For the Babies' Sakes (Expecting) (Harlequin Presents, No. 2280) by Sara Wood Page B

soul that lay on her doorstep. She leaned back, soothed by the village atmosphere, by the lifestyle she’d share with her child.
    â€˜This baby is very important to me.’ Dan’s curt words broke in on her reverie.
    Tense suddenly, she slanted a glance at his rigid profile, unable to make out his mood or his intention. Fear clutched at her. Was he going to fight her for custody?
    â€˜And to me!’ she breathed, her pulses jerking about all over the place.
    â€˜You know the kind of childhood I had.’
    Too well. Her heart softened and ached for him. ‘Yes, Dan. I do.’
    â€˜You’ll understand, then,’ he said, eyes dark and burning upon her, ‘why I don’t want our child to suffer because of us.’
    Helen blinked. What was he getting at? ‘He, she, won’t,’ she said hastily. ‘We might feel angry and bitter at the moment, but things will calm down and by the time the baby’s born I’m sure we’ll have formed a vaguely amicable relationship—’
    â€˜I don’t want that.’
    Her antennae quivered. ‘You want us to be at war with one another?’
    Dan looked away and stared unseeingly at the quacking ducks. It was obvious that he was very unhappy. Rips appeared in her heart again. He was so near, and yet so far, his familiar, muscular arms close enough to touch in a sympathetic and understanding gesture… But the gulf that yawned between them was unbridgeable.
    â€˜I want our child to have two parents,’ he said flatly.
    Puzzled, she replied, ‘Of course it will!’
    â€˜No,’ he said with deliberate care. ‘I mean two biological parents who share in every part of our child’s life.’
    Helen gasped. ‘You and me? You know that’s impossible!’
    Sculptured lips tightened in an obstinate line. ‘There is a way.’ He turned, fire and urgency setting his eyes alight. ‘There must be. I can accept nothing less.’
    â€˜Dan—’ she began uncertainly.
    â€˜Do I have to spell it out to you?’ he demanded hotly. ‘My hell won’t be my baby’s hell. It’s as simple as that.’
    He could hardly bear this. His mouth twisted with painful memories. Helen had made him resurrect things he’d buried long ago.
    The life-long absence of his father, who’d pushed off when his mother had declared she was pregnant. A father he’d never known and didn’t ever want to. But he’d longed for the love of a father, dear God, he wished he’d had that.
    Other things crowded his mind, arousing emotions he’d carefully stifled. As a silent, indrawn child, he’d watched his mother grow thin and grey and old, while she’d worked from morning to night trying to scrape together enough money to feed them.
    Sometimes at night he would wake to the sound of her heart-rending sobs and knew there was nothing he could do except be good, wash up, make the supper, keep out of her way, and do well at school so that he could look after her one day and care for her as he longed to.
    His abiding memory was of wanting her attention, a hug, thanks for doing the chores, praise for the exams he passed. But he’d held back from telling her this because he’d known she’d been a walking automaton with no emotion to spare for him.
    Each day he’d wondered who would be looking after him when the school day finished. He’d felt like a human pass the parcel: unwanted, unloved, a nuisance under sufferance.
    Stay in the corner. Go to your room. Keep your mouth shut. Come near me and I’ll belt you. His stomach churned. A hell of a life.
    And then he’d met Helen.
    He realised she was speaking.
    â€˜â€¦except it’s not the same situation, as yours was, Dan,’ she was saying gently. ‘I won’t be penniless like your mother. I have good earnings, something put by. You are financially secure,