Read Online The Fiancé He Can't Forget by Caroline Anderson - Free Book Online

she’d walked into the dining room. She wasn’t expecting him—none of them were, and he could see from the lack of lights that Ben and Daisy were out. So—to knock, or not to knock?
    Instinct told him he wouldn’t be welcome. Need told him to knock on the door anyway, to give her the benefit of the doubt, to try again, just one more time, to see if he could convince her to give their relationship another go.
    He still hesitated, then with a sharp shake of his head, he walked firmly up the path and rapped on the door.
    â€˜Amy, it’s Matt.’
    Why had he done that? If he’d kept quiet, she would have come to the door, but instead there was silence. He resisted the urge to bend down and peer through the letter box. She was entitled to ignore him if she wanted to, and anyway there was a holly wreath hanging over it and it would probably stab him in the eye.
    But she didn’t ignore him. The porch light came on,and he heard footsteps and the door swung inwards to reveal her standing there unsmiling.
    â€˜Hello, Matt,’ she said quietly, and his heart turned over.
    She looked—gorgeous. Her grey eyes were wary, her fair hair scrunched back in a ponytail as if she’d only just finished work and she was dressed in some shapeless rag of a jumper, but she looked warm and cosy and very, very dear, and he wanted to haul her into his arms and hold her.
    As if she knew it, she hugged her arms defensively, so he forced himself to make do with a smile. ‘Hi, there. Happy Christmas—or should that be Happy New Year?’
    She ignored both. ‘I didn’t think Ben and Daisy were expecting you,’ she said, her voice a little tight. ‘You hadn’t rung to confirm.’
    â€˜No. It was only tentative—a spur-of-the-moment thing.’ Very spur of the moment. Two hours ago he’d been sitting in his house staring at the bird feeder and trying to talk himself out of it. He probably should have done.
    â€˜Oh. Well, they’re out.’
    â€˜Will they be long?’ Hell, they were talking like strangers.
    â€˜I don’t know—why don’t you come in? You can’t stand out there for hours.’
    â€˜Will they be hours?’ he asked, following her down the hall and eyeing her bottom thoughtfully. Had she put on a little weight? He thought so. It suited her.
    â€˜I don’t know. Possibly. They’re looking at baby stuff in the sales.’
    Why had she said that? Why bring it up? She could have kicked herself, because absolutely the last thingshe wanted to talk about with Matt was babies, although she knew that conversation was coming sometime soon.
    â€˜I was just making tea. Do you want some?’
    â€˜Yeah, that would be good. Thank you.’
    So formal. So polite and distant. If he had any idea…
    â€˜You look well.’
    She felt heat climb her cheeks. ‘I am well.’ Very well, and pregnant with your child. ‘Have you eaten?’
    â€˜Yes—I had lunch, but don’t mind me if you haven’t.’
    The stilted conversation was going to make her scream, but what was the alternative? ‘Oh, incidentally, while I think of it, I’m having your baby’ didn’t seem quite the right opener!
    And anyway, she wasn’t past the danger point yet. A few more days, maybe weeks—perhaps then.
    She set a mug of tea down in front of him at the table, and finished making herself a sandwich. She was still starving, still eating anything she could lay her hands on—
    â€˜I thought you hated peanut butter?’
    Damn. Trust him to notice. The only time she’d eaten it had been when she was pregnant, and any second now he’d guess.
    â€˜It goes in phases,’ she said truthfully, and sat in a chair across the table and up from him, so she didn’t have to look straight at him, didn’t have to meet those searching blue eyes and risk blurting out the truth.
    He gave a