The Pregnancy Plot. Paula Roe

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The Pregnancy Plot - Paula Roe


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angry means I still care.” She tipped her chin up, giving him her best down-the-nose glare, even though he was a good six inches taller. “And I don’t.”

      “Right.”

      His superiority grated. “Oh, get over yourself, Matt! It’s been ten years. I’ve moved on. Grown up. I’m living my life. You...” She waved a hand, taking in his perfectly suited frame. “You’re probably married to some socialite, chief of something by now and pleasing the pants off your parents—”

      “Actually, I’m divorced and run an international medical response team.”

      “—and honestly, I don’t think—” AJ paused then blinked. “What?”

      “I run GEM. It’s a global emergency medical—”

      “Wait, wait, wait. You quit Saint Catherine’s?”

      He nodded. “Just over four years ago.”

      AJ was stunned. “Holy crap. But you lived and breathed that place. It was your entire existence and you... Wow. What did your parents say?”

      “Considerably more than ‘wow.’” The cloud in those hooded velvet eyes spoke volumes, belying the casual quirk of his lips.

      “Wow,” she said again. He remained silent as she stared at him.

      He’d been married. It was old news, but her heart still smarted. He’d loved someone enough to propose. He’d taken someone else to bed and been loved in return.

      Was it wrong to hate someone she didn’t know?

      AJ focused on his beautiful mouth. She knew the second his thoughts solidified: his brown eyes darkened, nostrils flaring as he slowly dragged in a breath. “Angel...”

      She swallowed. “Don’t call me that.”

      She heard a loud click and jumped as the room was suddenly plunged into pitch darkness.

      The light timer had run its course. With a soft curse, AJ stuck out her hands and took a step forward.

      “AJ?”

      “I’m walking to the wall.” She took another step, then another...until she found something solid. And warm. Definitely not the wall.

      She sprung back with a dismayed groan and would’ve lost her footing if not for Matt’s quick response. He grabbed her arms, steadying her. “I’ve got you.”

      “I’m fine.”

      “Yes, you are.” The blackness was absolute but she could still hear the smile in his voice.

      Her breath hitched as his hands seared her skin. “You can let go now.”

      “Okay.”

      But he didn’t. Instead, he cupped her elbows and suddenly every one of her senses went on high alert.

      His long sensual fingers were warm on her skin and his subtle scent beckoned. When she felt him shift, a wave of body heat swathed her, drawing her into a seductive web.

      Damn it. Her heart pounded in familiar anticipation. She heard him draw in a breath, then slowly exhale. That gentle puff of air was way too close to her cheek.

      “Matthew. Turn the light on.”

      “I will.”

      “Now.”

      “You are still angry.”

      “That doesn’t concern you.” She struggled in his grasp so that when he released her, she crashed into his chest and her lips collided with his.

      She gasped and pulled back, a second too late. That fleeting moment of delight had done its job.

      The door suddenly swung open, and the light automatically switched back on. They both blinked and turned to see Paige standing in the doorway.

      Everyone froze in a strange tableau of embarrassment, followed by an immediate gathering of dignity as AJ and Matt both sprang apart.

      “Oh, hey,” Paige said, way too casually. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Matt. The newlyweds are leaving. You want to go?”

      “In a minute.” But he stayed where he was, studying AJ so thoroughly that she ended up smoothing down her perfectly straight skirts with nervous fingers.

      AJ didn’t miss the way Paige’s speculative gaze swept over them or the small grin on her lips. Oh, great. “I should be going, too.”

      “We could share a cab if you want,” Paige said.

      “Oh, I still have the bridal car....”

      “Really?” As Paige’s face lit up, AJ groaned inwardly. Damn.

      “You could share with me, if you like,” she said reluctantly. Say no, say no, say no.

      “That’d be great! Wouldn’t that be great, Matt?”

      His gaze darted from AJ to his sister, and a small frown suddenly furrowed his brow. Then he stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Wonderful.”

      * * *

      At the last minute, Paige conveniently realized she’d forgotten her purse. With an “I’ll just grab a cab—don’t worry!” she slammed the door on their surprised expressions and the Bentley pulled away from the curb.

      The silent drive was awkward. AJ kept her legs crossed, her body angled toward the door, her gaze firmly out the window, but it still didn’t stop her from casting furtive glances at Matt’s reflection in the glass.

      There was something about this man, this one particular person with whom she’d shared her body so freely and willingly. Out of all the other guys, she’d actually liked this one. He had ample cause to be a complete jerk—money, breeding, genius-level IQ, brilliant career, lush looks. But he wasn’t.

      At least, not until that night. And to be fair, she’d read far more into their fling than she should’ve. A mistake she’d avoided making for years afterward. Until Jesse.

      She shook her head, refusing to think about her last stupid mistake. Instead, her thoughts wandered back to Matt. Who knew what had shaped him in those ten years? Something obviously huge, considering he’d thrown away a career he’d sacrificed everything for since high school.

      Matthew finally broke the silence. “So what are you doing now?”

      Crashing and burning. Feeling way too attracted to you. Wanting to touch— “Going to my hotel.”

      “I meant for work,” he replied patiently.

      She sighed and slowly turned to him. This was her punishment for bad judgment—death by small talk. “I have a stall at the Gold Coast markets.”

      “Selling what?”

      “Drawings.”

      “You draw?”

      “And paint. I even do a pretty good caricature, which is my best seller.”

      “I didn’t know you were an artist. I mean,” he amended, “I saw you sketching once, but...”

      “We just shared a bed, Matt, not our deepest thoughts about life and love.” She shrugged. “We had fun for a few months.”

      She remained surprisingly calm under his scrutiny, even though her insides jumped as his fingers softly drummed on the door.

      You’re not twenty-three anymore. You can hold a man’s gaze without backing down like a blushing virgin.

      “We had fun,” he repeated slowly.

      The heat of irritation crept up her neck. “Well, I did.”

      His eyes darkened, mouth tilting into a knowing grin. “I know. I was there, remember?”

      Unfortunately she’d been doing


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