Excerpt of Back in Her Husband's Bed by Melanie Milburne

CARLI stared at the thin blue line in horror. "Oh, my God!"

She clutched at the bathroom basin in much the same way she'd been doing on and off for weeks as she came to grips with the final devastating confirmation of her pregnancy.

The walls of the small room began to close in on her and she held on to consciousness with as much tenacity as she could.

Pregnant!

With Xavier's child! She opened her eyes to inspect the testing kit once more but it was still the same colour.

She stumbled through to the bedroom, her body shivering in reaction rather than to cold.

It must be a mistake!

It had to be a mistake. They'd only been together that one time and she had been sure she was in a safe period in her cycle, not that she'd really thought about it at the time.

She slammed her fist into her pillow and bit down on her bottom lip until she tasted blood.

She'd stormed from his hotel room vowing to never set eyes on him again, never imagining such a subsequent scenario as this! That one momentary lapse into passionate madness had set her world upside down.

She wouldn't tell him.

Oh, really, her conscience pricked her. What if he somehow found out? He's Sydney's best legal eagle. Don't forget: get him and get even. That was his credo and she knew he would just as easily apply it against her if pressed to do so.

OK, so she would tell him.

Yeah, right, as if he's going to accept the news with any sort of gladness.

"Oh, God!" She shut her eyes against the vision of his disdain. "I can't do it! I just can't do it!"

Nausea rolled in her stomach and she made a desperate lunge for the bathroom, only just making it in time.

She lifted her pale face to meet her reflection in the mirror above the basin, shocked at her pallor and even more alarmed by the haunted, hollow look in her caramel- brown gaze.

It took Carli a further twenty-seven days before she garnered enough courage to do what had to be done. She gave her slightly protruding abdomen a nervous stroke as she approached the office tower where Xavier had his suite of offices. She hadn't phoned to announce her intention of seeing him. She hadn't trusted herself not to blurt her news over the line instead of face to face. Not that either way was going to make things any easier. He was going to be shocked and quite possibly furious as well. His shock she could deal with, but his anger?

She took the stairs and lost count after floor number ten. She traipsed on doggedly, step by agonising step, feeling like someone on their way up to the gallows.

"Mr Knightly is in court and won't be back until four this afternoon," his middle-aged secretary announced in somewhat prim tones.

Carli's heart sank along with her courage. Could she wait three hours? And more to the point, could she go through the ordeal of the fire escape one more time?

"Who will I say wants to see him?" the secretary asked, picking up a pen and a message pad.

"I…Car…Carli Gresham," she said, knowing she wouldn't get an appointment without revealing her name.

"Carli as in Carla?" The secretary arched one pencilled brow at her.

"No," she said. "Carli as in Carli — trust me, he'll know exactly who it is."

Xavier was the only person in the legal profession to call her Carli instead of Carla, and by the simple exchange of that one letter managed to strip away the thin veneer of sophistication she had fought so hard to keep in place.

The secretary took in her slightly flushed appearance and her austere manner visibly softened. "Would you like a drink? Mr Knightly is often early from court when things go his way. You mightn't have such a long wait after all."

Carli felt like asking: when did things ever not go Xavier Knightly's way? However, she refrained from doing so when she caught sight of a water-cooler machine in the waiting area.

The secretary noticed the line of her gaze and ushered her towards it with all the efficiency of a mother hen. "Sit yourself down, Miss Gresham, and help yourself to a drink, or I could make you a coffee or tea instead?"

"No, thank you, water's fine, and it's Ms not Miss." 'Yes, of course it is, how silly of me." Before Carli could ask her what she meant she'd bustled back to her credenza, bent her head to her computer and begun tapping away like a barnyard hen did at spilled wheat.

Carli couldn't help wondering how many secretaries Xavier had worked his way through over the last five years.

This one seemed a little more sensible than his usual type and she couldn't help wondering what had brought about the change.

She sighed and picked up a magazine, flicking through it without interest. From time to time she glanced at the clock on the wall but the minutes appeared to be crawling by at an evolving invertebrate's pace.

She felt her usual afternoon lethargy hit like a sledgehammer and tried to keep her eyelids open but they felt weighted by anvils and she finally had to give in to the urge to close them.

The sofa she was sitting on was soft and comfortable and she settled into its leather cushions, promising herself she would shut her eyes for five minutes and five minutes only…

"How long has she been here?" Xavier asked his secretary in a deep undertone, a frown forming between his dark brows.

Elaine Johnston inspected the clock on the wall before answering in a sibilant whisper, "Two and a half hours."

He muttered a swear word under his breath. "I could have been back an hour ago but I had a drink with one of the other lawyers."

"Quite frankly I think she needed the sleep," Elaine whispered back. "She was very pale when she came in. Do you know her?"

"Know her?" He sent her an ironic glance. "I was once married to her."

Elaine's eyes went out on stalks. "That's your ex- wife?" 'Certainly is." His secretary's mouth opened and closed. "What does she want to see you about?" 'Can't be about a divorce," he said with a wry twist to his mouth. "We've already had one of those."

"If you ask me she looks rather fragile…" Elaine chewed the end of a pen thoughtfully.

"I didn't ask you, but believe me, she's a whole lot tougher than she looks."

"Well, I think I'll leave you to it," Elaine said, gathering up her things. "I don't think I want to be witness to the sparks that might fly once you get her alone."

Xavier didn't answer. He was still remembering the sparks that had flown the last time they were together, in fact had thought of little else in the four months since he'd last seen her. He'd thought of contacting her hundreds — no, thousands of times, but he'd promised her one drink and no further contact. And after she'd stormed out of his hotel room and left the conference before it was even over he'd had no choice but to assume she was perfectly content with the arrangement.

As if Carli sensed his presence she opened her eyes on his approach. She brushed back the hair off her face and slid her curled-up legs to the floor with a selfconscious adjustment of her long skirt and overflowing blouse as she stood up.

"Well, well, well," he drawled. "Look who's here." 'I had to see you." She didn't bother with a proper greeting, twisting her hands in front of her like a nervous school- girl.

"I'm sorry you had to wait," he said, his tone belying the apology of his words. "But I'm free now. Come into my office and let's get this over with."

It wasn't a good start, she thought as she followed him down the capacious hall to his plush office. She could tell he wasn't in a good mood and what she had to tell him was hardly going to lighten it.

He held the door for her and she stepped through, trying not to notice how her skirt brushed along his thigh as she went past.

She went to the chair opposite his desk and sat down on the edge of it, her eyes following him as he took his place behind the expansive rectangle of highly polished timber.

He moved forward in his chair and, leaning his arms on his desk, made a steeple with his fingers. "So, this must be pretty important. I thought you never wanted to see me again." His eyes locked on to hers.

"It is important." She ran her tongue over her dry lips. "Extremely important."

"Well?"

All her earlier rehearsals went out the window as she blurted, "I'm pregnant."

He didn't move a muscle. "I fail to see what this has to do with me," he said after a short pause. "Do you want me to represent you legally to extract funds from the father for your child's upkeep?"

She swallowed the constriction in her throat. "Who is the father by the way?" he added before she could find her voice. "Anyone I might know?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." He leant back in his chair, his right thumb compressing the top of a pen, the tiny clicks sounding loud in the pulsing silence.

"He's…" She hesitated. How could she tell him without some sort of preamble?

"You seem to be having some trouble recalling his name," he observed. "Is the field open to more than one perhaps?"

"No…" She gave him a hardened look. "I've so far been able to narrow it down to just the one." 'I'm very glad to hear it. Paternity cases these days are the pits. So who is it?"

"You're not going to believe it." 'Try me," he said, leaning even further back in his chair, one arm slung casually over the back.

"You."

This time he did flinch. "Me?" He got to his feet, his chair flying backwards to slam into the filing cabinet behind. He stared at her across his desk. "Me?"

"You're fertile, aren't you?" she asked. Xavier reached blindly for his abandoned chair and sat back down, the pen he'd been holding scuttling along the desk until it came to a halt beside his paperclip holder.

"You're joking of course." His chest felt tight, as if someone was squeezing him from the inside.

"I wish."

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Are you sure?" 'Sure as eggs, to use an apt choice of phrase."

"Christ." 'I've already tried appealing to the higher powers but so far no good." She sent him a reproachful glance. "I'm still pregnant."

He sent his chair back as he got to his feet once more. "We'll have to get married…" He scraped a hand through his hair and turned to face her. "We'll have to get married immediately."

"No."

"No?" He stared at her. "What do you mean, no?" 'I don't want to marry you." 'You have to marry me!" He almost shouted the words at her. "I do not have to marry you to have your child." 'But…but…" He sought desperately for a valid reason but could think of nothing on the hop.

"I'm not here for help," she said. "I'm here to let you know, that's all."

"I will not consent to being a part-time parent!" 'You seem to have no compunction in assigning that task to thousands of other parents out there when you represent their bitter other halves."

"That's different," he insisted. "How so?" 'You know it is," he argued. "I'm a lawyer, for God's sake. Do you think I'm going to allow myself to be screwed by another member of my profession?"

"I won't cause you any trouble." 'If that was supposed to reassure me let me tell you it hasn't. You're nothing but trouble from the tip of your pretty little nose to your very dainty feet."

"I'm sorry…" She felt a bubble of emotion clog her throat and fought it back down as best she could.

"Damn it!" he swore again.