One Night, So Pregnant!. Heidi Rice

      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.