Unless he was just deluding himself…?
He released her abruptly, turning away. ‘You’re right. It’s past time we were both getting to work.’
‘Yes, sir!’ Hebe came back tauntingly.
Nick closed his eyes briefly before walking away. He had to walk away, otherwise he really might do something he would regret.
Hebe watched Nick leave, her heart heavy, knowing that the closeness they had reached last night before Sally’s call really had been a myth—that they had no common ground but the baby she carried.
The next seven and a half months, until her body became her own once more, loomed over her like a dark shadow.
Work—that was the answer. She had always loved her job at the gallery, and even knowing of Nick’s brooding presence up in his office on the second floor wouldn’t rob her of that pleasure today. She quickly lost herself in her work once she had explained to Jane, the manager, that Nick had been mistaken, and she intended working for several more months yet.
Her colleagues were agog with curiosity, of course, and eyed her ring enviously, which made things a little awkward. But once they realised Hebe was just her normal self, even if she was shortly going to marry the owner of the gallery, they all settled down to the easy friendship they had always enjoyed.
Well, more or less, Hebe acknowledged ruefully.
There were no more comments in her hearing about their gorgeous boss, or any wondering about what Nick looked like naked, but if that was the only change in their behaviour, Hebe could certainly cope with that. In fact, talking about Nick like that wasn’t something she wanted to do right now, anyway!
It was her hormones that caused this weakness in her legs and the ache in her body whenever she thought of him, she tried to convince herself. They were all haywire because she was expecting a baby, that was all.
She repeated that to herself when Nick walked into the gallery later that morning, and she felt the heat course through her body just looking at him.
He really was as gorgeous as her work colleagues said he was—and she had very good reason to know exactly how Nick looked naked!
She tensed as he strode forcefully down the gallery towards her with his usual vitality, remembering how she had run her fingers through that overlong dark hair last night, how muscled that body was beneath the tailored grey suit he wore.
‘Yes?’ She faced him defensively.
‘We have an audience, Hebe,’Nick murmured softly with a pointed look at Kate, working further down the cavernous gallery. ‘Is that all the greeting you have for your fiancé?’
She shot him an irritated glance. ‘So you want us to maintain a certain—discretion in front of the rest of your employees, don’t you?’
No, not really, he thought. Discretion was the last thing that came to mind in connection with his thoughts about Hebe! And she wasn’t just an employee, for God’s sake, she was his fiancée.
‘I thought that would be what you’d want,’ he drawled dryly. ‘I also thought you might like to know that my lawyers have telephoned, and the wedding has been arranged—two weeks on Friday, two-thirty in the afternoon,’ he informed her with satisfaction—and watched as her face paled in response to the news that she was marrying him in eighteen days’ time.
Damn it, why did she always act as if marrying him was almost as bad as being marched to the gallows, instead of a wedding to a man who had more money than she could spend in a lifetime?
‘I thought you might like to call your parents and let them know now that we have a definite date and time,’ he rasped.
‘I tried calling them earlier, but there was no answer,’ she revealed with a slight frown.
Nick tensed, wondering why, when she had only seen them on Saturday, she should have tried to call them this morning. ‘Oh?’
Hebe grimaced. ‘They’re usually at home on a Monday morning.’
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps this Monday morning they decided to do something different.’
‘Maybe.’ She nodded, obviously not satisfied.
Nick frowned. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Hebe.’
She had tried not to, but the more she had thought about it the more convinced she had become that her parents had behaved very strangely on Saturday after Jacob Gardner’s name had been mentioned. Her call to them this morning had been an effort to reassure herself that they hadn’t—only to have the phone ringing and ringing their end, remaining unanswered.
‘I’ll call them back later,’ she dismissed now, not wanting Nick to realise how troubled she was.
‘Maybe—’
‘Nick—Hebe. I’m sorry to interrupt.’A slightly breathless Jane approached them. ‘But you have visitors.’
‘Just put them in a room somewhere and I’ll be out shortly,’ Nick said, with obvious impatience.
‘Actually, it’s Hebe who has visitors,’ Jane corrected awkwardly.
‘I do…?’ Hebe’s eyes widened in surprise.
Jane nodded. ‘They say they’re your parents—’
Hebe didn’t wait for the other woman to finish, and turned sharply on her heel to hurry from the room, not knowing whether Nick followed her or not—although she thought he probably would.
She had no idea what her parents were doing here, of all places, but at least she now had an answer as to where they had been this morning…!
CHAPTER TEN
NICK’S long strides easily caught up with Hebe’s shorter ones as she left the gallery, and he was at her side when they reached the huge marble entrance hall where Jean and Henry stood waiting.
He felt glad that he was there when he saw the strain on the older couple’s faces, more sure than ever that the disquiet he had felt on Saturday had been justified.
‘I hope you don’t mind, Nick?’ Jean said anxiously, even as she clasped both Hebe’s hands in hers. ‘We need to talk to Hebe. To both of you,’ she added softly.
‘If we could go somewhere—less public?’ Henry prompted quietly, as half a dozen people passed them on their way into the gallery.
‘Mum? Dad?’ Hebe frowned her concern as she looked at them both. ‘What’s wrong? Has something happened?’
‘We just need to talk to you, darling.’ Her mother squeezed her hands reassuringly. ‘We—have some things to explain.’ She looked pained at the admission.
‘We’ll go upstairs to my apartment,’ Nick decided briskly. ‘Hebe?’ he prompted pointedly, as she made no effort to move, her face pale as she looked searchingly at her mother.
Jean, he could easily see, was under extreme emotional pressure. Her eyes looked red and tearful; her face was as white as Hebe’s.
Whatever was going on here, Nick intended being at Hebe’s side when it happened. Whatever it was!
Hebe could feel her tension rising with the lift as it ascended, wondering if what her parents needed to talk to her so urgently about had something to do with Jacob Gardner.
She knew that Andrew Southern must have received her letter and photograph by now, and that even though she had given him the address of her flat, and the number of her mobile if he should want to contact her, there had been no response from him.
She was disappointed—deeply so. But if her parents could tell her something about Jacob Gardner that