Their Newborn Gift Read online

  She stared, wide-eyed, trying not to savour the feel of his fingers on her face.

  ‘Be open to all the possibilities, Lea. Just think about it.’

  Her voice was no more than a whisper. ‘You want a family that much?’

  ‘As much as you did nearly six years ago.’

  She slipped her hand to her belly to protect the innocent life within. Her child. The planet’s gravity seemed to shift and caused a delirious weightlessness in her. If she said yes, she wouldn’t have to give up her baby after all. It was the perfect solution.

  And the absolute worst.

  ‘What about love?’ she whispered.

  He paled. ‘A lot of relationships start without love. And last a lifetime.’

  Her gut twisted. She’d already done that for the first half of her life, she wasn’t about to do it for the rest. And she wasn’t about to expose her daughter to that either.

  ‘It’s for the children,’ he urged, as though that would somehow make it better.

  Unshed tears clogged her throat. She was the price Reilly was prepared to pay to have a family. A necessary evil. He might not completely loathe her any more—late-night kisses had a way of sorting that—but he very clearly did not love her. How could he and still want to take her child? She had a contract with his signature on it that spelled their arrangement out very clearly, regardless of what fanciful thoughts she had in the tiny hours of the night.

  This was about Molly. This was about the unborn child she carried.

  This was about Martin heirs.

  And she had committed to doing whatever it took to save her child. Lately that sentiment had broadened out to include her unborn one as well. Time was running out and the miracle she was hoping for just hadn’t eventuated.

  She swiped at the tears on her face. ‘Is this a new condition of the contract?’

  ‘Lea, no.’ Brown eyes blazed. ‘It’s not a condition. It’s a…’

  Don’t say ‘proposal,’ please…She might just break.

  ‘It’s an offer. An offer you are free to decline. But think about the children.’

  As he so clearly was.

  All of this was about the children.

  Chapter Eleven

  HE WAS willing to play dirty if he had to.

  Reilly cursed inwardly as he ground the gears of his beloved Land Rover, moving back up to speed after slowing for a couple of stray cattle on the road to the homestead. Molly happily peered out the window next to him.

  This morning’s piece of brilliance had been spontaneous, opportunistic, but he’d had time to plan since then. Almost half of Christmas day. He hadn’t handled it well; Lea’s underwhelmed reaction told him that. He had no experience at asking a woman to spend her life with him. It really wasn’t the sort of thing you could train for.

  She’d been predictably pessimistic, immediately naming the biggest hurdle to their success: the absence of love between them.

  Having it pointed out so practically was a kick in the ribs, but he hadn’t expected anything less. She was with him for legal and practical reasons. For his genes. Lasting romances just didn’t start that way.

  They didn’t start with two lots of blackmail, either.

  But a friendship could, and friendship could take them right through until their grey years. He’d seen it happen out here. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something. She wasn’t entirely immune to him, either. Her body responded to his now every bit as much as it had back then. It could be enough. There were much worse things than being friends with a beautiful, intelligent woman, the mother of your children.

  Like being alone.

  It was not why he did it but, sitting on the roof of his feed-shed, he’d suddenly seen the foolishness of the contract he’d asked her to sign. The inevitable impossibility of a woman like Lea being able to give up her baby. She didn’t want a conventional relationship—she’d said so—so why not an unconventional and extremely practical one?

  Surely that would have to resonate with the queen of unconventionality?

  But just in case it didn’t, his campaign of persuasion would start today.

  ‘Mum!’ Molly sat up straighter in the passenger seat and looked towards the house as he pulled up in front of the house. Lea burst out of the front door and hurried down the steps towards them. Molly hopped happily out of the passenger side and met her mother halfway. Lea swung her up into her arms, pressed her close then turned for the house.

  ‘Where have you been, Molly? I was so worried.’

  Reilly took a deep breath. ‘You were napping so soundly and Molly wasn’t tired. We went for a drive.’ He scooted up the steps behind her.

  Lea pushed back into the house, her body stiff. ‘Without telling me?’

  ‘We left you a note.’

  She spun around. ‘What? Where?’

  He led her into the kitchen and leaned casually on the stainless-steel fridge, keeping his hands hidden. His note was stuck with a magnet in the middle of the door.

  Colour flamed up her face. ‘Who leaves a note on the fridge door?’

  He laughed. ‘Everyone, Lea. You’ve been alone too long.’

  She blushed further. ‘I thought…Never mind. I’m just glad you’re back.’

  Molly squirmed to be out of her mother’s death-grip. ‘Happy Christmas, Mum.’

  She looked at her daughter patiently, putting her down. ‘We’ve done Christmas, Molly.’

  Reilly slowly brought his hands around. ‘Uh, not quite. Molly wanted to get you a present. She asked me to take her.’

  Molly beamed as he handed Lea the fistful of wildflowers they’d selected. ‘Molly had very specific flowers in mind and it took us a bit longer to find just the right ones.’

  As her eyes fell on the chaotic cluster of freshly picked wildflowers, they completely changed. Bled pale. His stomach clenched.

  ‘Native iris,’ she whispered.

  ‘Yes, amongst others. Do you like them?’

  She nodded and swallowed hard. ‘They’re my favourite.’

  ‘They were my grandma’s favourite,’ Molly proudly added from the floor.

  Lea looked at her hard. ‘How do you know that?’

  Molly looked uncertain suddenly in the face of her mother’s intensity. Reilly dropped to his haunches in a show of silent support.

  She edged closer to him, her voice small. ‘You told Aunt Sapphie that day.’

  Lea must have seen her daughter’s growing discomfort; she slid a hand out onto her shoulder and gentled her speech. ‘What day, honey?’

  Big brown eyes nearly broke Reilly’s heart as Molly added, ‘The day you cried.’

  The only sound in the kitchen was the clock ticking. Reilly desperately wanted to wrap his arms around Lea. She looked like she was about to shatter. Her lashes blinked furiously.

  Instead, he did the only thing he could. ‘What a great Christmas this has been, huh?’ He pulled Molly close to his side. ‘A great cubby-house, beautiful flowers. And I got to spend some time with my special girl.’

  Molly looked bereft. ‘I didn’t get you a present.’

  Reilly chuckled, falling even harder for his wonderful little girl with a heart as big as the Dawson Ranges. ‘You know what gift I’d really like?’ Molly shook her head. ‘A kiss. Right here.’ He pointed at his cheek.

  Molly hit him with a double-dimple, super-shy smile and rolled her eyes. Reilly wondered at what age ‘boy germs’ kicked in. Then she flung her arms around his neck and gave him a huge smacker right on the spot he’d identified. It eclipsed the one in the stables tenfold.

  Lea crossed to the pantry to get a vase to display the wild-flowers, visibly struggling to pull herself together.

  ‘What did you get Reilly, Mum?’

  Hazel eyes flew up to his.

  He should help her out. Really, it would be the right thing to do. Instead, he leaned back on the fridge and smiled.

  Molly reminded her theatrically. ‘He got you Pan and Goff.’


  Mental note to self: put Molly on the payroll. She was unquestionably worth as much as any man on his team. He smiled. ‘She’s got a point, Lea.’

  Lea glared at him. ‘I guess I’ll have to give that some thought later, huh?’

  ‘Christmas is nearly over. You should give him a kiss too. Right here.’ Molly touched the place on her face that Reilly had touched on his. She was deadly serious.

  Oh, her wages had just doubled.

  Lea’s lips thinned. ‘Maybe I could think of something else.’

  ‘I’d be happy to have whatever you gave Molly last year.’ His eyes locked on hers. He remembered their conversation seven months ago.

  I gave her me. I was hers to do whatever she wanted to…all day.

  Lea glared at him, unmoved. ‘I’ll take the kiss, thanks.’

  ‘That would be a great Christmas present,’ he said for Molly’s sake, and then for Lea’s. ‘A kiss from two beautiful women.’ Her eyes flamed magnificently. She took her time arranging the wildflowers, rinsing her hands and finally drying them. Molly watched patiently. Reilly was ready to snap.

  She turned back, walked up to him rigid-backed, and lifted her eyes to his. ‘Merry Christmas, Reilly,’ she whispered politely right before she stretched up onto her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek where Molly had.

  He couldn’t help it; he just wasn’t that strong a man. He turned his cheek just slightly—a breath—but enough that her soft mouth landed on the corner of his. She jerked back on a gasp but his hand at her back kept her close. He looked down into enormous, hazel irises framing flared pupils. He drowned in them. Every part of him was aware of her. The fertile hardness of her belly. Her scent. Her body heat. The softness of her hair.

  Not touching her was going to be a challenge.

  If she agreed to stay.

  Her hands rested softly on his hammering chest and pushed slowly away. It reminded him of their killer kiss in this very kitchen. He let her go and her eyes lifted back to his. Awareness filled them.

  Time stopped.

  His mouth dried.

  A huge challenge.

  ‘Max!’

  The cat streaked off as soon as it heard Molly’s delighted shriek. Mother and father both snapped their faces in the direction she’d taken off.

  ‘Molly, walk!’

  It only took a week of solid rain before the parched land was bloated and drunk; the rich Kimberley red earth couldn’t soak up another drop. Billabongs grew, rivers burst their banks, new ones formed in unlikely places and roads flooded. Minamurra was packed to its rafters with everything they needed to see them through the isolation of the wet season.

  Lea scooted down more comfortably on the outdoor seating on the veranda and sipped her tea as the rain drummed down. She loved this time of year because everyone went into lockdown, and keeping to yourself, your property, became the norm. No one judged you for it when everyone did it. It was the perfect time to be alone.

  Except this year she wasn’t.

  She was on a station with a dozen people. And Reilly.

  Who was still waiting for her answer. Who’d been nothing but patient since throwing her world into upheaval last week with his awkward proposition. She couldn’t think of it as a proposal, he hadn’t technically asked her to marry him, although she figured that was what would happen if she stayed. Or maybe not. Maybe they could pull off the kind of relationship Agnes Dawes had with her Frank—being together but living apart. Except in their case it would be living together, being apart.

  How sad.

  The baby sympathised, sending her the reassuring feather of its touch. Lea smiled. She was getting positively fanciful in the late stages of her pregnancy.

  She let her thoughts go back to her handsome host. It was amazing that he hadn’t demanded an answer before now. He would have been within his rights given their situation. Instead, he just watched her when he thought she wasn’t looking, assessing, contemplating. Brooding. It seemed they were always together, and not just because of the wet. A thousand little things kept bringing them back into each other’s presence. Every one seemed legitimate on the surface, but Lea tried to think back to pre-Christmas. Had they had this level of interaction then? Or was she just noticing it now? Now that she was so sensitised to it.

  ‘Lea?’

  Her head drifted towards his voice like a lily on a pond tide. ‘Good morning.’

  He slid his akubra off his head as he approached along the wide veranda. His hair was as damp as his skin from working outdoors. Or maybe fresh from the shower, it was impossible to tell. Certainly it was humid enough already this morning to be either.

  ‘All set for a new year?’

  God, was it New Year? She really was out of touch. ‘I wondered what all the activity was down at the barn.’ The barn was where the ringers all shared accommodation.

  He perched his length on the veranda balustrade. ‘They’re having a party tonight. To see in the New Year. You’re invited, if you’d like to come.’

  Lea’s heart raced. She never celebrated New Year, she never seemed to have much to look forward to each year. Sharing it with a group of strangers…

  Her indecision must have shown on her face.

  ‘If you’d rather not, then we can stay home. I’ll need to make a brief appearance, but then I can come back up here, spend it with you and Molly.’

  Like a family. Her chest squeezed. But Molly would be in bed by seven, and then they would be alone. On New Year’s Eve. With the whole ‘midnight’ thing ticking closer. She thought about that kiss in the kitchen.

  Her heart pumped harder. ‘No. I’d like to go. They’ve been really good with Molly and me. Very kind and understanding.’

  And there was safety in numbers.

  ‘Great. We’ll head down as soon as Molly’s asleep. They’re slow-cooking a sheep all afternoon.’

  His wry smile had her wondering if she’d just been played. Maybe she had; she’d just agreed to her first public outing with him. She nodded. Reilly’s eyes darted around the veranda. ‘Was there something else?’ she said.

  His chest expanded on a slow breath. ‘There’s a rodeo on Valentine’s Day. I’m signed on to run pick-up.’ He watched her carefully. ‘I wondered if you would go with me. Mrs Dawes could watch Molly.’

  It was very telling that the thought of being out with him in public bothered her a lot more than the thought of going to a rodeo. ‘A Valentine’s Day rodeo.’ She’d worked hard to perfect her one-eyebrow lift. ‘How romantic’

  ‘Welcome to the north,’ he smiled, then turned serious. ‘I want people to understand that you and Molly are now under my protection. That they mess with me if they don’t treat you respectfully.’

  ‘And me sitting in the bleachers at a rodeo, over seven months pregnant, will do that how, exactly? The gossips will have a field day.’

  He squatted next to her and ran his knuckles gently over her swollen belly. ‘Are you ashamed of what we’ve done? Of being pregnant?’

  She stared at him, surprised. How odd that she wasn’t. She felt none of the shame about the way she’d brought Molly into existence. Her voice was breathy. ‘No.’

  ‘Then let them talk. This way it gets it out in public. No more hiding, Lea.’

  There was only one reason that would be important. Her mouth dried. ‘You’re assuming I’m staying for good.’

  His gaze was enigmatic. ‘I’m counting on it. It’s the only choice you can make.’

  Reilly was building castles for himself and their children. He was forcing her hand. The grey skies seemed to close in that little bit more. Her pulse picked up and she changed the subject. ‘What are we doing until seven?’

  He straightened and crossed to the coat rack that stood by the door, then heaved his heavy oilskin-coat on. How he didn’t swelter in all that gear in the heat of the wet season…

  His eyes dulled over carefully. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m training all day with Cooper. He thinks the Yurraji
mares might both be pregnant, so we need to get them gentled as soon as possible.’

  It was crazy to be disappointed at the thought of a whole day without Reilly. Not when he was offering her a lifetime with him. Seven o’clock suddenly seemed a long way off. Still, there was no shortage of things to do. Molly was due to start distance ed this year and she had a pile of assessment tests to take so that the city-based service could design a programme for her first year of schooling. And Lea’s brokers were waiting to hear back from her on some acquisitions.

  She’d finally accepted Reilly’s contribution to the ICSI treatment and Molly’s medical costs and had paid her portfolio back the money she’d siphoned off. If she was considering a lifetime with Reilly she didn’t want to come to him with nothing of her own. Her pride just wouldn’t allow it.

  Not that she was doing more than considering it, her subconscious rushed to remind her.

  ‘Okay, I guess I’ll see you around seven, then.’

  Reilly turned for the paddocks and tugged his hat down firmly. ‘It’s a dress-up thing, Lea. The one night of the year…’ He dipped his head and stepped out into the pummelling rain.

  What sort of ‘dress-up’ would Reilly choose? A tux was definitely out, but what about a suit? A fancy land-baron ensemble? She’d never seen him in anything other than casual station-wear. Her cheeks flamed as she remembered that wasn’t true. She’d seen quite a lot of him in nothing at all. She fanned her cheeks as if that would temper the spreading blush. Forbidden images clamoured for prominence. She battled them all back and looked over to the feed-shed.

  She’d sat atop its roof only a week or so ago and begged Reilly for an answer. A miracle. He’d handed her one that ensured neither of them had to endure the agony of the loss of a child. Surely this decision should be a no-brainer?

  Why then was it hurting her so much to make it?

  ‘You look…’

  Reilly stood framed by the kitchen doorway, his eyes carefully neutral.

  Lea had a panic moment, thinking she’d chosen inappropriately. And at how excited she was to see him again; it had only been a few hours. She ran nervous hands down her wraparound dress over her bulging belly and disguised her discomfort in humour. ‘Heavily pregnant?’