than that he was as eager to leave Scotland as she was to stay. He was talking to her as he might talk to one of his brood mares on the pampas, a creature that must be soothed before it could be coaxed to go anywhere but a creature that would inevitably do exactly as he said.
‘What happens when I’ve given birth to our child?’ she asked quietly, still with her feet firmly rooted on Scottish soil.
Luc’s stare flickered. ‘Nothing. Not right away.’
So like that brood mare she would be allowed to wean her child, at which stage her baby would be taken away from her and she would be superfluous, and Luc would get rid of her. How different would that make her from her parents, who had never wanted her and who had passed her around? Was she going to let that happen to her own child? Or was she going to channel the grief she still felt at their wasted lives into a positive force for the good of her baby?
‘You can make your time in Brazil pleasant or not, Emma,’ Luc said, shifting position impatiently. ‘It’s in your hands entirely.’
Was it? As long as she made her mind up fast, she suspected, and in his favour, of course. Luc was shrewdly playing her, making it sound as if she would be in control, when they both knew it was he who held the reins. For now.
Seeing the cabin staff waiting patiently for them at the top of the steps, she asked the final question on her mind. ‘Will I be expected to share your bed in Brazil?’
For the first time since he’d found out about their baby a glimmer of humour flashed into Luc’s eyes. ‘Do you want to?’
She knew at once he still wanted her. God help her, she wanted him too. There was no concern in his manner as he ran up the steps to greet the waiting crew. Luc was so sure of the eventual outcome, why would he feel any concern?
‘Emma. Come and meet everyone.’
She was surprised to be included in the warm greetings at the top of the steps, but was glad of it, and hurried to shake hands.
And so he had got her out of Scotland. It had been that easy, she realised ruefully as the friendly cabin staff ushered her inside the jet. She didn’t need to look at Luc to see the gleam of triumph in his eyes. She knew it would be there. Where persuasion had failed him, he’d used her innate good manners against her to achieve the result he wanted. As Luc left her to complete the preflight checks, his cabin staff ushered her to her seat, which looked more like a comfortable armchair than a necessary perch on a jet. It was flanked by a magazine rack, a drinks bar, a selection of tempting nibbles, and even a tray holding high-end beauty products for her to indulge in during the flight. Luc looked in on her briefly as she was trying to settle into her glitzy surroundings.
‘There are some new clothes for you in the bedroom at the back of the plane,’ he said, killing her smile. Nothing had been overlooked, it seemed, and she was slightly offended that the clothes she had chosen to wear didn’t pass muster, though she could accept that she hardly looked like managerial material in her beat-up coat. And it would be far too heavy to wear in Brazil, she reasoned, common-sensing herself out of the embarrassment.
‘There’s a bathroom too, so you can freshen up any time you want.’
‘Thank you.’
Luc stood framed in the doorway to the cockpit, watching her for a moment. His face was in shadow. His arm was resting on the door. She couldn’t read his expression, and had to remind herself that this wasn’t about her pride but about an unborn child.
Their child.
However incredible that seemed, she smiled up at the waiting cabin crew, accepted an orange juice, and slipped off her sale-rail coat. Handing it over to them, she settled back.
* * *
Brazil. The warm air, the scents, the smells, the light, the sounds—Emma was dazzled from the instant she stepped onto the tarmac. Even at the airport, there were the smiles of the people, the music of a samba blaring from a
‘What happens when I’ve given birth to our child?’ she asked quietly, still with her feet firmly rooted on Scottish soil.
Luc’s stare flickered. ‘Nothing. Not right away.’
So like that brood mare she would be allowed to wean her child, at which stage her baby would be taken away from her and she would be superfluous, and Luc would get rid of her. How different would that make her from her parents, who had never wanted her and who had passed her around? Was she going to let that happen to her own child? Or was she going to channel the grief she still felt at their wasted lives into a positive force for the good of her baby?
‘You can make your time in Brazil pleasant or not, Emma,’ Luc said, shifting position impatiently. ‘It’s in your hands entirely.’
Was it? As long as she made her mind up fast, she suspected, and in his favour, of course. Luc was shrewdly playing her, making it sound as if she would be in control, when they both knew it was he who held the reins. For now.
Seeing the cabin staff waiting patiently for them at the top of the steps, she asked the final question on her mind. ‘Will I be expected to share your bed in Brazil?’
For the first time since he’d found out about their baby a glimmer of humour flashed into Luc’s eyes. ‘Do you want to?’
She knew at once he still wanted her. God help her, she wanted him too. There was no concern in his manner as he ran up the steps to greet the waiting crew. Luc was so sure of the eventual outcome, why would he feel any concern?
‘Emma. Come and meet everyone.’
She was surprised to be included in the warm greetings at the top of the steps, but was glad of it, and hurried to shake hands.
And so he had got her out of Scotland. It had been that easy, she realised ruefully as the friendly cabin staff ushered her inside the jet. She didn’t need to look at Luc to see the gleam of triumph in his eyes. She knew it would be there. Where persuasion had failed him, he’d used her innate good manners against her to achieve the result he wanted. As Luc left her to complete the preflight checks, his cabin staff ushered her to her seat, which looked more like a comfortable armchair than a necessary perch on a jet. It was flanked by a magazine rack, a drinks bar, a selection of tempting nibbles, and even a tray holding high-end beauty products for her to indulge in during the flight. Luc looked in on her briefly as she was trying to settle into her glitzy surroundings.
‘There are some new clothes for you in the bedroom at the back of the plane,’ he said, killing her smile. Nothing had been overlooked, it seemed, and she was slightly offended that the clothes she had chosen to wear didn’t pass muster, though she could accept that she hardly looked like managerial material in her beat-up coat. And it would be far too heavy to wear in Brazil, she reasoned, common-sensing herself out of the embarrassment.
‘There’s a bathroom too, so you can freshen up any time you want.’
‘Thank you.’
Luc stood framed in the doorway to the cockpit, watching her for a moment. His face was in shadow. His arm was resting on the door. She couldn’t read his expression, and had to remind herself that this wasn’t about her pride but about an unborn child.
Their child.
However incredible that seemed, she smiled up at the waiting cabin crew, accepted an orange juice, and slipped off her sale-rail coat. Handing it over to them, she settled back.
* * *
Brazil. The warm air, the scents, the smells, the light, the sounds—Emma was dazzled from the instant she stepped onto the tarmac. Even at the airport, there were the smiles of the people, the music of a samba blaring from a
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