Practice Makes Pregnant

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Practice Makes Pregnant Page 10

by Lois Faye Dyer


  “I thought we could use a break after the last few weeks. Can you get away for a week?”

  Allison shook her head. “I have a class on Tuesday night that I can’t possibly miss.”

  “What about Thursday night? Friday?”

  “My classes are on Monday and Tuesday nights, so the rest of the week is free.”

  “Great, then we can leave after the ceremony on Thursday and return Monday morning.”

  Allison wanted to refuse, but something in his eyes made her pause. “All right.” The swift flare of satisfaction in his dark gaze stirred an urge to run, far and fast. She rose from the chair and carefully returned the giant teddy bear to his former seat before she moved toward the door and the hallway beyond. “If a moving company is going to pack and move me next week, I have a lot of things to take care of at my apartment. I should go home and get started.”

  He followed her down the hall and out the door, her senses prickling with anticipation. But he didn’t take her arm, didn’t take the opportunity to kiss her again while they were alone in his apartment. He fairly radiated a leashed sensual energy that had her on edge as he stalked behind her and into the elevator, but he kept a careful twelve inches between their bodies.

  By the time they reached her apartment, Allison was strung so taut with expectation that she was nearly quivering. Her hands trembled and she fumbled with the key, frustrated when she missed the lock.

  “Here, let me.”

  Jorge reached around her and took the key from her unresisting hand, slipping it into the lock to open the door. She stepped over the threshold and turned, holding the edge of the door. His gaze was brooding, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets, the bomber jacket unbuttoned and open over his chest.

  “Do you want me to come in and help you study?”

  She shook her head. “Thanks, Jorge, but I think I’ll take a short nap and then make a list for Zoe so she can organize the movers next weekend.”

  “All right.” His gaze searched her face, lingering on her mouth. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Sure.”

  “Allison…”

  “Yes?”

  “Nothing. I’ll call.”

  He turned and strode down the hall. Seconds later Allison heard his boots thudding against the stair treads as he descended. Bewildered, she closed the door, slipped out of her coat and put it away.

  He didn’t kiss me goodbye.

  Though she dreaded his kisses—because she lost control—as much as she craved them for their hot addictive pleasure, she felt oddly bereft that he’d left without kissing her. It occurred to her to wonder if he was already tired of her.

  “Stop it,” she muttered aloud, thrusting her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “This isn’t a love match. Get over it.”

  Determinedly she marched into the kitchen to find a pen and pad of paper for list making. But a tiny part of her wept for the likelihood that her soon-to-be husband didn’t love her, and could already be tiring of her uncertainty and wildly vacillating emotions.

  The days flew by, so packed with her busy schedule at work, studying, organizing her apartment into what could be moved to Jorge’s apartment and what should go into storage, that Allison barely had a moment to fret over whether Jorge would ever grow to care for her. Fortunately, it also left little time for her to analyze her own feelings toward Jorge.

  Thursday morning dawned bright, cold and clear. Allison woke early and, unable to go back to sleep, rose to pack her bag for the weekend. Zoe knocked on her door at ten-thirty sharp.

  “Hi-ya.” She breezed past Allison into the apartment and turned to inspect her. “You aren’t dressed.”

  Allison glanced down at her jeans and T-shirt, her feet comfortable in white socks. “I know. I’m finishing packing a box of kitchen things.” She walked into the kitchen. “My refrigerator is almost empty, but will you take the orange juice and milk?”

  Zoe followed her, her gaze skimming the packed cardboard boxes stacked neatly in the tiny kitchen. “You’ve been busy,” she commented.

  “I woke up at five this morning and couldn’t go back to sleep,” Allison confessed. She scanned the kitchen and pulled open cupboard doors and drawers to verify that they were empty, then glanced at the clock. “I think it’s time to get dressed.”

  “Yes.” Zoe arched a brow and grinned at her. “From the state of your kitchen, I’d say you’ve put it off as long as you can.”

  Allison’s nerves eased and she laughed ruefully. “At least packing kept me busy and kept my mind off the wedding.”

  “Are you horribly nervous?” Zoe followed her into the bedroom and perched on the bed to watch Allison pull open a dresser drawer and remove a cream-colored satin bra and panties edged with deep bands of delicate lace. “Because you can still change your mind.”

  Allison pushed the drawer closed. “I know.” She met Zoe’s worried gaze with relative calm. “I won’t deny that knowing I’m marrying today terrifies me, but I’m convinced that this is the best thing for my baby. And Jorge seems as committed as I am to making a good life for our child.” She drew a deep breath and managed a smile. “So, I’m getting married.”

  “All-righty, then.” Zoe waved her toward the bathroom. “Jump in the shower. We’ve barely got enough time to do your hair, make sure your makeup is perfect, and get you dressed. Scoot. Hurry.”

  Allison hurried. Having Zoe’s bubbly personality to occupy her mind was a godsend. The butterflies in her stomach didn’t return to take up residence until the car Jorge had sent to pick up Zoe and her dropped them at the courthouse.

  She managed to ignore those butterflies until she and Zoe were shown into the anteroom of the Judge’s chambers. Both women slipped out of their coats and used the mirror above a bookcase to check their hair and makeup.

  “Are you sure I look okay?” Allison smoothed her palm down the lightweight wool cream skirt. The suit had a waist-length jacket, the whole image tasteful and chic. The silk sweater beneath the jacket hugged her curves, the square neckline revealing the beginning swell of breasts and the valley between. With the jacket buttoned, the matching sweater was unremarkable, but without the jacket, it was blatantly sexy and very different from her usual tailored businesswear. A matching handbag and pumps had been delivered with the suit. Allison wasn’t entirely comfortable with knowing that Jorge had bought her clothing, especially since the ensemble reminded her of the very glamorous black evening gown she’d worn the first time they met. Did he still see her this way? Sophisticated and sexy? Even though she was pregnant?

  “You look absolutely fabulous,” Zoe said promptly. “I think these are for you.”

  Allison turned from the mirror to find Zoe holding out a bouquet of dark-red and white roses, creamy lilies and lacy greenery, tied with a deep-red satin ribbon.

  “Oh, they’re lovely.” Tears welled up as Allison took the bouquet and brushed her lips against the cool petals, breathing in their sweet fragrance. “Where did you get them?”

  “On the table.” Zoe pointed to a small table just inside the door leading to the judge’s chambers. “There’s one for me, too. It seems your Jorge thought of everything.”

  “He has, hasn’t he?” Allison felt a small stab of guilt that she’d allowed him to arrange the entire wedding.

  A soft rap sounded on the door panels, and a second later a young woman eased open the door to peer in.

  “Miss Baker?” she queried, her gaze admiring as she smiled at the two women. “Judge Maddock is ready for you whenever you’re ready to begin.”

  Allison drew a deep breath, and her gaze met Zoe’s before she nodded. “Is Jorge here?”

  “Yes, he’s with the judge.”

  Allison was immensely grateful for Zoe’s supportive presence at her elbow and slightly behind her as she entered the judge’s chambers.

  Jorge was across the room, talking to the judge and another man, his back to her.

  “Ah, here’s the bride.” The wh
ite-haired man in black robes looked over Jorge’s shoulder and smiled warmly.

  Jorge immediately turned and went perfectly still. Allison’s steps faltered as his gaze ran swiftly over her, his eyes dark and hot as they met hers once more. Then he strode across the room and took her hand, tucking her arm through his and covering her fingers with his palm, tight against the fine wool of his suit sleeve.

  “Are you okay?” he bent his head to murmur, his lips brushing her ear.

  She shivered in reaction, heat flashing swiftly through her veins.

  “Yes,” she managed. “I’m fine.”

  “Ready to do this?”

  She looked up at him, her gaze searching his. The hot intensity was gone from his eyes, replaced by reassurance.

  “Yes.” She drew a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

  “Good.” He glanced up and smiled at Zoe. “You must be Zoe. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Zoe took his outstretched hand, her narrowed gaze searching his face as they shook hands. Whatever she found there evidently satisfied her, for she nodded, her features softening as she smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, as well.”

  “Let me introduce you both to my friends.” Keeping Allison’s arm through his, he took Zoe’s elbow with his free hand and drew the two across the room. “Allison, Zoe, I’d like you both to meet Judge Maddock, who’ll be performing the ceremony.”

  Allison and Zoe both exchanged murmured greetings with the Judge.

  “And this is Ross Daly. He’s acting as my best man. Ross, this is Allison and her friend Zoe Armbruster.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Zoe, and especially you, Allison. My wife is out of town and couldn’t be here today but she asked me to convey her apologies as well as her congratulations. She’s looking forward to having you and Jorge over for dinner the moment you have a free evening.”

  Allison had seen television interviews and newspaper photos of the city’s district attorney, but he was much taller in person, well over six feet, and radiated energy. He and Jorge shared that sense of leashed power and keen intelligence. He also had the ability to make her feel safe, a quality he shared with Jorge. She didn’t stop to wonder why two such compelling men didn’t seem threatening. Instead, she felt a rush of gratitude for his friendly support.

  “How lovely of her to invite us. Please tell her that I hope we can join you soon.”

  The sweet, warm smile she gave Ross rocked Jorge. This was the Allison he’d only caught brief glimpses of since the night they spent together. But those flashes were enough to convince him that the warm, passionate women he’d met at the fund-raiser was hiding beneath the cautious exterior she showed to the world. He was determined to make her smile like this all the time.

  “Well then, shall we get started?” Judge Maddock took a slim, leather-bound book from his assistant. “If you’ll stand here, Jorge, with Allison beside you. Yes, that’s good. And you on the groom’s right, Ross, while you stand on the far side of the bride, Ms. Armbruster.” The four shifted positions, lining up in front of him and he nodded. “Excellent. Let us begin.”

  Allison fought to keep the trembling that shook her on the inside from showing on the outside. Last-minute nerves threatened her equilibrium. Was she doing the right thing? Should she take more time to decide if she really wanted to do this?

  Jorge’s fingers threaded through hers, warm and strong, immeasurably comforting, and her nerves steadied, the butterflies in her stomach ceasing their fluttering.

  The judge’s words were a blur, until Zoe reached out and took the bride’s bouquet from her hand and Jorge turned to face her, taking both her hands in his.

  “Repeat after me,” the judge said. “I, Jorge Alejandro Perez…”

  Jorge’s gaze remained on her while he repeated the solemn vows. Then Ross handed him a ring and he slipped it on her hand. The platinum wedding band held six large diamonds and was followed by an exquisitely cut marquis diamond engagement ring. The center stone was banded on each side by three diamonds the same size as those on the wedding band. Allison’s soft gasp was barely audible, but Jorge heard it. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the rings against her hand, then turned her hand over to press a kiss to her palm.

  Tears burned, and it was all Allison could do not to cry. Her gaze searched his, bewildered. This was a set of wedding rings that should be given by a man to a cherished bride, not to a woman whom his own sense of honor and responsibility forced him to marry.

  She would have protested, but it was too late. The judge was quoting her vows, and she repeated them, overwhelmed by the solemnity of the occasion.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have a ring for you,” she murmured, but Zoe interrupted before Jorge could respond, reaching around her to tuck a heavy platinum men’s wedding band into her hand. Numbly Allison took it, slipping it over the knuckle of his third finger, left hand. She looked up, and Jorge’s fingers tightened over hers as he drew her closer. She caught only a glimpse of fierce black eyes before he wrapped his arms around her and his mouth closed over hers.

  The kiss was gentle, his mouth cherishing hers for long moments, and the tears that had trembled on her eyelashes spilled over to trail down her cheeks. When he lifted his head at last, he smoothed the dampness with his thumb and smiled tenderly.

  “Hey, no tears. You’re not supposed to be crying.”

  “I know.” She stepped back, brushing at the tears. “I seem to be crying at every little thing lately. I’m happy, really I am.”

  Chapter Six

  Allison fell asleep before the Jag drove out of New York City. The nearly sleepless night, added to the weariness induced by the baby’s impact on her body, kept her asleep until the car stopped, the engine was switched off and Jorge shook her gently awake.

  “Allison. Allison?”

  “Mmm.” Disoriented, she opened sleepy eyes to find him outside the car, the passenger door open as he leaned across her to unlatch her seat belt. “Where are we?”

  “At the cabin.” Jorge deftly eased the seat belt away and slipped his arms beneath her to pick her up, neatly swinging her clear of the car and nudging the door closed with his hip.

  “I slept the entire trip?” Allison was dismayed.

  “Yes. You must have been exhausted. Have you been sleeping at night?”

  “Not last night,” she confessed, lifting her head from his shoulder to look about them. Red and gold leaves littered the ground and crunched beneath his shoes as he carried her along the path between car and porch. He climbed the shallow, wide steps to the front door and, without releasing her, slipped the key into the lock and pushed the door inward.

  He carried her inside and kicked the door shut.

  “Oh, this is lovely.” Allison’s gaze moved over the room. A river-rock fireplace took up one wall, a comfortable upholstered blue sofa, love seat and matching armchair ranged in front of the hearth. On each side of the fireplace, long windows overlooked the woods behind the house. Blue drapes framed the glass panes, echoing the deep blue of sofa and pillows. A small grand piano took up one corner, its gleaming black surface holding a collection of photos in silver frames that were all sizes. More family photos hung on the wall behind the piano, side by side with a beautiful old oil painting of woods in winter. “When you told me that we were going to a cabin in the woods, I thought you meant a rustic little getaway. This is a beautiful home.”

  Jorge grinned. “Ross and Sarah started out with drawings for a little cabin in the woods, but they fell in love with the land and decided to build a bigger, more permanent home here. They spend several months here every year. The kids are crazy about it. They’d rather come here than go to Disneyland.”

  “I don’t blame them.”

  Jorge walked across the living room and let Allison peek into the kitchen. “I called the local family that takes care of the cabin for Ross, and they promised to stock the refrigerator and fill the wood box.”

  He turned and retraced his st
eps, crossing the living room to stride down the hallway past two doors before he stopped at the end of the hall.

  “This is the master bedroom. There’s a bathroom through there.” He indicated a door at the far side of the room, banked on each side by closet doors, before crossing the wood floors to the bed. He paused and looked down at her, his gaze searching her features, noting the faint circles that underlined her eyes despite her nap in the car. “Why don’t you rest while I unload the car.”

  “But I slept through the entire drive here,” Allison protested. “And it was terribly rude of me. I’m sorry, I just can’t seem to stay awake for long.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I know the last week has been busy for you, add that to the toll the baby is taking on your energy and you’ve got good reason to feel tired.”

  She eyed him solemnly. “You’re being very nice to me.”

  He quirked an eyebrow, a slow smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “I’ve got an ulterior motive.”

  “Really?” Allison’s heart raced. “And what is that?”

  “I’m a lousy cook, and I’m hoping that if you get lots of rest, you’ll have the energy to help me make dinner.”

  Allison laughed. His answer was so far removed from the one she’d been expecting that it caught her completely off guard.

  “I think I can manage that.”

  “Good.” He swung her to her feet next to the bed and leaned over to tug the pillow free and sweep back the heavy silk spread, blanket and sheet. He finished and looked at her, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe. “Want some help getting out of that suit?”

  “No. Thank you.” She felt heat move up her throat and cheeks as his gaze returned to hers, his dark eyes heavy-lidded and heated. “I think I can manage.”

  “I’m sure you can. That’s not what I asked.” His gaze was wry. “But we’ll pick this up later.” He bent and pressed a quick hard kiss to her mouth. “Sleep well, angel.”

  Before Allison could respond, he was gone, the door closing quietly behind him. Allison didn’t know if she was glad that he didn’t press her, or not. She craved physical contact with him, her body and heart responding every time he touched her. The feeling constantly surprised her, for she’d avoided men completely since that night when she was seventeen and had attended an award after-party with her parents. Dressed in a designer gown that made her look much older than her years, she was starry-eyed and elated when a rising young actor that she’d dreamed about for months went out of his way to charm her. With too much alcohol in his system, he’d lured her into a private room, seduced and then forced her when she’d tried to stop him. Devastated, she was further traumatized when she later learned that he’d only been attentive to her because he wanted a part in her father’s next production.

 

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