Reclaiming His Pregnant Widow by Tessa Radley Page A

have incinerated her on the spot.
    Harry leaned forward. “So see this as repayment. Take advantage of me—let Brand continue to think you’re carrying my baby. You don’t have to tell him the truth right away. Give yourself some space, and choose the right time to tell him.”
    Harry had a point.
    Clea had always reacted on impulse…and it hadn’t always served her well. Even deciding to have the baby had been a heartfelt reaction to the chasm Brand’s absence had left in her life, an attempt to build the family they’d discussed. She’d so badly needed something… someone …to give meaning to her life.
    Conceiving the baby had done that.
    If she did as Harry suggested and continued to let Brand believe that Harry was her baby’s father a little longer, then Brand would also keep believing that Harry was her lover. It would be easier to keep him at a distance, making it far less likely that Brand would pick up on her body’s humiliating reaction to him. It would give her a mask to hide behind.
    Which reminded her…
    â€œUm…there’s something else you should know.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI told Brand we planned to get married.”
    Harry stared at her in disbelief, and then gave a shout of laughter that caused heads at the neighboring tables to turn. “Too funny.”
    â€œSee? I’ve already taken advantage of you.”
    Clea didn’t want to face up to the fact that she also wanted to make Brand sweat just a little. After all, he’d vanished for four years without explanation with a woman he’d never bothered to tell her he’d once lived with. Yet last night he’d so clearly expected her to crawl into bedwith him in spite of all the distrust and tension simmering between them. Brand deserved to suffer—for a while.
    But she had no intention of allowing him to permanently believe Harry was her baby’s father.
    â€œUse me as your human shield for as long as you want. Let Brand believe you intend to file for a divorce.” Harry beckoned to the waiter hovering a distance away.
    On cue Clea picked up her menu, though food was the last thing on her mind right now. “A human shield is exactly what I need,” she told him with deep relief.
    Harry as protection would help her to resist her attraction to Brand, though she wouldn’t go as far as telling Brand she wanted a divorce yet. It might be weak-minded of her, but it would certainly be effective. Already she could feel an easing of the strain that had settled over her since Brand’s return. “Harry, you’re the best friend a woman could want.”
    He gave her a bittersweet smile. “Anytime. Now I deserve some champagne to celebrate our so-called engagement.”
    Â 
    When Brand heard a car purr to a stop outside he found himself on his feet, stomach muscles tightening with expectation, as he cocked his head, listening for the lilt of Clea’s voice.
    Brand had finally conceded that Clea was right: Perhaps they had not communicated enough in the past. He’d considered the communication they shared in the bedroom enough. He’d told her how he felt with actions, not words. But now he was starting to realize that there were things they should’ve discussed. However difficult that might be for him.
    Tonight he planned to begin building a bridge across the chasm of unspoken hurt and broken promises that laybetween them. To that end, he’d given Curtis the night off, to make sure he would be alone with Clea. The butler had initially protested, but Brand told him that after four years’ absence, he needed time alone with his wife. To Brand’s relief, Smythe had walked Curtis out. Now two mugs of chocolate—hot and frothy, just as Clea had always liked it—stood steaming on the butler’s tray.
    The sound of male laughter was unwelcome.
    Brand strode out of the study into the hallway just as the