The Marriage Replay Read Free

her and tell her that he was taking her home .
    But she and Reece didn’t even share a home any more, she painfully reminded herself—and probably wouldn’t again after the outcome of this meeting. So her longing would have to go unanswered.
    â€˜It was just the stupidest thing…the smell of the coffee, that’s all. It’s never happened before. I’m sorry.’
    Sorrel didn’t see Reece’s own face practically drain of colour. Returning to his seat, he didn’t sit down but formidably remained standing. His commanding presence was even more riveting in this solemn, almost funereal room. She gazed up at him in genuine bewilderment.
    â€˜What’s the matter?’
    â€˜Did it even occur to you that you might be pregnant, Sorrel?’ he asked, emerald eyes glittering hard.
    The truth hit her like a thunderbolt shooting out of the sky. The queasy churning stomach she had had for days now; the acute tingling sensation in her breasts; the need to have all the windows opened in whatever room shewas in else otherwise she’d feel as if there wasn’t enough air to breathe. Never having been pregnant before, Sorrel had put all those symptoms down to the fact that she was mourning her doomed relationship. She’d been heartsick and in despair, because despite everything—the rows, the tension, the sometimes seemingly relentless periods of deep unhappiness—she loved Reece almost more than life itself.
    And her periods had never been completely reliable anyway. Two or three months could easily go by without her having one or being alarmed by the fact. But the night before the row to end all rows she and Reece had loved each other long into the night. And because he’d been away for a whole month, and their need for each other had almost been bordering on desperate—in spite of their marital difficulties—they hadn’t given a thought to using protection…
    â€˜I’m—I’m not! I can’t be!’
    Helplessly she glanced across at Edward Carmichael, who had linked his perfectly manicured hands together and was frowning deeply—just like a prosecutor in a medieval court, having just found Sorrel guilty of witchcraft.
    Her voice rose. ‘I’ve just had a bit of an upset stomach, that’s all!’
    â€˜Have you seen a doctor?’
    His voice still sounding remote, as though nothing would ever make it warm towards her ever again, Reece kept his piercing gaze focused on Sorrel’s stricken face.
    â€˜No. Why should I have? I was—I was upset about all this…about us. I didn’t think it was due to anything else.’
    She was stunned, the full impact of the possibility of pregnancy starting to permeate her brain.
    â€˜I think under the circumstances that I should leave you two to talk, Mr Villiers.’
    Rising to his feet, the solicitor glanced reprovingly from one to the other.
    â€˜Take as long as you like. Just tell my receptionist when you’re ready to see me again.’
    As the door closed firmly shut behind him, Reece didn’t quite know what to do with the plethora of strong emotion that was running wildly through his veins. Sorrel was pregnant. He needed a moment for the idea to sink in. She was going to have a baby. His heart felt as if it was on a white-water ride, hurtling towards inevitable rapids. It was very definitely heading into even more dangerous waters when a new and unwelcome thought ruthlessly impinged itself upon his already assaulted mind.
    â€˜Is it mine?’ he demanded, his tone furious and condemning.
    Her gaze didn’t waver for even an instant from her husband’s angry yet undoubtedly handsome face, but the hurt that his cruel reaction engendered momentarily sucked all the breath from her lungs—like the wave of heat that hit mercilessly when you stepped out of an air-conditioned hotel lobby onto the baking pavements of Crete or Rome.
    â€˜I