One-Night Pregnancy by Lindsay Armstrong Page B

raspberry top.
    ‘I hope I haven’t made you late for work, but I’m flat out at the moment.’
    ‘No. I’m on holiday for a few weeks, and—’ But she didn’t have time to finish what she’d been going to say because his PA knocked on the door and called through that he was so sorry but Adam’s next appointment had arrived.
    Adam Beaumont swore softly beneath his breath, but Bridget smiled at him briefly and said, ‘Adios!’
    And she left, gathering her purse on the way.
    Fortunately, because she’d forgotten about it, she was at home when her friend Sandra from Numinbah arrived, with her baby, to spend the afternoon with her.
    The baby girl, Daisy, was three months old now, and she slept through most of the afternoon. It was just before Sandra was due to leave that Daisy, in her cot, opened her eyes, saw Bridget looking down at her and smiled a blinding toothless smile as she wriggled joyfully.
    Bridget couldn’t resist it. She asked permission to pick Daisy up, and as the tiny girl snuggled into her shoulder a primitive age-old instinct overcame Bridget. For the first time the baby growing within her became a precious reality rather than a burden, and her options narrowed.
    She thought of herself and Adam. Not the new, hard Adam, but the man she’d trusted and loved to be with. Joined for ever in a little person who was the result of their rapture and passion. Be it a boy or girl, there would be some of its father, some of the features she’d loved linked with hers. And, even more than that, it was a part of her , and as such it could only be a joy to her.
    After Sandra had left, Bridget took a long, hard look at her whole life. It occurred to her that all the things she did well enough, if not brilliantly, while they might not fit her out to be a cutting-edge journalist might be useful as a mother. And she suddenly discerned that she’d lacked a goal in life—could fate have provided her with one in the form of this baby?
    It was a discovery that caused the path that stretched before her to look a lot less rocky.

CHAPTER FIVE
    A LESS rocky path didn’t have any effect on morning sickness, however, as she discovered the next morning.
    To complicate matters, she’d just started to feel nauseous, but thought she was holding it at bay, when her doorbell rang.
    She hesitated, then went to answer it. It was Adam.
    They simply stared at each other for a long moment, then he said, ‘May I come in? I want to apologise. I’ve spoken to Julia Nixon and she’s confirmed everything you told me.’
    Bridget put a hand to her mouth, then took it away. ‘I’m sorry, it’s not very convenient.’ She took a step backwards, then whirled on her heel and raced for the bathroom.
    When she came back, she was pale but composed—and he was standing in the middle of her lounge with his hands shoved into his jeans pockets and a frown in his eyes.
    He took a long moment to scan her from head to toe. She wore a brown summery dress patterned with white dots, in a clinging crêpe material. It had a scooped neckline and came to just above her knees. With it shewore brown backless moccasins with white laces. Her face had obviously just been washed; it was free of any make-up and there were damp strands in her fringe. She looked younger than her years, though, and somehow vulnerable.
    ‘Bridget,’ he said abruptly, ‘is this morning sickness?’
    She looked away as she wondered how to deny it.
    ‘Two mornings in a row?’ he said, as he scanned her pale face.
    Her shoulders slumped. ‘Yes. But I wasn’t sure how to tell you, or even if I would.’
    ‘You weren’t going to tell me?’
    She winced at the way he said it, then soldiered on. ‘There didn’t seem to be much point, since there’s no future for us. Besides which I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you don’t believe it’s yours. But I absolutely refuse to go through any DNA testing.’ Her eyes suddenly glinted green fire at him. ‘I know whose baby this