His pregnant mistress Read online

  He meant it.

  At that moment he would have promised her any­thing, given her the world if only she would let him.

  If only Richard hadn't come back...

  'Ethan.' Mia's pale whisper pulled Ethan sharply back to reality. 'You can't compare my body now to how it was then...' Mia didn't want to remember, didn't want to cloud the issue with the ghosts of their past, didn't want what they had once shared in any way to impinge on the decisions she ma de today, and it wasn't fair of Ethan to bring the past up now, not when there was a doctor waiting outside, not when there was abso­lutely no chance of seeing the conversation through to its entirety. 'I was eighteen, Ethan.'

  She could feel the heat of his hand searing through the sheet, feel the caress of his fingers on the back of her calf, the nub of his thumb pressing in to her flesh, and she knew he felt it too, knew he was remember­ing all that had taken place between them. The prim­itive, animal arousal in the air was so thick she could almost taste it, but as her words hit their mark Ethan moved his hand away.

  'I wasn't.' His voice was full of scorn. 'I wasn't,' he repeated as if saying it again might somehow alter the truth. 'I was referring to the fact that I've seen you arriving and leaving at the hospice these past few weeks, no thing else. Nothing else!' he said again, only more loudly this time.

  His hand that had just touched her clenched so tightly the knuckles were white, eyes furious with his blatant denial, and Mia lay reeling, appalled that even the memory of that night could trigger such a fierce response in him.

  'You owe it to the baby to see this doctor,' he said in a more reasonable voice. 'You need proper care and clearly whatever you've been getting hasn't been sufficient.'

  She gave a tiny, reluctant nod. 'Okay, I'll see him, but I'm warning you, Ethan, this is my pregnancy and my baby. I won't have you interfering. I mean it,' she added firmly, but Ethan just stood up.

  'Let's see what the doctor says, shall we?'

  'Lose the we, Ethan.' She watched his hand pause on the handle, saw the dart of frustration in his eyes as he turned around. 'I'll see the doctor and then I’llmake up my own mind.'

  He gave a small nod, made to go then changed his mind, determined to have the last word. 'At the very least keep an open mind Mia. Listen to what he has to say before you form an opinion.'

  'That's a bit rich coming from you, Ethan.' The door was almost closed behind him, but she shot out her response, equally determined to say her piece.

  Yet despite her secret intention to remain suitably unimpressed with the undoubtedly expensive private obstetrician Ethan had infuriatingly chose n for her, Mia saw in an instant why Garth Wilson was so suc­cessful with his 'ladies'.

  In contrast to her rather brief visits with any give n doctor at the local hospital, go­ing over and over her antenatal history to an unfa­miliar face, Garth instantly put her at ease, taking his time to listen to her before finally examining her, and his care didn't end there. He sat on the edge of the bed and carefully went through her birthing options, happily open to her suggestions for as natural a birth as possible.

  'I'd have liked to have had the baby at home, of course...' Mia swallowed '...but...'

  'Given your raised blood pressure it's probably not the safest way to go.' Garth smiled warmly. 'The birthing centre is an excellent option; the midwives are very in tune...' His eyes frowned in concern.

  'Is there something else, Mia? Something you want to tell me?'

  'There is, but...' Her voice trailed off, hesitancy in every word that followed, unsure whether to go on, yet knowing she had to. 'It mustn't go any further; I mean, if I tell you, Ethan mustn't—'

  Garth put up a very well-manicured hand, which seemed out of place given his casual attire. 'It stays here.' He tapped his rather scruffy head. 'So what's troubling you, Mia?'

  'Nothing.' She shook her head but it changed mid­way. 'Everything,' she admitted, biting back a batch of tears. 'Even though the idea of a home birth ap­peals, I'd always planned to have the baby at hospital because we were going to use the cord blood...'

  'Use the cord blood?' Garth asked perceptively. 'As opposed to donating it?'

  Mia gave a tiny, trembling nod. 'The baby's father had cancer.'

  'Ethan isn't the father?' She watched his eyebrow furrow, but Garth quickly righted himself. 'Hey, sorry, he just came across as so concerned...'

  'This is his brother's baby, that's why Ethan is so concerned. Richard died last week; we cremated him yesterday.'

  'Mia, I'm sorry.' Garth looked truly appalled at her revelation, his eyes blinking in rapid confusion at her apparent lack of reaction. 'You must still be in shock...'

  'It was expected,' Mia responded.

  'But even so.' Garth eyed her in concern. 'To lose your partner at this precious time...'

  'Please!' A trembling hand halted him as Mia struggled to gain control. Garth's misdirected sym­pathy was the last thing she needed right now. No one on God's earth understood her relationship with Richard and that was how they'd wanted it, t hat was how they had promised each other it would be what­ever the personal cost. All she wanted from Garth was his medical skills, nothing else.

  Nothing else.

  'I still want the blood to be used, though; I'd like it to be donated to the cord bank. Richard and I spoke about it; we both decided...' Her voice trailed off, cold facts all she was prepared to reveal. 'Will you be able to arrange that for me, Garth?'

  'Of course.' Garth nodded, patting her arm, still clearly confused at her apparent cool demeanor.

  'I can take care of all that for you. There will just be a mountain of paperwork for you to sign and a few blood tests nearer the end of your pregnancy and again a few months after...'

  'And Ethan won't know?'

  'Not if you don't want him to.' The frown re­mained on his brow. 'Is there anything else you want to tell me, Mia? Anything at all?'

  'Nothing.' Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, the weight of her secret so heavy on her tired shoulders but she swallowed them down, her chin jutting defi­antly as she stared directly back at him, the secret inside not just hers to re veal. 'Nothing at all.'

  It was a full hour before Garth left the bedroom with a timely reminder undoubtedly ringing in his ears that Ethan might be footing the bill, but he had no right to her personal information.

  'Well?' As she slipped out of bed and the huge oversized shirt he had loaned her and padded to the en suite Ethan caught her unawares, marching in the bedroom unannounced as Mia gave a furious yelp and dived into the en suite to grab a towel, returning a second or two later, cheeks flaming but thankfully almost decent. From Ethan's impatient stance he clearly thought he was entitled to some answers.

  He was dressed in a suit, his hair neatly combed now, a tie hanging around his neck waiting to be knotted, shoes on his feet with the laces still un done, and he looked every bit as sexy as the semi-naked man she had opened her eyes to an hour ago. 'What did he say?'

  'Who?'

  She saw his eyes narrow, heard his sharp intake of breath. 'Don't be facetious, Mia. I've got a meeting in half an hour and I want to know what's going on before I leave. We'll talk properly when I get back; so quickly, please what did the doctor say?'

  'I thought patient confidentiality extended beyond the signature on the cheque.'

  The air hissed out of his lungs, his face contorting as he attempted to stay calm, knowing if he inflamed her further then he'd find out nothing. 'Mia—' his voice was very soft, very low, but she could feel the tension behind every last word '—could you please tell me what the doctor said?'

  'That my blood pressure's still up.'

  ‘And?'

  ‘That I need to slow down.'

  ‘And?'

  'That apart from that everything's fine.'

  'Mia, he was in here for the best part of an hour; surely he said more than that.'

  'Look, Ethan.' Exasperated, she ran a hand through her chaotic hair, embarrassed by his scrutiny, d
esper­ate to put some space between them, for him to go to his blessed meeting and leave her alone with her jum­bled thoughts, to try and make sense of the chaotic situation she had found herself in. Where one move, one thoughtless slip, and the whole pack of lies she and Richard had so carefully built would come tum­bling down.

  'It's been seven years since I've seen you. You can't expect me to just open up to you.'

  'Why not?' He truly sounded as if he didn't know and Mia shook her h ead in disbelief, stunned at the arrogance of him.

  'After the way you treated me, you expect to swan in and demand information, demand personal details as if it were your God-given right. You have the gall to expect me just to bare all and ' 'quickly please", just because you've got a business meeting.'

  'After the way I treated you?' Ignoring her last few words, he crossed the room, blocking the entrance to the en suite, his hug c shoulders blocking the door­frame. 'You're the one with gall, Mia! The absolute audacity to stand there and twist things, to make it sound as if you were the wronged party all those years ago! So tell me, Mia, just what is it I'm supposed to have done? Where exactly do you feel you were treated badly?' His voice was rising with each and every word, the confrontation she'd been simulta­neously needing and dreading clearly a breath away, and Mia wasn't sure she was ready, wanted at least to be dressed before the ugly truth was exposed.

  'You slept with me, Ethan. Those weeks we shared meant everything to me. You said that you loved me, adored me, wanted to be with me, and all the time you were using me. All the time you were planning to sack my father, using me to find out where Richard was, and I fell for it.'

  'I was the one who fell,' Ethan roared. 'I was the idiot who fell for every lie you fed me.'

  'I never lied,' Mia begged, but Ethan was shaking his head, black eyes glittering with seven years of unvented fury. 'You were the liar. Richard came back and you left. Not only that but you sacked my father two days later. You squeezed your pound of flesh from me and left me with nothing.’

  'Nothing!' His voice was like the crack of the whip. 'Nothing?'

  'I'd like a shower, please, Ethan.' Her voice was supremely calm. 'And if you won't let me have one, then I'll damn well get dressed and take a taxi back to my own home this very minute.'

  Amazingly he moved, just enough to let her past, but his angry eyes we re still on her, his body still in the doorway, and suddenly Mia had had enough.

  'I'm going to have a shower now, Ethan.'

  'You're damn well not,' Ethan barked. 'If you think you can toss a little gem like that at me and then walk off, then you've got another think coming. I left you with a damn sight more than you left me. I treated you so much better than you deserved, Mia Stewart. If it wasn't for me you'd be on the streets now, not in some fancy gallery calling yourself an artist. And the pay­out the Carvelles gave your father was so, so much more than he deserved.'

  Mia swung around, her livid eyes meeting his, her mouth set in a taut pale line, her face menacingly close as she hissed the words out. 'Leave my father out of this, Ethan, or I swear I'll...'

  'What? Come on, Mia, what can you possibly say that might change things when we both know that I've treated you a damn sight better than you deserve? I could have thrown you and your family to the lions, but instead I persuaded my father against calling the police, practically begged him to pay out your father rather than sack him!'

  'Sack him!' It was Mia's voice rising now, Mia staring with incredulous disbelief at this hateful man. 'For what? Because his daughter was screwing the boss?' Even though they came from her own lips the coarseness of her words shocked Mia, but this was what he'd forced her into, this was the result of Ethan reducing what had been beautiful to nothing more than a sordid sexual encounter.

  'Screwing the Carvelle family, more like!' Ethan's face was as white as the tiles that lined the bathroom, his eyes dark, angry pools that glittered menacingly. 'Screwing, not just one, but two of the brothers...'

  'What?'

  'You were sleeping with us both.' She shook her head, opened her mouth to speak, but Ethan got there first. 'Don't play the innocent, Mia. Yes, I went back to my parents' home when I heard Richard was back, but I wasn't intending to leave you, I was going to tell them...' His fists bunched by his sides, his temples pounded with the roar of his own pulse as he remembered striding up the drive. Ready to face whatever Richard had been up to head-on, to soothe troubled waters with good news.

  He had loved her.

  'You were going to tell them what?' Mia dragged him back to the present and he stared at her coolly, shaking his head, unable to believe he had really been so naive.

  'Hedging your bets, were you?' He gave a low, mirthless laugh as her f ace twisted in confusion. 'You couldn't lure Richard back into bed so figured you'd settle for his older brother?'

  'I've no idea what you're talking about.'

  'I heard it from his own mouth, Mia! I heard Richard telling my parents that he was mixed up with you, that that was why he'd run away, that was why he'd left town as if the devil himself was chasing him. He was terrified you were pregnant, terrified you'd trapped him...'

  'You're disgusting.'

  'No, you're disgusting,' Ethan roared. 'You used me, slept with me with the sole intention of getting pregnant because you knew that your father was about to go to prison. Both you and your father were screw­ing us for every last cent. Your father was a con artist, Mia; you know it a s well as I do. Your father was spending the firm's money more quickly than he could cover it and we trusted him, Mia, trusted him enough not to look over his shoulder, but at what price? He cost the Carvelles hundreds o f thousands of dollars...'

  'He saved the precious Carvelles! He saved you all from finding out a truth you didn't want to hear.' Her words were out before her thought process had even finished, the lid of Pandora's box springing open and even if she could close it, even if she could take it back, Mia wasn't sure she wanted to.

  To hear her father's name sullied, to hear Ethan Carvelle be­smirching the wonderful, kind man her father had been was almost more than Mia could take. Fury, anger, hurt lacing each and every word, her face twist­ing in rage as she let Ethan have it, she felt a curious surge of triumph as her words hit their target, rocking the Carvelle pedestal for just a tiny moment. 'He saved you from finding out the truth!'

  'Go on.' His voice was even his face almost im­passive, only the pulse pounding in his cheek told her that Ethan was anything other than calm.

  'Don't start something you can't finish, Mia.'

  'Oh. I can finish it. Ethan.' Pulling the towel tighter around her breasts, she stared at him defiantly. 'I can finish it right here and now, so long as you're sure you want to hear it.'

  A tiny nod was the only response she got, and the voice that had been laced with venom only seconds earlier was curiously flat now her lips pale as she ran a dry tongue over them. 'My father wasn't spending the firm's money, as your family were so quick to ace use.'

  'I've still got the financial records,' Ethan retorted. 'Your father was siphoning money. He was good; I have to hand it to him. He covered his tracks re­markably well, but in the end I spotted it.' He watched as she shook her head, a surprising glint of pity in his eyes as still she refused to accept the f acts.

  'You've got it all wrong,' she insisted.

  'If you want I can show the records to you; your father—'

  'I don't need to see the records...' Mia jumped in and she watched his mouth move, watched it open and snap closed took a deep breath before she carried on. 'My father wasn't stealing from the company—'

  'Oh, for heaven's sake, Mia,' Ethan broke in, 'this is getting us nowhere. You know the truth, I know the truth, so why keep up the pretence? Why not just admit that you were using me? Why not just admit that your fat her—'

  'It was Richard.'

  'Richard?' His face twisted in rage as she stared back at him, appalled at what she'd said, but relieved as well. 'Is that how low you're p
repared to stoop, Mia? Blame a dead man—'

  'Richard's not the only dead man.' Mia interrupted. 'My father went to his grave knowing you all be­lieved he'd stolen from you. My father carried the secret for five long years and finally it killed him. So don't you dare stand there and judge him; don't you dare stand there and call him a con artist. Unlike your family, my father actually cared. He knew that if the great Hugh Carvelle found out his son was in finan­cial difficulty the hell he'd put Richard through. The only crime my father committed was covering Richard's tracks.'

  Certainty, his breathing short and ragged as he surveyed the past with the benefit of hindsight. 'Richard had money problems?'

  Mia gave a hesitant nod, wondering just how much to reveal. 'Richard had huge money problems at that time, Ethan. Huge,' she added, biting her lip as she recalled the awful time, the anguish in her friend's eyes when he had broken down and confessed the sordid ugly truth, the same raw anguish that was in Ethan's eyes now, and she couldn't do it— couldn't pull back the skin on another layer of pain, couldn't bring herself to tell Ethan just how bad it had really been, tell him about the so-called friends who had been bribing Richard, the sordid videos that probably didn't exist, but whose mere hint at their existence had been enough t o force Richard into serious debt.