towel, but Sara?
Nooo.
He couldn’t help the smile that sneaked over his lips. This small woman had the courage of ten men. Unfortunately, she had the intelligence and aptitude of ten men, too, so no matter how much work he threw at her, somehow she managed to get it done. He was beginning to wonder if a little man called Rumplestiltskin visited her apartment in the evenings.
No. There was no time for any man in her evenings. He’d seen to that.
He wiped the smile of satisfaction from his face. Her evenings were no concern of his.
He’d made an error of judgment—once.
She’d touched something inside him he’d thought buried and forgotten. Reopened old wounds he was sure had scarred over. She’d seen past the strength, past the power, past the money—to the man within.
He’d felt, that night, that he needed her.
He rose from his chair, anger flaring in his chest.
He needed no one, and he would never let that happen again.
Bent over the sink in the office bathroom, Sara suffered another sudden surge of nausea. She was exhausted, drained, run-down.
And more than three months pregnant.
Until her visit to the doctor that afternoon, the possibility of a pregnancy had never crossed her mind. She’d bled after all, just not as much as usual, and the bleeding never really seemed to go away. She’d felt ill from time to time, but she’d put it down to stress and lack of sleep. After what seemed like a few weeks of intermittent on-and-off period she went to her gynecologist.
Diagnosis: Pregnancy.
The bleeding was abnormal and her doctor’s concern showed in her face. Sara had no idea what showed on her own face: astonishment, disbelief, possibly horror.
She was bustled into an ultrasound room and unceremoniously stripped and smeared with gel so the bizarre events taking place inside her could be examined in scientific detail.
All disbelief vanished when she saw it on the ultrasound monitor. My baby. Its little heart pumping visibly, its tiny limbs already distinguishable, curved under its big head.
Her panicked gasping had frightened the ultrasound technician.
“Don’t worry, dear,” the nurse said softly. She was soft all over, from her gloved hands to her fluffy blond hair. “The uterine environment looks quite normal. Some people do continue spotting for some weeks with no known cause. There’s no apparent danger to your pregnancy.”
Her reassuring words penetrated Sara’s consciousness, but they only made tears rise in her throat. A turmoil of unfamiliar emotions racked her body. Guilt that she hadn’t spared a thought for the “uterine environment.” A fearful recoil at the alien life secreted in her belly for so long without her knowledge. And—even more alarming—a fierce tug of intense affection for the tiny person growing inside her.
She stumbled back to the office to prepare a report for a meeting the following morning. It hadn’t occurred to her to do otherwise. That was before the reality of the situation sank in. Before she found herself sitting at her desk, unable to focus her eyes, confused thoughts crowding her brain and terror twisting her gut. Before she sprinted into the bathroom, overwhelmed by nausea and the horrifying reality that everything in her life was about to change.
Had already changed.
She couldn’t keep working this hard. She was endangering not only her health, but that of her baby. The report for tomorrow’s meeting would have to wait. She’d apologize, say she was ill. But she’d sneak out and call in her regrets from home because she just couldn’t face Elan right now.
She wasn’t sure if she could ever face him again.
All his cruel assumptions about her on her first day had proven horrifyingly accurate. She had lusted after him and seduced him. She’d risked the career opportunity of a lifetime for a few hours of pleasure.
Gambled with her life for one night in his arms.
And I am carrying Elan’s baby.
The thought hit her for the first time like a splash of icy water. Somehow in the terrible excitement of discovering she was pregnant she’d managed not to think about the other person responsible for the life growing inside her.
How would he react? With shock, most likely. With horror, no doubt. Her disgrace was total.
She quickly stripped off her suit and put on her cycling clothes and sneakers, then shoved her suit into her backpack with far less care than usual. It wouldn’t fit for much longer anyway.
She splashed her face with water and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Her eyes were red and her skin blotchy with distress. Hopefully she could get away without running into anyone.
She emerged from the bathroom and dashed for the elevator. She hugged herself, struggled to keep her breathing even, to keep tears at bay until she left the office.
But the elevator arrived with Elan inside it.
He strode out, then paused. “Sara, you don’t look well.”
“Yes.” Her voice emerged as a whisper.
Guilt and terror paralyzed her limbs. Her secret swelled inside her, threatening to inflate like a giant blow-up and knock her over.
“Perhaps you’re working too hard?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Um…” She couldn’t seem to formulate a sentence that didn’t contain the words I’m having your baby.
I’ve got to get out of here.
A massive surge of adrenaline flooded her limbs with the urge to shove past him into the elevator and escape. Her heart thundered as she zeroed in on the dimly lit cavern that was her only escape route. If she could just get in there and let those doors close behind her.…
Elan stood barring the way, his brow lowered with concern.
“You’re ill. You should not ride your bike. I’ll drive you home.”
“No!” She spat the word, as images of their last car ride together assaulted her. Elan, shirt unbuttoned to reveal his hard chest. His broad hand on the wheel.
His sperm swimming toward her egg.
“I’ll be fine. The exercise will do me good. Do you mind if I…” she stammered, able to focus only on the dark emptiness of the elevator that would carry her away from a drama she wasn’t ready to take her part in.
He stood aside. Was that relief on his face? “We have no matters that can’t wait until tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” She dove past him. He let go of the elevator door he’d been holding for her. She saw him turn and look at her, his brow furrowed, as the doors closed.
She sagged against the cold metal walls as the elevator hummed into motion.
Oh, I’m not ill. I’m just pregnant with your child.
“You’re kidding me,” said Erin, after a very long pause. Her sister was the first person she’d called. As a single mother herself, Sara figured Erin would be able to relate.
“Would I kid about something like this?” Sara paced back and forth in her small apartment, trying not to bump her hip on the kitchen countertop or pull the phone off the wall. She couldn’t keep still. Too jumpy.
“You’re pregnant? By who? You only just moved there and you weren’t dating anyone here. Or were you?”
“No. I haven’t dated anyone since I broke up with Mike last year.” She paused to look out the