laugh lacked any real humour. ‘That could still happen,' he admitted. ‘Although I understand your lack of enthusiasm for the latter,' he added grimly.

But not for the former, his words implied. However, despite what he might think to the contrary, she had no wish to see anything happen to Adam. She loved him, for good
ness' sake! She just knew it was an emotion he would never reciprocate.

But that didn't mean he couldn't, wouldn't, love their baby. In fact, she was sure that he would. Adam had no family of his own, at least, none that he had ever spoken of, and this baby was his own flesh and blood. His only flesh and blood.

Andie just wasn't sure she could live with him, knowing he loved their child but could never feel anything but affection for her! She wasn't sure—but it was something she had known was going to be offered from the moment when she had decided, a month ago, that she wanted this baby, after all, already loved it with a fierce protectiveness that would allow no harm to come to it. Ever.

But did that include avoiding the emotional trauma that a legal battle with Adam, over his own rights where his child was concerned, would incur…? Did it include standing united with Adam in an effort not to alienate the baby's grandfather from the man who had been his best friend for the last twenty years? Did it include marrying Adam to avoid all that?

She still didn't have the answer to that!

She spoke again, sounding resigned. ‘You don't want to marry me, Adam—'

‘I don't think what I want—or, indeed, what you want, either!—is of particular importance at this moment,' he shot back, releasing her abruptly to walk determinedly to the other end of the terrace.

Andie swallowed hard, his words having put a chill into her heart. ‘It isn't…?'

‘No,' he told her firmly, a nerve pulsing in the tightness of his jaw. ‘We have to think of the baby—'

‘And you think I haven't been?' she cut in angrily, a flush to her cheeks now. ‘How dare you?' she accused re
sentfully. ‘Why else would I have given up a job that I love doing, if it weren't because it's safer for the baby if I don't work? Why else would I—?'

‘Andie, I wasn't implying—'

‘Yes, you were, damn you!' There was something to be said for the emotion of anger. It precluded any others—such as love!—from surfacing. ‘And you have no right! You—'

‘Andie, I didn't come here to fight with you,' Adam interrupted, eyes glittering silver as he glared across the terrace at her.

‘Then why did you come?' Her head went back challengingly.

He gave a heavy sigh. ‘I've already told you—I came here to ask you, to plead with you if necessary,' he added hardly, ‘to consider marrying me.'

How it pained him to have to say it! What sort of marriage would it be, could it be, when it wasn't what either of them really wanted?

Her chin rose proudly. ‘I've considered it, Adam, and—'

‘Consider it again!' he advised harshly. ‘And this time think of it from another angle but your own!' he continued scathingly, hands clenched at his sides now—as if he might strangle her if he didn't…?

She had been considering
every
angle since the moment she had decided, a month ago, that she loved this baby above everything else; her child's wants and needs were of paramount importance to her now. But she wasn't sure that having parents who didn't love each other was the best thing for her baby…

She gave Adam a narrow-eyed look. ‘How can you be absolutely positive this baby is yours, Adam?'

His mouth twisted mockingly. ‘I'm sure, Andie.'

‘I don't see how—'

‘I doubt that experience with me was enough to send you out on a life of bed-hopping conquests,' Adam declared. ‘And if it wasn't—! You were a virgin that night, Andie,' he stated flatly. ‘Or did you think my life was so debauched I wouldn't recognise a virgin if I met one?'

Andie swallowed hard, turning away, heated colour in her cheeks now. He hadn't said anything at the time—she had thought—

She had spent the last few years of her life living and working amongst a casual permissiveness that simply hadn't appealed to her. Maybe that was because she'd already been in love with Adam, and no other man would do for her; she simply didn't know. But he was right; she had been a virgin that night three months ago…

‘You're right.' She sighed defeatedly, not wanting to continue discussing the subject of her virginity—or lack of it now! ‘It is your child.'

‘I never doubted it,' he bit out forcefully.

‘What sort of marriage are you offering me, Adam?' she asked levelly, giving no indication that what he said in the next few minutes could be the deciding point for the rest of their lives.

He looked puzzled. ‘I don't understand…?'

‘In the circumstances, Adam, surely it's a perfectly straightforward question,' she replied, walking over to sit back down on the lounger. ‘Oh, don't worry, I'm not asking for you to pretend you're in love with me. Any more than I could pretend to be in love with you.' How could she pretend something that was already a fact?

His puzzlement deepened. ‘Then what are you asking for?' he returned.

Affection—if not love. Respect—surely she deserved that, at least? Fidelity—the one thing she wasn't sure Adam was capable of giving her!

She gave a shaky sigh at the thought of suffering years of women, like Elizabeth King, in the background of Adam's life. She couldn't bear that! But, at the same time, was it really feasible to expect the two of them to live out their lives in a loveless marriage? Oh, not that it would be true of her, but for Adam—!

She took a deep breath. ‘The thing is, Adam, I grew up in a large family, and because of that I—I've never believed in having only children.'

He blinked, obviously trying to assimilate her words—and failing. ‘You aren't expecting twins, are you?' he gasped.

‘Not that I'm aware of, no,' she assured him.

‘Then—' He broke off, frowning, his gaze searching on the paleness of her face. ‘I see,' he finally said slowly.

‘Do you?' She held her breath now as she waited for his answer.

‘I think so.' Adam nodded. ‘You know, Andie…' he strolled across the terrace to stand beside her ‘…a lot of what is said, and printed—' he grimaced ‘—concerning my private life, isn't necessarily all that it appears—'

‘If only half of it's true—!' Andie gave a snort of derisive laughter.

‘Oh, probably half of it's true,' Adam conceded, sitting down beside her on the lounger, his thigh only inches from the bareness of her own.

Andie was aware of him with every particle of her own body. She had lain naked with this man, made love with him, made a child with him—how could she not be aware of him? She knew she couldn't spend the rest of her life living in close confines with him without—without—

Even so, she flinched as Adam reached out to touch the creamy softness of her cheek, his hand dropping ineffectually down to his side.

He turned to stare grimly across at the tranquil sea. ‘It doesn't augur well for those future children you mentioned if you're going to do that every time I try to touch you,' he said bitterly.

Andie paused. He was right, it didn't, but— ‘The last time you touched me I got pregnant, remember?' she reminded him.

His mouth quirked. ‘Well, that isn't likely to happen again, now, is it?'

She stood up suddenly, moving jerkily away from him. The problem was, just that light touch of Adam's hand on her cheek was enough to make her burn with wanting him, her heart pounding so loudly in her chest she was sure he had to hear it!

Why couldn't she hate this man? It would make life so much simpler. But what had happened between them three months ago precluded her life ever being simple again!

Could she marry Adam, knowing that he didn't love her, but felt forced, because of the baby and his long relationship with all of her family, into offering her marriage?

In retrospect, what had happened between them that night three months ago, seemed so childish, the two of them facing angrily up to each other like a couple of disgruntled children, their lovemaking a result of that immature temper rather than desire.

If she hadn't become pregnant, would they eventually have fallen back into that easy friendship that had been so much a part of their lives for so long?

Somehow she doubted it. But, in reality, it was a question, Andie knew she would never have an answer to…

She drew in a ragged breath, knowing that Adam was still waiting for her answer.

Yes. Or no.

Such simple little words, but one of them would shape the rest of her life. And her baby's…

 

She was going to say no, he knew it!

Adam had sat watching Andie as the conflicting emotions had flickered across her face: the anger, the sadness, and lastly the resolve. He didn't need a crystal ball to know she was going to turn down his marriage proposal…!

Whatever did he do then?

He would have no choice but to publicly announce the baby was his, not if he wanted to be the baby's father. And he was surprised himself at how much he wanted that. He had never given any thought to having children—you had to be with the woman you loved to think about things like that!—but the mere thought of his child growing inside Andie filled him with pride, and a strange need to be the sort of man the baby deserved as a father.

But if Andie refused to marry him, Adam knew that all hell was going to break loose when he tried to claim his rights as the baby's father. Not that he was bothered about that on his own account; he had struggled through much worse—and lived never to tell the tale, to anyone! No, it was Andie he was worried about. As her husband he could protect her from any, and all, adversity concerning her pregnancy. He didn't think she would allow him to do that if the two of them weren't married. In fact, he would probably become a part of that adversity!

He didn't want ever to hurt Andie—again, that was!—it was just that, circumstances being what they were, he—

‘I really have given your suggestion careful consideration, Adam—' the huskiness of her voice interrupted his racing thoughts ‘—and I've come to the conclusion that—'

‘Don't be too hasty, Andie,' he interrupted forcefully.

‘As a single mother—even one from an obviously wealthy
family,' he added, knowing Rome would never see any of his daughters in financial trouble of any kind, ‘there will still be the problems of coping with the child more or less on your own, trying to fit work and motherhood together, of—'

‘I've decided to accept your offer, Adam,' Andie put in gently.

‘Trying to be everything to the baby and ending up ragged and—' Adam broke off as he realised exactly what Andie had just said.

She was saying yes!

He stared at her, knowing his mouth must literally be hanging open in his shocked surprise. But he couldn't help that; he
was
surprised.

He had expected to have much more of a fight on his hands, knew exactly how independent and strong-willed Andie could be. He had even booked a one-way ticket over here because he hadn't been sure how long it would take him to persuade Andie that marriage to him was by far the best solution. For all of them…