Divine Design (17 page)

Slowly, he began to thrust upward. When he was sure he caused pleasure, not pain, he relinquished his control and took his own delicious gratification.

Meghan’s world began to spin again until its revolutions became a black swirling mist through which she could see nothing, only feel. Bright lights within her reach beckoned her forward, closer and closer until she could experience their intense heat. For one brief moment of ecstasy, she became one with the light and it shone brighter than ever before. Then she fell away and floated peacefully back to life.

Strong, sure hands lowered her gently to the bed and folded her into a muscled embrace.

They lay silently for a long time, savoring their closeness, yet they were worlds apart. Michael was in heaven. Now that he’d broken through her wall and she had admitted to loving him, all he had to do was convince her to share the rest of her life with him. And he was an optimistic kind of guy, thinking the worst was over.

Meghan, on the other hand, had returned to her own private hell once the haze of passion had lifted. She couldn’t let him continue to think the baby was just some wonderful accident. After all, it wasn’t an out-and-out lie, simply a slight omission of the facts. All right, a gross omission, but did he have to know everything? Yes, he did, and she needed to tell him if they were ever to have a life together. But how would he react? Being used and lied to wasn’t exactly the compliment of the year. Could he understand her motives? Could he ever forgive her? She shivered at the thought of his hatred.

“Cold?” Michael asked as he pressed a warm kiss to her temple. He sat up to pull the covers over her naked body.

“A little,” she uttered, cuddling into the warmth of the blankets, suddenly exhausted from the mental and physical strain of their loving.

Michael got up and rummaged through her dresser drawers, finally returning with the flannel gown he’d discovered once before.

“Here, darlin’, put this on, and we’ll keep you cozy all night,” he said, as he helped her to sit up and get into the gown.

“Michael,” Meghan started, feeling compelled to speak by his gentleness and caring. “There’s more I need to tell you. I …”

“Shh,” he cautioned her. He could tell by her face that whatever she was about to say wasn’t good, and he didn’t want to hear it at this particular moment. He was too happy, too hopeful. There was time enough to deal with little problems now that their major obstacle had been overcome. A whole lifetime. “Go to sleep, darlin’. We’ll talk in the morning. Tonight I just want to hold you.”

And he did. Wrapped in a long flannel nightgown and Michael’s arms, Meghan slept like a baby. Michael didn’t succumb to his exhaustion for quite a while. Having her in his arms at last, he lay awake and planned a future for Meghan and the baby and himself.

A week later Connie showed up, unannounced, for a visit. Meghan hadn’t had a chance, as yet, to tell Michael about her deliberate seduction of him the night they first met. Every time she thought she had the nerve to tell him, he’d say or do something to interrupt her. Meghan was a little anxious at first when Connie showed up, hoping his disapproval of her actions wouldn’t tip Michael off to the truth somehow. She wanted to be the one to tell him in her own way.

Connie was his old, loving self again, and he didn’t seem at all surprised when he found out Michael had moved in with her. He later explained this to Meghan in the kitchen, while he got Michael and himself another beer and mentioned purposefully that he’d talked to Lucy recently. He even went so far as to tell her he was glad that Michael was the father of her baby.

In fact, she was a little jealous of the way Michael and Connie got along so well. They rooted for opposite teams in the football game on television that afternoon. In the evening they cheered together for the same basketball team. In between games they bragged about their own athletic prowess. They talked hunting and cars and hockey and rodeos.

Meghan was sure that when she went to her room for a nap, the first in a week without Michael, they didn’t even know she was gone.

“How’s she doing?” Connie leaned over to ask Michael the question in a low voice when he heard her bedroom door close.

Michael grinned. “I think she’s mad because you didn’t ask her that question, but she’s fine. The doctor thinks it’s going to be a big baby, but with her build, she shouldn’t have any problems.”

Connie looked relieved, then sat back in his chair. He studied the air between him and the ceiling for several seconds, and as if speaking his thoughts out loud, he said, “Can you believe her doing that? I mean, wanting a baby is one thing, but to methodically interview and choose the perfect father, and then proceed to seduce a perfect stranger, takes a hell of a lot of nerve. To say nothing of how crazy a thing it was to do,” he finished, as if he still couldn’t believe it was true.

The silence grew ominous. Connie slowly turned to Michael and was astonished to see the thunderstruck look on his very pale face. He knew instantly he had blundered.

“Oh, Lord,” he said, and then, agitated beyond words, Connie repeated his prayer.

The two men stared at one another, one in horror, the other in disbelief. It was the former who found enough words in his head for a complete sentence.

“I thought she’d told you everything.” He paused. “You two seemed so tight, I thought she’d told you and you’d worked it all out,” he explained.

“No, she didn’t, so maybe you’d better,” Michael said sharply.

“She’ll kill me,” cried Connie.

“Then you’re in a no-win situation, my friend,” the dazed Texan promised dangerously.

Connie heaved the sigh of a doomed man and began telling Michael of Meghan’s ambition to have a baby. He told of how she had meticulously planned and executed her scheme. Connie went on to Michael about how she’d gone to the Essex House the summer before and systematically picked out men attending a physics symposium to interview. Meghan had disguised herself as a sociologist or psychologist or something, he said, and when she had finally found the man she thought would be perfect to father her child, she brazenly had set out to seduce him. Connie went so far as to detail her care to make sure the man was from out of town so that she’d never see him again. She hadn’t even asked his name. Finally, he tacked on the facts that once she was sure it had worked, she arranged to get time off from work and hired a housekeeper in preparation for the main event.

“Tell me,” Michael inquired, “has she ever done this before?”

“No, thank heaven. To tell the truth, I don’t think she would again, either.”

“Why not?”

“She said she couldn’t have gone through with it at all if you hadn’t been so nice. She said she was just about to give up the whole idea and go home, when you walked into the lounge. You were going to be her last try, and if you turned out to be as big a jerk as the rest of them, it would have been all over. Turned out you were wonderful and kind and gentle, she said. Meghan felt so guilty afterward, she could hardly look at herself in the mirror.”

“When did you find all this out?” Michael asked.

“Not until she came to Boston in September. By then it was way too late.”

“And I was never to know?” His tone was thoughtful, but not angry.

“You were supposed to leave town none the wiser,” Connie said with a shrug.

He certainly had left town “none the wiser,” thought Michael as he walked the streets of New Bedford. To say his anger kept him warm would be a gross understatement. He wondered how many men, including himself, had done that very same thing at least a dozen times. He had met and bedded beautiful women before, maybe even dated them once or twice afterward, only to never see them again—or even think of them again. How many of them had been impregnated accidentally or through their design? The thought was extremely disconcerting.

Oddly enough, taking into consideration Meghan’s deep desire to have a child, everything she had done made sense. If Michael hadn’t fallen in love with her, he would never have known and therefore he wouldn’t have cared or been affected in any way.

He could definitely understand her reluctance to tell him. At first it was probably to keep him from interfering. Later she probably wouldn’t have known how to, not to mention her fear of his reaction.

Did she really love him now? Or did she just find it convenient to have the father of her child in love with her. Being as objective as possible, he decided she did truly love him. She had tried to avoid him by running away to have her baby alone, just as she had planned. He had chased her. If she’d thought it was necessary for a child to have a father, she’d have found some other way to get pregnant. No, she had intended that the baby be fatherless.

So how long did she plan to keep Michael in the dark? The question intrigued him. And what should he do in the meantime—confront her and wring her neck, or hope to God she’d find the courage to tell him herself … and then wring her neck?

That he still had deep feelings for her, he couldn’t deny, but his pride and anger demanded retribution. Understanding her motives and knowing she had meant him no harm were of little comfort at this point. She was like an exotic snake to him, mysterious and repulsive at once.

On the other hand, maybe he should just keep walking, all the way back to New York and out of her life … maybe …

Meghan got up from her nap to find a sheepish Connie waiting to take his leave.

“I’m sorry I got so mad when you first told me about what you’d done,” he apologized. “But it was a damned fool thing to do. You could have been killed so easily, and I care too much about you to have you running around doing things like that.”

“I know, Connie, and I’m sorry. And please believe me. I have no intention of ever doing anything so rash again,” she replied adamantly.

“Well, hang on to Michael and he won’t let you. He’s a good man,” Connie approved, purposely avoiding telling her that he’d let the cat out of the bag.

“I know,” she said in sincere agreement.

“He’s going to make a great father for your kid,” Connie concluded.

“I know.”

A
COUPLE OF
days later Michael returned from a trip into town and entered a darkened house.

“Shh,” hissed Meghan from the recesses of the couch.

By the light of the television he made his way across the room and sat on the cushion she was patting beside her. She crawled into his arms and draped her long legs out across the sofa.

He held her close, loving the feel of her body next to his. Her lavender scent filled the air. He inhaled deeply and rubbed his chin in the soft hair on the top of her head. One had rested below her left breast, the other made long soothing strokes over her large abdomen.

My lady and my baby, he thought wondrously. The times he’d dreamed of this moment, and yet as glorious as it was, it wasn’t as perfect as he’d hoped. If only she’d tell him. If only … Maybe if his latest idea to outmaneuver her worked, she’d be able to build up enough faith in him to tell him the truth. And if she couldn’t? Well, he didn’t relish the idea, but he knew as a last resort he could force her to explain … and then what? Time and self-counsel had done much to cool his ire, but the hurt and the desperate hope that Meghan would make things right remained.

He sat silently, relishing her nearness while an old black-and-white movie played on the television. As the hero paced impatiently back and forth on top of the Empire State Building, listening to the shrill sounds of ambulance and police sirens from below, Michael realized that the movie was vaguely familiar to him. It was then, too, that he noticed the tears streaming down Meghan’s cheeks.

He gave her an affectionate squeeze and lovingly kissed the top of her head. “I think I’ve seen this before. What’s the name of it?” he murmured softly, so as not to interrupt the drama.

She cast him a look of great disdain and blew her nose. “An Affair to Remember.” She sighed mournfully. “I’ve seen it a hundred times.”

“And do you cry every time?” he whispered in her ear.

“Every time,” she stated, snuggling closer to him.

He held her tighter, trying with all his might to transmit to her the enormity of his love. Consciously or subconsciously, she got the message. She looked at him with moist, bright green eyes. Her hand moved up slowly to rest on the late-afternoon stubble of his beard. Even its roughness felt wonderful to her.

“I love you,” she whispered, her eyes telling him how much.

He bent his head and sensuously nibbled on her lower lip. “And I love you, Meghan,” he murmured against her mouth.

He explored her lips and knew he’d never tire of the study. He passed his tongue between them and she opened to him willingly, her arm sliding around to the back of his neck. As their kiss deepened, she turned to press as tightly against his chest as she could, given her condition.

Their kisses softened sensuously, then deepened passionately until Michael, feeling his arousal, drew back slightly.

“You’re missing your movie,” he said on a long breath, as he ran his lips softly across hers.

“I know how it ends,” she mumbled against his neck, as her tongue made little swirling motions over his sensitive skin.

“You do know what you’re doing, don’t you?” His voice was thick and husky.

“I know I’m not knitting booties.” She planted kisses down the side of his neck.

Michael moaned his desire and gave her a quick squeeze. “Meghan, I want you so badly …”

“I love you, Michael. And I’m fairly certain that if you don’t let me make love with you pretty soon, there’s a good chance I’ll go blind,” she said solemnly, her eyes twinkling. “Actually, it’s taken all my willpower to keep from attacking you since you came through that door.”

“And you’re wasting all this perfectly good restraint on me?” he asked, amused and amazed, knowing self-control was not one of her strong points.

“I guess I’m finding it hard to believe you could love someone who looks like one of the World Trade Center buildings,” she admitted reluctantly.

Michael laughed. Casting her a sly look of disbelief, he said, “Why, Mary Meghan Shay. Are you fishing for a compliment?”