The fatherhood trap.
Except he would never have regarded it as a trap. And she hadn't asked him.
Maybe because she didn't want to be trapped with another man. Which didn't say much for any positive feelings toward him. Yet…how could she have responded so positively when they'd made love if she didn't have good feelings with him, snuggling up so contentedly afterward?
The receptionist called their names.
Ric swiftly set the magazine aside and rose to his feet, instinctively moving to help Lara up, though she wasn't cumbersome with her pregnancy. In fact, the clothes she wore—a navy blue skirt and jacket, teamed with a smart overblouse in navy, white and red—disguised the fact she was pregnant at all, and she stood with the innate fluid grace he'd always associated with her.
Nevertheless, his hand stayed glued to her elbow as they were ushered into their meeting with the obstetrician, some latent sense of possession grabbing hold of his emotions, wanting her to be his Lara, the mother of his child. It was impossible to shake off the feeling that they did share a bond and somehow the child was a natural outcome of it.
Two chairs had been placed for them in front of the doctor's desk. The enforced separation helped Ric to concentrate on the purpose that had brought them here. The paternity testing was explained. Ric chose to give a small blood sample. Lara chose to do so, as well, but she also had to undergo a procedure called amniocentesis, where a needle was inserted through the abdominal wall to extract some amniotic fluid. This was necessary to perform cytogenic analysis. The tests on the samples usually took five days and the results would be express-couriered to both parties.
Once Ric's blood sample was taken, he waited outside for Lara's procedure to be completed, hoping she wouldn't be upset by it. A needle was just a needle. Nothing to worry about. But she might be super-sensitive about anything to do with the baby, having had a stillborn child. He didn't like the idea of her worrying about this one. Which led him into having a few worries himself.
Was she taking appropriate care?
Shouldn't she be bigger at four and a half months? Was she eating properly?
What had her doctor said about the pregnancy?
Ric was champing at the bit by the time Lara emerged from the obstetrician's office. 'I'll drive you home,' he said, taking hold of her arm again and steering her through the waiting room.
'The fee…' She made a fluttery gesture toward the receptionist. 'I've paid it.' He gave her a searching look. 'Are you okay?'
She flushed, lashes sweeping down. 'Yes, of course. It was…nothing.
Just a pinprick.'
'Some people get shaky about having needles. I'll see you safely home, Lara.'
She didn't protest.
He waited until he had her tucked into the passenger seat of the Ferrari and the car was moving before mentally pausing to take stock of where he wanted to go with Lara from here. He hated taking her back to the house that Chappel had bought, but it was her choice to stay there until it was sold. He found it bitterly ironic that the last time she'd been in this car, she'd trusted him to get her away from that bastard. Here he was, returning her to the gilded prison, possibly pregnant with her husband's child.
Though it might be his. He wanted it to be his.
No denying that, whatever grief it might bring him.
'I presume you've had your pregnancy checked,' he tossed at her, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the road ahead.
'Yes. I've had an ultra-scan. There's no…no abnormality.' 'Everything's going well then?'
'The doctor says so.' 'Do you know the sex?'
'I didn't want to know. If something goes wrong…' She took a deep breath. 'Last time I knew it was a daughter. I'd even named her. She was already a person to me…'
Ric's hands tightened around the driving wheel. The sadness in her voice…the need to protect herself from more grief…she'd been through so much…it struck him he should have been taking far more into consideration than he had in judging and condemning her for pushing him away. A wounded animal holes up by itself, warding off friend and enemy alike, only seeing a world filled with pain.
'You have nothing to fear from me, Lara,' he said quietly. 'If the child is mine, I'll take a supportive role. I don't want there to be any conflict between us.'
She didn't reply.
A sideways glance caught her hands fretting at each other in her lap, revealing the depth of her inner tension.
'Lara?' he pressed, needing to satisfy himself that she was not regarding him as a tyrant who would continually make demands on her. He wasn't like that. He'd be reasonable, try to fit in with what she wanted as best he could. Providing she was reasonable, too. No way was he going to be shut out of his son's or his daughter's life. He'd had a rotten father himself. But he'd be a good one, being there when he should, giving love instead of abuse.
A heavy sigh signalled a dark weight on Lara's heart. 'If the child is yours,' she repeated in a flat, defeated tone. 'Yes, I expect you will take a supportive role, Ric, given that you're the father. And no, I'm not afraid of you.'
He could hear the line of logic left unsaid—no support at all if the child was Gary's. She envisaged him walking out of her life as abruptly as he had walked into it. No future together.
Her previous actions had implied that was what she had decided upon— for him to be right out of her life. But he sensed now it wasn't what she wanted. Or was he fooling himself?
It wasn't her fault if she was carrying Gary's child. No doubt it had been forced upon her. No choice. Though she had chosen him to wipe her husband out of her mind. How much did that mean?
'You won't mind my having visiting rights?' he asked warily. Another sigh. 'No, I won't mind. I know you'd make a good father, Ric.'
But was he big enough to be a father to another man's child? A man he despised?
Either way, the baby was Lara's. She wanted it, no matter what. The critical question was…did she want him, putting aside everything else? Her previous rejection of him suggested that she didn't. Or that the whole situation was just too difficult for her to sort out. Easier to turn her back on it and go her own way. Which also meant he wasn't important enough for her to fight for. Or maybe she'd had a gutful of fighting in her marriage and couldn't summon the will to make another stand.
Ric found himself driving up to the front door of the Vaucluse mansion with this torment still raging in his mind. Lara bent forward, picked up her handbag from the floor near her feet, opened it, found the keys that would lock him out of her life again. Every muscle in his body tensed, aggression pumping through him. He braked more abruptly than he should have, the tyres of the Ferrari spraying gravel as they ground to a halt.
She waited for him to let her out of the car. He did it reluctantly, watching the silky fall of her hair flow forward as she ducked her head, stepping out. His gut was in knot. The urge to fight for this woman's love was like a madness in his brain, yet a vestige of sanity insisted it couldn't be forced. Love was either there or it wasn't.
He closed the car door and accompanied her up the steps to the colonnaded porch. She said nothing. He said nothing. They stopped in front of the door. She looked down at the keys in her hand.
'Thank you for bringing me home, Ric,' she murmured. 'I guess…I guess this is goodbye…unless the DNA test proves you're the father.'
Her hesitant tone seemed to carry a sad yearning for a different outcome. It was encouragement enough for Ric to seize the moment and ask, 'Do you want it to be goodbye, Lara?'
Slowly, very slowly, her eyelashes lifted and the poignant feeling reflected in the beautiful blue eyes pierced his heart. 'I couldn't bear it…if you didn't care for my baby, Ric.'
There it was.
She shook her head, tore her gaze from his, inserted the key in the lock, opened the door, stepped inside and shut him out.
He'd hung everything on its being his child. And it wasn't enough.