One Night, So Pregnant!

by Heidi Rice

  He led her across the flagstone porch and then around the back of the building, to a charming entrance framed by bougainvillea vines.

  ‘Mano used to be my grandfather’s head gardener.’ He pushed open the door, to reveal a bright airy kitchen with an array of shiny new appliances. A drop-leaf table stood by the large picture window that afforded a spectacular view across the cliffs towards the ocean.

  ‘Used to be?’

  ‘He’s the property’s caretaker now.’ Taking a heavy crystal beaker out of a glass-fronted cabinet, he turned on the tap and let the water run for a moment, before filling it.

  ‘He lives on the property?’ she asked, careful to make sure her fingers didn’t touch his as she took the chilled glass of water.

  ‘Not on the property, no.’ Nate leant against the kitchen counter, crossed his arms over his chest and watched her. ‘We’re alone.’

  Tess took a hasty gulp of the icy water, but it didn’t do a thing to stop the burning in her chest. ‘Until your friend gets here.’

  ‘He’ll be a good half-hour.’

  Heat surged, his implication clear—they’d managed to do quite a bit in a lot less time than thirty minutes before now.

  She placed the glass on the table, pleased when she managed not to spill a drop. But as she faced him she decided there was no point in being coy. Not with this man.

  All he had to do was look at her and her breasts grew heavy and even more sensitive. Her eyes dipped to the bunch of muscle displayed by black cotton. The memory of his naked chest, lightly dusted with hair, flashed like fire in her mind.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s a little unwise for us to do this again?’ she said.

  He unhooked his arms, braced his hands on the countertop. ‘Maybe. But that doesn’t solve our problem.’

  ‘What problem?’ she asked, her heartbeat skittering into her throat. Okay, maybe coy wasn’t completely out of the question.

  ‘I want you. A lot. And after your guppy impersonation by the pool, I know the feeling’s mutual.’

  ‘Busted,’ she murmured. Why even attempt to deny it? ‘But sex will make a difficult situation impossible,’ she said breathlessly, knowing she was arguing with herself as much as him.

  ‘Possibly.’ He stepped towards her, and she inhaled the tantalising scent of him—pine soap and chlorine. ‘Or it could simplify it.’

  She raised her arms, intending to ward him off, but then he settled his hands on her hips, dragged her against him. And she could feel his need, the thick ridge of his arousal straining against worn denim more persuasive than any words.

  She braced her forearms against his chest. ‘How?’ she asked, trying to recall all the reasons why this was a really bad idea.

  ‘We need to get to know each other,’ he murmured, dipping his head, his tongue touching her ear lobe. ‘And sex will make that process faster and more fun.’

  Oh, please. Seriously?

  Her breath shuddered out. His logic was ridiculous, and she knew it, but she still couldn’t stop herself from clarifying. ‘Is this a friends-with-benefits scenario? Because they never work.’

  ‘Who says?’ he demanded, then bent to suck the throbbing pulse in her neck. Even though she knew she was right and he was wrong, the delicious wave of heat shimmering through her nerve endings seemed to contradict her.

  ‘I do,’ she said weakly, her arms draping over broad shoulders as she angled her head back to give him more access. ‘Or at least I think I do.’

  Was friends with benefits really guaranteed to be a complete disaster? She’d spent her teens having needy, furtive and mostly awful sex with guys she hadn’t even wanted to remember the morning after, and all of her twenties paying penance for that by having no sex at all, or duty sex with a guy she thought she ought to like. As Nate’s lips continued to explore, sending heat curling down to her core, suddenly friends with benefits began to sound like a winning proposition.

  If nothing else, Nate Graystone was a guaranteed good time. She’d never met a man before who turned her on just by breathing, and had that focused, forceful approach to sex that left absolutely nothing up to chance.

  He gave a strained laugh, then hoisted her onto the table top with remarkable ease. She grasped hold of his upper arms to balance herself, and felt the flex of his biceps. Her fingers caressed, loving the texture of strength and solidity. Spreading her thighs wide, he wedged himself between them, his arousal hard and unyielding through the denim. ‘There’s no harm in giving it a shot,’ he replied. ‘Just to be sure.’

  He lowered his head, nipped at the sensitive skin under her ear, and her soft sob echoed off the kitchen’s hard surfaces as the rush of sensation charged through her system.

  ‘But what about the baby?’ she groaned, straining to stay focused as all her objections burned away in the rush of need.

  His lips ceased their exploration, and he straightened. The flare of arousal had turned the blue of his irises to a thin rim around the black, but his hands slid away.

  His gaze dropped to her midriff, and lingered, his jaw tensing. ‘What’s the deal? When you’re pregnant? Is it safe to do it?’

  ‘That’s not what I...’ she began, because she hadn’t meant the question that literally. But seeing the concern etched on his brow, she hesitated.

  What she had meant was that they ought to consider the long-term implications of sleeping together in the short-term, and what impact that might have on their relationship when the baby came. They needed time, and space, to consider that and make some ground rules—and if he started touching her again, they weren’t going to get it. She’d never been great at deferred gratification—and where Nate was concerned, she was pants at it.

  But the truth was, he also had a point. She was pretty sure sex was okay during pregnancy. She couldn’t imagine Eva denying herself for nine solid months and not mentioning it. But Tess hadn’t asked the obstetrician about it, specifically, because she hadn’t thought there was any need. And she probably should have, especially now, after their last frantic coupling on the kitchen counter.

  ‘I suppose I should double check with Dr Hillier,’ she said tentatively, a little ashamed that he’d considered the risk before she had. ‘Don’t you think?’

  His gaze fixed on her belly for several beats, then his forehead lowered to hers. ‘Yeah, I guess so,’ he said, letting out a long sigh. ‘We better not risk it till you know for sure.’

  The reluctant agreement had a burst of emotion welling up inside her. She lifted her hand, the sudden tenderness, the need to caress the soft waves of dark hair, overwhelming—but then a car horn blasted outside and she snatched her hand back, the feeling of connection shattered.

  His head lifted and she slipped the offending hand under her bottom, grateful that he hadn’t spotted it hovering over him.

  ‘That’ll be Zane.’ A crooked smile curved his lips. ‘He must have broken the speed limit to get down here so fast.’

  She climbed off the table, feeling awkward and hideously exposed by the tight feeling in her chest as he held the kitchen door open for her.

  Exactly how needy and pathetic was she? To believe she was cherished, or that he might cherish her child, because he’d shown a bit of restraint when she’d asked him to?

  She straightened as they walked out into the sunshine, mindful of the warm, possessive hand pressed to the small of her back.

  She didn’t need him. She could do this on her own. And any show of consideration from him wasn’t going to change that. Because she couldn’t let herself rely on it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ZANE MONTOYA wasn’t good-looking, Tess decided, he was nothing short of spectacular. His laid-back personality a perfect complement to the twinkle of wickedness in his pure blue eyes. As he and Nate huddled together under the hood of her car and talked in hushed, not-particularly-promising tones, a beam of sunlight pierced through a cloud and gave Zane’s jet-black hair a bluish glow as if spotlighting his perfection. His lean
ly muscled physique, lightly olive-toned skin and the sort of dashing, model-perfect features that could sell a gallon of designer aftershave with a single glance were just overkill.

  Tess hummed appreciatively as he bent over further to unscrew some gizmo and she gave his muscular backside a thorough inspection. Then heaved out a sigh of dismay.

  Zane Montoya was a walking, talking, female fantasy. The sort of guy that a couple of months ago would have made her stop and stare... And quite possibly drool, a little. But right now, he wasn’t doing a thing for her.

  Her gaze lifted from Zane’s stupendous but completely ineffectual butt to find Nate standing behind his friend and glaring at her—her heart leapt up and galloped into her ribcage like a greyhound racing after a hare.

  Nate yanked a hand out of his pocket and, taking two fingers, pointed at her eyes, jerked the fingers towards his friend’s backside and wagged one in front of his own nose. Then he mouthed what looked like, ‘Stop drooling.’

  Patting her chest like a woman about to swoon, she fluttered her eyelashes outrageously and did her very best impersonation of a guppy. But even as her teasing got the desired effect and his brows fused together in a warning glare her heart wasn’t in it—because of one horrifying discovery. She hadn’t just been susceptible to Nate’s industrial-strength sex appeal because of her recent sexual drought with Dan and the hormonal effects of her pregnancy—as she had conveniently assumed. Her attraction to him was much more disturbing than that.

  If she couldn’t get excited about a guy like Zane—who could hotwire a woman’s hormones from five hundred paces—who the heck could she get excited about? Nate Graystone had ruined her for other men!

  This was much worse than she’d thought. And meant she would have to give a lot more consideration to having sex with him again. She’d never been this obsessed before, even as a hormone-charged teen determined to be as wild as necessary to get her father to notice her. She’d always known exactly what she was doing. Had had complete control over the flings she’d had. But now that feeling of superiority, of control was gone, she’d morphed into a sexual virago bound to only one man. What would she do if Nate found out? That she wanted him that much? How vulnerable would that make her?

  He’d said he wanted her too. That he wanted her a lot. But did he want her to the extent that she wanted him? Forsaking all others, so to speak? She doubted it. Because she had always known that while men had found her sexy and way too available in her misspent teens, and a suitable diversion in her twenties, not one of them had ever wanted to keep her around.

  Even her own father had cast her aside eventually.

  Tess’s gaze drifted back to Nate. Or more specifically to Nate’s mouth-watering backside as he leant under the car’s bonnet discussing its innards with his friend. Her heart rate shot back up as she studied the faded denim stretched across the tight orbs of muscle. Her gaze zeroed in on the hint of black cotton where his T-shirt rose up and his boxer briefs peeked out above the low-slung waistband of his jeans.

  She yearned to brush her thumb under the elasticated band and trace the indent of his spine down to his coccyx and beyond.

  Her pulse stuttered as she realised that the safety of the baby and their future association weren’t the only things she needed to worry about before she considered getting up close and intimate with Nate Graystone again.

  * * *

  ‘Are you sure Zane has a spare car and he won’t mind me borrowing it for that amount of time? He seemed sort of surprised when you suggested it.’

  Nate glanced at Tess as they took another bend at a smooth fifty. He eased his foot off the gas. There was no rush to get back to the city, and he liked having her in the passenger seat of the Jeep—even if her presence wasn’t exactly relaxing.

  The jasmine of her perfume covered the scent of new leather that usually permeated the vehicle, and had his pulse thumping, but the sleepy tone of her voice, her drooping eyelids and the hand curled loosely over her waist—which reminded him why she was so exhausted—kept the effect she had on him on a tight leash, for once.

  Down, boy.

  ‘I told you, Zane collects cars,’ he replied, trying to remember exactly what he had told her. ‘So he’s got a couple spare.’ Or he would have once Nate had given him the money to cover the cost from the dealer. ‘You need a loaner so you might as well use one of his.’

  She studied him, curling into the seat, and sending another waft of jasmine towards him. ‘Which still doesn’t explain why he looked so surprised when you suggested it.’

  Zane had looked surprised because he’d had no idea what Nate was talking about. But luckily it had only taken a steely nod for him to catch on. Zane and he had spent enough of their childhood arguing their way out of trouble together to be almost psychic when it came to watching each other’s backs. Getting him to offer to lend Tess an as-yet unpurchased car had been a cinch. A lot more of a cinch than getting Tess to accept it. ‘We’re buddies. If it was a problem he would have said so. He didn’t.’

  The frown on her forehead smoothed out. ‘Well, it was very generous of him. And it’s got me out of a major fix. Maybe I could organise an event for free for him. As a thank you. Does he do any hospitality events with his detective firm? He must do.’

  ‘You’ve thanked him enough already,’ he cut in, maybe a little too harshly, as his fingers fisted on the gear shift. ‘It’s not that big a deal.’

  Tess gave a throaty giggle. ‘Why, Mr Graystone, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were jealous.’

  ‘I saw you admiring his butt!’ he remarked, but exasperation was already giving way to amusement. Yes, he’d caught her looking at Zane’s butt, but there’d been none of the dazed wonder he’d feared. If anything Tess had seemed remarkably subdued with his friend, and there hadn’t been a drop of drool in sight. Which was very good news, because she was his, or she soon would be, for a short while at least.

  ‘Right after you’d had your hands on mine,’ he continued and grinned as he glanced her way and saw her grin back, the secret acknowledgement a new boost to his ego, and his arousal. ‘I’m not jealous. I’m amazed at your stamina.’

  ‘I wasn’t admiring his butt,’ she said drowsily. ‘I was comparing your assets.’

  ‘Damn, well that makes me feel so much better.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Yours weren’t found wanting,’ she replied, the cheeky little chuckle doing weird things to his heart rate. ‘One thing I did notice, though, you two have the exact same colour eyes.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Your eyes,’ she repeated. ‘It’s almost as if you were related.’

  The offhand comment had his body stiffening and the amusement leaching away. ‘It must have been a trick of the sunlight,’ he said dully. How had she noticed that so easily, when hardly anyone else ever did? Apart from their height and general build, the shade of blue in their irises was the only telltale sign. The one thing he’d latched onto so heavily as a kid.

  ‘No, it wasn’t,’ she said easily, oblivious to the censure in his tone. ‘I noticed it in the cottage too, when we were out of the sunlight. It’s a really striking shade of blue. And that dark rim around the iris.’ She gave a huge yawn. ‘So you’re not related, then?’

  ‘Of course not. Zane’s Mexican-American,’ he said, desperation making sweat slick his brow. He stabbed the button to turn up the air conditioner, but the cooling air only made the sweat clammy.

  ‘Surely Zane has some anglo blood, with blue eyes. It’s a recessive gene, isn’t it?’

  ‘What?’ he snapped, unable to hide the hint of panic.

  ‘It’s a recessive gene—it means either he has to have a parent with blue eyes or a—’

  ‘Why are you so interested in Zane?’ he cut in, trying to shut her up.

  ‘I’m not interested in Zane,’ she said carefully. ‘I already passed the drool test, remember?’ He could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t make his insides settle. All
he could feel was the pain in his chest, from the guilt and regret and shame that had haunted his childhood, and nearly destroyed the friendship that he had relied on his whole adult life. ‘Good, then let’s stop talking about this.’ But to his horror, his voice came out on a croak.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Tess asked, the drowsiness gone from her voice. ‘Why are you upset?’

  ‘Nothing’s the matter.’ Or it wouldn’t be once she dropped this. He kept his gaze fixed on the road.

  ‘Stop the car, Nate.’

  ‘What? Why?’ His gaze darted to her waistline. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine. Just stop the car. There’s a layby up ahead.’ She pointed to the shoulder on the other side of the road that jutted out over the ocean.

  He swung the car over, braked. ‘What is it?’ he asked, slinging his arm over the steering wheel.

  ‘What’s wrong? You look...’ She paused, her eyes searching his face, the tenderness in her gaze both surprising and disturbing. ‘You look terrible.’

  ‘I’m okay,’ he said, but the words came out on a bitter snap. His hands trembled on the wheel. He tightened his grip, but he couldn’t make them stop.

  Cool fingers covered his, and held on. ‘Your hands are shaking. You’re not okay. What is it? What did I say?’

  To his horror, he felt the pain twist in his chest that made his heart catapult into his throat. He took a deep breath, but it came out on a rush of air, doing nothing to calm his stampeding pulse.

  ‘I think my father was Zane’s father,’ he murmured. But he didn’t think, he knew, had always known. However hard he’d tried to pretend he didn’t.

  ‘Okay,’ Tess said softly, patiently, but with no hint of shock or surprise as she gripped his fingers.

  ‘Damn.’ He let his head drop back against the seat, squeezed his eyes shut. Letting go of the wheel, he found himself holding her slim fingers in his. ‘I can’t believe I actually said that out loud.’