Page 45 of Conail

Jesus! The woman was cantankerous.

"No lifting of farm implements."

She simply turned her head to glare at him. She had had to tamp down the acute awareness of him. For the past few days, her nights had been plagued with dreams about him. That would not do. She would be a fool to even think about going there. He only thought of her as an employee who happened to be carrying his seed.

She had also started to feel the baby and it was a baby as far as she was concerned. He or she was moving, tiny movements, whisper soft, but she felt it against her palms. She had also started talking to him. Which should not be. She could not become attached. But how could she not? He was inside her body, growing and making limbs and other features.She wondered who he was going to look like and had started exploring names.

She could not say it to anyone, not even her mother, because the baby was not hers and that was depressing her. She wished she could slow down the months, but the days seemed to be flying at the speed of light. She was almost five months gone already. Closing her eyes, she pretended to sleep and tried to block the acute awareness of him from her mind.

Conail eased the pressure off his fingers as he slowly relaxed them on the steering wheel. He was driving slowly because of the slickly wet road. The weather had dumped five inches of snow which had quickly turned to ice. He was aware of her. Her faint perfume, the fact that she was now starting to show. That had given him a jolt when he arrived at the hospital to see her dressed in black leggings and an oversized sweater.

Her pregnancy was pronounced and that made it real.

He was no longer thinking about an abortion. He wanted the baby desperately. But more than that, he wanted her. He could not be in the same space with her, without wanting to touch.Stealing a glance at her, he let his eyes roam over her face and linger on her lips.

Dragging his eyes away, he concentrated on the road, fiercely. This was ridiculous. It was crazy. He would be all sorts of fool to get involved with her. He had been burned badly before, and it should teach him a lesson. Women could not be trusted. He didn't even know her.

It was best to leave well enough alone, he decided as he came to a stop inside the driveway of the farm. He took in the surroundings and realized to his surprise that it was the first time he had been here. He knew his mother visited often. It was a wide spread of land, with snow capping the trees and making the grounds glisten.

When she stirred, he pushed open the door and went around to open hers.

Taking her hand in his, he helped her out, his touch unconsciously gentle.

"Watch your step." His arm went around her waist and for a few seconds she was pressed against him. Stepping back, he took her hand in his, the touch impersonal.

"I can manage." She murmured huskily, damned if she would allow him to see how shaken she was by his touch. She just needed to get inside and away from him.

"Just--" his voice petered off when the front door was flung open and her mother came rushing towards them.

"Honey!" Leaving the two of them to be reunited, he went to get her small case from the back seat and went to put it on the porch.

"Thank you Conail." Maeve beamed at him as he came bounding back down the steps.

"Of course." His eyes went to Yasmine and lingered. "Er -- please see to it that she rests."

"I will." Maeve promised. "Would you like to come in for a cup of hot chocolate?"

"I'm sure he has to be on his way."

He looked at Yasmine and for a second, something flickered in his eyes. "I have a meeting. Thanks anyway."

"Any time."

With a slight smile for the mother, he gave the daughter another long look before striding towards the vehicle and getting in.

They watched as he backed out and the taillights disappeared.

"Now honey, that was very rude of you."

"He's overbearing."

"Still, the man insisted on picking you up from the hospital."

"Not out of the kindness of his heart." She climbed the steps, carefully avoiding the puddles. "It's good to be home."

"You must be hungry."

"Starving." She admitted with a laugh.

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