She escaped him the first moment she could, running to her room and changing into her Fat Day Jeans. She was going to have to buy new jeans soon, she’d already begun to design her maternity wardrobe and had even made a few pieces. She took the rug and went out to the sea, trying to understand her behaviour, Jack’s behaviour and wondering about her future.
Because this Jack, who seemed a permanent fixture (the multiple personalities had totally disappeared), was the Jack who slipped into her heart that night four months ago in a way she thought he’d never leave.
And this would mean she’d been wrong when she’d accused him of using her as a prize in a competition with his brother.
And that would mean that she’d thrown their night in his face, a night to her that was so magical she thanked her lucky stars for it. A night about which, at the time, she thought he’d felt the same thing.
Which would mean what she’d done was beyond rude. It was insulting and even unforgiveable.
But she couldn’t ignore the conversation she’d heard Joy and Yasmin having. And she couldn’t ignore the behaviour of Jack and Miles in the stables which proved true their obnoxious rivalry. And lastly she couldn’t ignore the way Jack himself had treated her when he was one of the different Jacks.
And she knew better not to proceed with caution.
She’d been hurt before, again and again (and again) in ways many women (luckily) never endured.
Belle knew the pain of a betrayal of trust hurt far worse than a fist slammed into your cheekbone or an arm twisting yours excruciatingly painfully up your back.
Therefore she knew better than to let anyone have that opportunity again.
On this thought, either her mind was so engrossed or the sound of the sea swallowed all other noises, because she missed the auditory warning of someone approaching and felt movement right at her back.
Before she knew what was happening, Jack settled behind her as she saw his legs surround her body, bent at the knees.
Then his arms slid around her at her waist and he pulled her back into his chest.
Belle’s body went still at both the memory of when he held her this way before and the beauty of being held that way now.
His mouth came to her ear and he whispered, “I see you out here and wonder what’s in your mind, poppet.”
“I come out here to clear my mind,” she told him honestly.
“Is it working?” he asked.
She shook her head so she heard his chuckle, up close, right in her ear and the sound of it made her tremble.
She felt his hand’s slight movement and it came to rest on the baby while his other arm stayed wrapped loosely, but strangely possessively, around her.
Belle had the sudden wish that this was them, sitting by the sea next to his daunting but beautiful castle after sharing a Saturday together, quietly and patiently waiting for their baby to arrive. A baby whose arrival would not mean the end of what they had now, but would be the beginning of something even more wonderful.
As she had this thought, Jack asked, “Do you want to share what’s on your mind?”
She shook her head again instantly.
No, it was safe to say she did not want to share.
He didn’t speak.
She looked down at her belly and her hand, as if it had a mind of its own, moved to touch the healing scabs at his knuckles.
“Do you want to tell me about Miles?” she asked, also as if her mouth had a mind of its own.
“No,” he replied in a way she wished she could take the words back but his hand left her belly, twisted and caught hers. He lifted it, up and over her shoulder, where he brought it to his mouth and touched his lips to it.
Belle lungs compressed all the air out of her body as he dropped both their hands and positioned them, hers flat against the baby, his on top.
“Let’s just say Miles was far more polite when you were there than he was after you left,” he told her and Belle couldn’t imagine that as Miles had been well beyond rude when she was there.
Jack kept talking.