From Mistresses To Wives?. Lee Wilkinson

were killed, and he told me.’

      Mind whirling, Jessica said slowly, ‘Your mother had no idea?’

      ‘Oh, yes. She’d been aware of it from the start.’

      ‘But she stayed with him? Your father, I mean.’

      ‘She stayed for my sake. I was about six months old when Brady was born.’

      Green eyes widened. ‘Your father had the affair while your mother was pregnant with you?’

      ‘So it would appear.’ Zac looked as if he was beginning to regret having begun this. ‘Some men find pregnancy a sexual turn-off. And no, I’m not finding excuses for him, but his sister-in-law—my aunt—obviously made herself readily available.’

      Jessica’s head was lowered, the lump in her throat hard to swallow. If his father had found pregnancy a sexual turn-off, then it was likely that he might too. Not a brilliant outlook for a marriage lacking anything else to hold it together—apart from those damned shares!

      ‘Lousy situation though it is, I don’t think you and Brady should allow it to colour your lives to the extent you do,’ she said thickly. ‘Your grandfather doesn’t help.’ She looked up as the thought struck her. ‘He did know?’

      Zac gave a short laugh. ‘He didn’t at the time. If he had, he’d have cut Dad off pronto. Brady told him within days of hearing it himself. Hence the added pressure on me to make good.’

      ‘You can’t possibly be blamed for what your father did!’

      ‘As his son, I’m expected to atone for it.’

      ‘That’s unfair!’

      ‘That’s life,’ Zac returned drily. ‘We’ve been asked to make another visit, by the way.’

      ‘Asked,’ she flashed, ‘or commanded?’

      The shrug was brief. ‘Tell it the way you see it. Whatever his faults, I’m fond of the old devil. Even more so of my grandmother. She’s devoted a lifetime to him. The least I can do is spend the occasional weekend.’ He paused, eyes veiled now as he regarded her. ‘I can’t force you to come with me, of course. That has to be up to you.’

      ‘But it will hardly do your image any good if I don’t.’

      The sarcasm left him unmoved. ‘Probably not. Anyway, it’s been a long day. I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too long. You look a bit washed out yourself.’

      He was gone before she could comment. Not that there was a great deal she could have said other than to tell him the reason she looked washed out, as he so tactfully put it. Her pregnancy would certainly enhance his stature in Henry Prescott’s eyes, but how would he regard it himself? A baby was going to alter their whole way of living.

      He was asleep when she finally went up, lying on his back, his breathing deep and even. Many men snored in that position, she’d heard, but she didn’t even have that much to find fault with.

      The night was warm, and he’d pushed the duvet aside. Nude, as always in bed, his body gleamed like bronze in the soft light from the bedside lamp he’d left burning. Jessica studied the strong, clean lines, eyes traversing a route downwards over the broad chest with its tapering V of hair to the hard-packed midriff and narrowed hipline, the firmly muscled thighs enclosing the very essence of his masculinity.

      Even dormant, he was well-endowed. She touched her tongue to lips gone dry at the image in her mind’s eye of how he looked when he was fully aroused. She wanted him desperately, but she wasn’t prepared to waken him. Not the way things were. He would have to know eventually, of course, but not yet. It was hardly as if she was going to give birth tomorrow.