Heidi Rice - One Night, So Pregnant!

She’d signed up with Eva’s obstetrician and had her first appointment four days ago. She’d bought a stack of books on pregnancy and childbirth, and had been on the phone every morning to Eva to debate her ballooning bust size and the slight queasiness that contrary to everyone else she’d ever heard of only affected her in the afternoon. And she’d been to the pharmacy to stock up on enough pregnancy vitamins to fell a rhinoceros. She’d even lined up interviews with a series of hospitality firms and started putting together a killer portfolio of her recent events to wow their socks off if she got an interview.

And after a week of careful planning, and getting her life—her new life—into some semblance of order, she was convinced that she’d made the right decision. But it was her choice, and her baby, and she wanted to keep it that way. She wasn’t going to make the mistake of trying to drag Nate Graystone into that equation again, just because he had some spurious biological connection to her child.

Clearly, spending over a year dating a man who had the sex drive of a sloth had made her uniquely susceptible to a man with the libido of a rampant tiger, but she wasn’t going to give in to her hormones—or him—again.

She folded her arms over her waist and dampened the silly little blip in her heart rate as his gaze intensified. Let him think what he wanted. She needed to get over her reaction to this man. And fast. And flirting with him probably wasn’t the best way to go about it.

‘So what exactly did you come here for?’ she murmured when he didn’t say anything.

Suspicion shadowed his eyes.

‘I came to find out if you are really pregnant and if the child’s definitely mine.’

There was that if again, she thought resentfully. But she held onto her temper this time, determined not to say anything she would probably end up regretting.

She’d foolishly had monkey sex with Nate Graystone twice now, but a chemical reaction was not a relationship. He’d rejected her once and he’d rejected her child too—she wasn’t going to leave herself open to more of the same.

‘Why the sudden change of heart?’ she asked evasively. ‘You seemed fairly convinced I was a lying tart the last time we met.’

His brow creased, and the familiar cynicism flickered across his face. ‘I never said that.’

She put the coffee mug down. ‘I told you I was pregnant. You told me it wasn’t yours. What part of that didn’t I understand?’

‘I overreacted,’ he replied curtly.

‘That’s quite an understatement,’ she said. ‘But it still doesn’t answer my question. What made you change your mind and decide I might not be lying after all?’

‘I never said you were lying.’ The crease on his brow became a fissure. ‘Are you pregnant or not? And if you are, how sure are you the child is mine?’

Tess pushed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Did he really believe that the truth was all that mattered? That whether or not he was the father made up for the flippant response, the cold dismissal?

‘How would you react? If I told you that I am pregnant and the child’s definitely yours?’

‘I don’t know. Is that what you are telling me?’ he asked, his voice rising.

It was her turn to frown. ‘What do you mean, you don’t know?’

‘I mean, I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead. Now give me a straight answer, damn it.’

Her heart sank at his curt, frustrated tone and what it meant. He didn’t feel anything for this child. He was simply here out of some warped sense of duty. She’d given him a straight answer ten days ago and he hadn’t wanted to hear it then. And she doubted he wanted to hear it now.

If her child asked one day about its biological father, she could contact Nate again. But right here, right now, he didn’t want to be involved. And she didn’t want him there, if he didn’t want to be there, it was as simple as that, because a child could always tell if its father didn’t want it. She ought to know.

‘There isn’t a baby any more—is that straight enough for you?’

She’d expected him to look relieved, but instead he looked momentarily stunned. ‘Any more? Did you have an abortion?’

‘No,’ she said instinctively, and a little too hastily. ‘No, I…’ She struggled to regroup and get the lie back on track. ‘The test was faulty.’

‘But you took three tests? How could they all be faulty?’

When had she told him that? She swallowed, keeping her face as blank as possible—lying had never been one of her strong suits. ‘They weren’t faulty exactly. It’s called a false positive.’

‘I see,’ he said, the words loaded with scepticism. ‘So you’re definitely not pregnant? And you never were?’

‘No, I’m…’ The lie got stuck somewhere around her larynx, she gave a little cough, to force it out. ‘No, I’m definitely not pregnant. So you can leave now, and forget about me.’

He held her gaze, studying her with an intensity that made her want to squirm, then his focus dipped deliberately and zeroed in on her cleavage. Her breasts chose that precise moment to strain against the fabric of her T-shirt. She pulled her hands out of her pockets and tightened her arms across her chest, wishing she’d put on something looser, and a lot less revealing.

But as the seconds ticked past the irony of the situation hit her. First he didn’t believe her when she told him she was pregnant. And now he didn’t believe her when she said she wasn’t .

She might not know much about this guy, but one thing was for sure: he had some serious trust issues with women. He sure as hell had a trust issue with her.

And all right, he’d be correct in assuming she was lying now. But she was only doing it for the benefit of her baby. And for goodness’ sake, she was doing him a favour, letting him off a hook he’d made it abundantly clear he didn’t relish being caught on.

At long last he lifted his head. ‘Whatever happens, I won’t forget you, Tess.’ A flush climbed up her neck at his gruff words. ‘You’re kind of unforgettable.’

She tried to ignore the inappropriate pulse of heat, but then he cradled her cheek and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip and she had to force herself to shift away from his tantalising touch.

He walked to the door, and sent her one last penetrating look over his shoulder. As the door closed behind him she covered her belly with her palms, surprised to feel her knees shaking slightly.

Don’t be idiotic—you’ve done the only smart thing .

She had tons to concentrate on in the next few months, like having a healthy pregnancy, finding secure employment with better healthcare benefits and locating a much cheaper apartment before she outstayed her welcome with Nick and Eva.

A man who had her turning into an insatiable sex maniac every time she so much as caught a whiff of his scent would only help concentrate her into an emotional and physical wreck.

Nate settled in the driver’s seat of the Jeep, tugged the smart phone out of the back pocket of his trousers and keyed the words ‘false positive pregnancy test’ into the Internet browser. After scouring the relevant web pages, he then typed the words ‘pregnancy early signs’ into the search engine. Five minutes later, he switched the app off and tilted his head back against the seat, frustration making the sinews in his neck hurt.

What the hell had he been thinking having sex with her again?

He’d known it was a mistake, the second he’d touched the soft skin of her nape and slanted his lips across hers, but her gasp of surrender had sent the arrow of need soaring straight into his groin.

Tess Tremaine did something to him, something that sliced through all his self-control, until he was acting on autopilot, feeling instead of thinking, wanting instead of weighing up. And running solely on the endorphin rush of spectacular sex.

He adjusted his pants, discomforted by the memory of how his control had snapped so suddenly. One minute they’d been sniping at each other and the next they’d been going for it on her kitchen counter.

He rubbed his hands down his face, the frustration now warring with embarrassment and disbelief.

Get over it, Graystone .

He eased his head off the seat and stared down the street. Getting worked up about what an ass he’d been was getting him nowhere. This wasn’t about him, it wasn’t even about the sex they’d had, this was about Tess and her complete inability to give him a straight answer about anything. She’d lied about not being pregnant, he was sure of it. Because however volatile and contradictory and confusing and downright intoxicating the woman was, one thing was for absolute sure: unlike Marlena, she couldn’t lie worth a damn.

And he had a bad feeling he already knew the reason why she’d lied.

He glanced up at her block, curious now at the thought of the empty apartment and all those packing boxes. Where exactly was she moving to? Didn’t he have a right to know that? If he was the father of her child?

The picture of a child—his child—rose unbidden in his mind. He rubbed his palm against the tightening in his chest, swallowed down the tightening in his throat. What if she was planning to head back to Britain?

Picking his phone up, he stabbed in Walter Jensen’s office number.

He didn’t want to think about the baby. And he wasn’t going to, not until he absolutely had to. But he was through playing nice with Tess Tremaine. She was going to give him the truth and if that meant getting his attorney involved—and staying the hell away from confined spaces—so be it.

‘NATHANIEL, do you have any idea how complex the laws governing fathers’ rights are?’ Walter Jensen rested his forearms on his large maple-wood desk and sent Nate a look he’d hated ever since he had been twelve years old, and the family lawyer had explained to him in calm, measured tones that taking his father’s car for a joyride and getting picked up by the cops was not the smartest thing he’d ever done.

‘Any kind of court action could potentially take years.’ Walter paused to take a breath, his gruff paternal tone pulling Nate back into one of the lowest periods of his life. ‘And you don’t even know for sure that this baby is yours. Or even if it actually exists.’

Nate stood, the anger that had built overnight coursing back up his spine.

‘She lied to me about the pregnancy. And I don’t know where she’s living. I don’t care what my rights are, but I want the truth. I can’t just let this go. You know I can’t.’

Knowledge flashed in Walter’s pale eyes, the knowledge that had always remained unspoken between the two of them. The bitter taste of regret curdled Nate’s insides. Even in his sixties, Walter had a brilliant legal mind, sharp, insightful and analytical, and more importantly he was a good man. But Nate had never been able to trust him completely, because, like most of the adults he had known growing up, Walter had made a living keeping his father’s dirty little secrets safe.

‘Okay, calm down,’ Walter said, lifting his hands in a quelling motion.

Nate dropped back into his chair, embarrassed to realise he’d raised his voice.

‘This is what I suggest,’ Walter continued in the cool, dispassionate tones of a man well used to talking people down off an emotional ledge. ‘We ask Miss Tremaine in here, and we negotiate. If you’re willing to offer her a generous subsidy to take care of all her living expenses until the baby’s born—’