A Nine-Month Temptation

by Joanne Rock

  She arched her back so hard he almost stopped, but then the tremors swept through her, her sex pulsing around him with lush squeezes. It would have been so easy to let her release spur his. But he helped her ride out the sensation, giving her a moment to recover herself before he flipped her underneath him.

  She blinked up at him with dazed, passion-filled eyes, her bee-stung lips fuller than ever. Hunger for her surged all over again, the need to claim her a fierce mandate, as if it were written in his DNA.

  Holding her hips, he buried himself deep inside her. Over and over. Color rose in her cheeks, and her mouth worked soundlessly before she bit her lower lip. Roman quickly moved to kiss her, gently nipping and sucking on the fullness of her lower lip.

  Her fingernails sank into his shoulders, and something about that light sting, as primitive a claim as his own, was what sent him over the edge. The force of his body’s response was overpowering, and his hold on her tightened. He couldn’t get close enough, and he would have sworn in that moment she felt the same way, with her limbs wound around his neck and his waist, her breasts molded to his chest.

  Their shouts mingled, breaths huffing harshly in sync.

  His heart hammered in his chest like it needed out, but his senses slowly returned. Closing his eyes, he rolled to his side, bringing Sable with him. He tucked her close to his chest and drew a corner of the lightweight duvet over her, covering her from shoulder to knee. As their pulses slowed, he brushed her dark hair from her face, combing lightly through the strands with his fingers.

  She made a satisfied hum in her throat, a sound he wasn’t even sure she was aware of as she cuddled closer. Something about that soft note of contentment crawled into his consciousness, taunting him with all he could never give her.

  Did it matter that he wanted to provide for their child and give her a home when he couldn’t offer her the love and commitment he’d shared with his wife? Four bedrooms in one of the city’s most coveted apartments didn’t seem like much compared to the daily joys of a partner who could offer her love and commitment.

  If he couldn’t give her that, was it even fair of him to ask her to move in with him?

  A chill crept over him at the thought that he was being selfish to try to convince her to stay in New York for his convenience. So that he could know his child and help to raise him or her.

  He hated to think what she would be missing out on. Especially since she hadn’t been as fortunate as him in her first marriage. She hadn’t known the kind of deep and abiding love he’d shared with Annette, so it would be all the more cruel of him to expect her to live with him when he knew he couldn’t give her those things.

  Her soft, even breaths slowed, falling into the cadence of sleep. And Roman was grateful that she wasn’t awake to witness the churn of emotions he wrestled with now. Because whether or not it was fair of him to ask her to move in with him, he still wanted to. Needed to have his child and heir in close proximity.

  His only hope was that Sable savored her independence as much as he needed his. Maybe then, they could live together and raise a child together without anyone getting hurt.

  Any other alternative was unacceptable. He’d already lost too much to lay his heart on the line again.

  Ten

  Standing in front of her bedroom closet two days later, Sable still had no idea whether she should say yes to moving in with Roman or not. She stared at the calendar on her phone, where a reminder had just popped up about the twelve-week ultrasound appointment scheduled for the next day. She’d told Roman she’d get back to him with an answer by then, but she was still just as confused as ever.

  Maybe more so since the unforgettable night she’d spent in his bed.

  With a sigh, she tugged a few Zayn Designs sample dresses from the closet and began to pull the protective bags off the hangers. She was preparing for an impromptu social media photo shoot with her housemates. Blair and Tana had agreed to the idea as a creative group project, and Sable hoped it would give her an opportunity to tell her friends the news that she needed to move out of the house.

  Was she giving up on her dream of being a celebrity stylist too easily if she opted to go back home to Baton Rouge to have her baby? Or was it a smart move to relocate where she would have a more affordable lifestyle as well as the love and support of her family during a time of tremendous change? It might be easier to decide if her feelings for Roman weren’t so complicated. But the more time they spent together, the more she found to like about him.

  His obvious concern for the baby was extremely compelling, of course. But there were other things that called to her, like the way he put her in charge of where she wanted their relationship to go, never taking advantage of her obvious attraction to him. She liked that he championed her career dreams, reminding her of her goals outside of motherhood. As much as she craved the chance to be a parent, she recognized that her yearning was tangled up with her past. It was so difficult not to fear for this pregnancy every moment of every day. She was grateful to Roman for challenging her to look beyond this pregnancy to ensure she put a value on her work.

  The notes of an electric violin solo grew louder outside her bedroom door, warning her that music lover Tana was approaching.

  “You’re next in the makeup chair,” Tana called as she reached the fourth floor of their Brooklyn brownstone. A moment later, the petite actress stepped across Sable’s threshold dressed in black booty shorts and a worn T-shirt with a rainbow outlined in rhinestones. She wore red clip-in braids today, but her understated makeup showed off flawless skin. “Blair already did my face, but I drew the line at letting her touch my hair. Do you mind if I leave my braids in for the photo?”

  “Of course not.” Standing, Sable passed her the hangers with Marcel’s dresses before grabbing a pair of silver sandals for herself. “I like the idea of a photo of us all because we’d each look so different in the clothes.”

  Tana arched an eyebrow at her before heading toward the door to go downstairs. “So it’s fine that Blair will look like a Vogue cover while I rock more of a ‘Tinker Bell on an acid trip’ vibe?”

  Following Tana to the parlor, Sable laughed, grateful for the distraction from her worries about what to tell Roman and where to raise her baby. “Personally, I’d call it music festival glam. But that’s the beauty of using real people in social media images for the brand. Followers with all different aesthetics can see how the clothes could work for them.”

  They reached the parlor floor where Blair had two fishing tackle boxes open on a wooden sideboard between two windows overlooking the backyard. She had dragged one of the living room chairs to the window for better light. Blair was currently studying what looked like smudges of lipstick in various colors on the backs of her hands.

  “Cool. But don’t stop there,” Tana cautioned as she passed a cream-colored sheath dress to Blair. “You need more diversity in the Zayn Designs feed. You’ve done a good job with skin tones, but what about showcasing more kinds of figures? And people who are differently abled?”

  “You’re right.” Sable appreciated the feedback and tapped a note into her phone as she sat in the makeup chair by the window. “That’s important to Marcel, too. I’ll remind him we need samples in more sizes. And thank you both for doing this.”

  “Are you kidding?” Blair said, digging in one of the tackle boxes and pulling out a sleek black case containing a compact. “This is like grown-up playtime for me.”

  “Even though you do this every day for work?” Sable asked, curious to know more about her friends before life pulled them apart.

  Blair nodded as she swirled a brush through the powder inside the compact and then patted it onto Sable’s cheek. “I got into makeup because I always liked sprucing up my friends and making them feel pretty. But in the last few years, pursuing it as a profession, I don’t have as many opportunities to do faces just for fun. It’s nice n
ot to have an exacting client breathing down my neck telling me to erase someone’s freckles or fill in scars.”

  While Sable mused over that, Tana pulled her T-shirt off and slid one of the Zayn slip dresses over her head. As she wiggled the silk into place, she strode closer. “Is Lucas Deschamps one of those exacting bosses?”

  Blair’s mouth pulled into a frown before she answered, “Lucas and I have very different visions. He believes makeup should be like fashion, and you should introduce a new look each season with all of the brand supporting the look. I happen to like faces that tell a story, and think sometimes makeup should take a back seat to the face.”

  Sable and Tana exchanged a look at their friend’s uncharacteristically grim tone.

  “Maybe there’s a middle ground in there somewhere,” Tana suggested carefully before she pirouetted in her cream-colored slip dress. “And this is the most gorgeous outfit I’ve ever worn, by the way. You must get along well with your boss, Sable, for him to trust you with all these great clothes.”

  Blair glanced up from an eye shadow palette. “Was that your boss who picked you up outside the brownstone two weeks ago? I saw you get into an SUV with a really hot guy wearing shades that first day I toured the house with Cybil.”

  “A hot guy?” Tana leaned a hip on the makeup table. “Do tell.”

  This was it. The time had come to tell them about Roman and the baby. Nerves knocked around inside her, but she pressed ahead.

  “That wasn’t the designer. That was Roman Zayn, Marcel’s brother.” She felt her cheeks warm for no good reason. She wasn’t embarrassed by their relationship. “He handles the business end of the fashion house.”

  “But has he handled you?” Tana asked while Blair squealed with delight at the question.

  Sable struggled to find the right way to admit their relationship without making it sound completely inappropriate. “Any and all handling was mutual.”

  Blair stopped working on Sable’s face to gape at her. “I knew there was a hot vibe there when I saw you two together. I knew it.”

  “Is he the reason for the prenatal vitamins you left in the kitchen cupboard?” Tana pressed.

  “Oh no.” Sable dropped her head into her hands. “Did I honestly do that?”

  So much for trying to find a tactful way to share the news. Clearly her pregnancy brain was broadcasting the news for her without her knowing.

  “Seriously?” Blair knelt in front of her, forehead knit in concern as she rested a hand on Sable’s knee. “Are you really...expecting?”

  Deep breath. Her life would change forever once she said the words.

  “Yes. I’m twelve weeks along. And it’s a good thing. It’s just that it was totally unexpected and I’m having to make a lot of decisions about what to do next.” She’d done a half-hearted search for apartments in Baton Rouge, but she couldn’t see herself back there, raising her baby alone while her ex-husband lived nearby with his new wife and growing family.

  Blair sat on her heels, brushing aside her blond ponytail. “What kinds of decisions? Can we help?”

  Briefly, she outlined the pros and cons of Roman’s proposal that she move in with him versus returning to Louisiana. The biggest drawback of life in Baton Rouge, of course, would be watching her career dreams go up in smoke.

  Tana twirled one of her red clip-in braids around her finger. “Why wouldn’t you just stay here? I like babies.” She glanced over at Blair. “Chances are good that Blair likes babies.”

  Blair nodded vigorously in the affirmative at this statement. “We’ll help you. That way you can finish your internship, and go back to work when you’re ready. On your own terms.”

  Touched beyond measure at their kindness, Sable blinked away happy tears at the vision of remaining in the apartment. “As amazing as that sounds, I’m pretty sure Cybil will want me to leave the apartment if I’m not actively pursuing a career in one of the creative fields—”

  “But you are,” Tana argued, folding her arms, and speaking with a new fierceness. “The whole idea behind this apartment house was to support single women trying to get ahead in artistic careers. Well, guess what? Pregnancy is part of a woman’s life, and we’re going to support you through that until you can return to your work. If Cybil doesn’t like that, she can kick all of us to the curb.”

  Tana’s impassioned speech was such a surprise there was a moment of silence afterward. But Blair recovered first, giving it a slow clap that turned into full-fledged cheers and wolf whistles that made Tana roll her eyes.

  As for Sable, she was so overcome by the generosity of her new friends that she hardly knew what to say.

  “Thank you,” she finally said, recovering her voice even though there was still a lump in her throat. “Without a doubt, that’s the coolest, sweetest offer anyone has ever made me.” She stood up and surprised Tana with a hug. Then, before she could offer one to Blair, Blair joined them for a group hug.

  The gift of friends having her back—very literally at the moment—provided her a much-needed confidence boost.

  “Cybil won’t object to this, by the way,” Blair said as they broke apart. “She might use it as publicity when she goes to search for the next round of candidates when we move out—a way to show off girl power in action—but she wouldn’t try to kick you out of the building just because you’re pregnant.”

  “You don’t think so?” Sable hadn’t reread all the fine print on the contract she’d signed when she moved in, but had just assumed it would be a huge imposition on the other women in the house to have a baby take up residence.

  But Tana and Blair seemed adamant. Excited, even.

  “Not a chance.” Blair gestured to the makeup chair, wordlessly inviting Sable to sit back down. “We spoke for a long time the day she gave me the tour of the house, and she reminisced about her days of living in the Barbizon Hotel. She made the closest friendships of her life there, and that’s what she hoped to foster here, too. She’ll think this is cool.”

  “What will Lucas think?” Tana pondered aloud, in a laughably obvious ploy to get a rise out of Blair.

  Blair took the bait without a second thought. “Like everything else in life, he’ll probably think he could do it better, faster and more efficiently,” she snapped. “But clearly, no one cares what he thinks.”

  “Clearly.” Tana winked at Sable before her expression turned serious. “The bigger question is what Roman will say once he knows he’s lost his leverage to get you to move in with him.”

  Leverage?

  Her friend’s more cynical view of Roman’s motives troubled her. Sable had viewed his offer as generous. But even he had reminded her that by having his child, she was bringing more to the equation than he was. Was it possible that he was trying to use his wealth and power to maneuver her into a position that suited him best?

  Certainly. But she couldn’t fault him when he didn’t have to make the offer to begin with. He could have simply sent her child support and walked away. She fully believed that he wanted to be a part of this baby’s life.

  And a small part of her even felt a twinge of guilt that he wouldn’t have as much time with their infant if she accepted the offer to remain in the brownstone. But bottom line, she needed to make a decision that wasn’t just good for the baby, but for herself, too.

  “I don’t know what Roman will say,” Sable finally mused aloud, after Tana had moved off to set up the backdrop for the group photo.

  Blair heard her, though, and paused between coats of mascara to look into Sable’s eyes.

  “If he’s a good man, he’ll put the mother of his child first,” Blair told her firmly. “He’ll understand that you need to live where you’re most comfortable.”

  Sable agreed in theory. But she still felt a knot in her chest at the thought of telling Roman her potential new plan. Because no matter how much sense it made, sh
e recognized how the separation from his baby would hurt him.

  She would be lying if she pretended that it wouldn’t affect her, too. But that was what happened when you developed feelings for someone—their pain was yours.

  And that was when she understood the truth. Despite her best intentions, she was falling for Roman. Hard. What a sad, hurtful moment to realize how close she was to loving a man who could never return those feelings.

  * * *

  Seated in the courtyard of a vacant Broome Street storefront the next day, Roman stole a glance at his watch to make sure he budgeted himself enough time to get uptown for Sable’s ultrasound appointment. His brother and their Realtor were still inside the building, reviewing the space and making notes on how it could work for a Zayn Designs flagship store.

  Roman had set up the showing since he’d been tracking Manhattan real estate closely over the last two weeks, and he’d seen the SoHo location come on the market the night before. And while he absolutely wanted to secure a prime storefront for Zayn Designs, his motive might have also been driven by a need to get back in his brother’s good graces after Marcel’s reaction to the news that Sable was expecting Roman’s baby.

  Scrolling through his phone while he waited for Marcel to finish up, Roman heard Marcel’s damning words in his head.

  Of all the women in this city, you had to take up with the best stylist I have? A woman who has single-handedly tripled the Zayn social media outreach when that wasn’t even in her job description?

  Roman hadn’t been aware of the impact she’d had on the brand. Not that it would have made a difference since his attraction to Sable wasn’t something he could have ignored. But Marcel had taken it as a personal affront that Roman had initiated a relationship with someone in their employ. Even worse, Marcel had anticipated what a baby would mean for Sable’s hours on the job, even though Roman hadn’t asked him to consider lightening her schedule. Marcel had warned Roman that he would need Sable to meet her work obligations.