The Pregnancy Project. Kat Cantrell

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ jerked his head toward her abdomen. She had a baby in her womb and it was suddenly a sacred place, not available for desecrating with the kind of activities he’d had in mind mere minutes ago.

      He’d actually been strategizing on how to get her back into his arms so they could finish that kiss. How else would he exorcise his attraction to her? What small taste of her he’d been granted had thus far only whetted his appetite for the main course. Hers, too, obviously, despite her denial.

      Dante was an expert after all. She wanted him as much as the reverse was true.

      But she was already shaking her head. “That’s why the donor wasn’t anonymous. I did a lot of research into this before I made my decision and I carefully selected my baby’s father. Dr. Cardoza is the perfect—”

      “Dr. Cardoza? Dr. Tomas Cardoza is your baby’s father?” Red stained Dante’s vision, his hands curling and uncurling as he fought to keep from unleashing his frustration on the drywall.

      “He’s a renowned chemist,” she explained as if he might be confused about Cardoza’s contribution to the planet.

      “I know,” Dante somehow got out through clenched teeth. “If you recall, he’s the reason I didn’t win the Nobel.”

      Harper’s eyes widened. “Well, yeah. But that was ages ago. Surely you’re over that, especially given that you’ve moved into another field.”

      He couldn’t help it. The laugh bubbled out and he pinched off his glasses to wipe his eyes. Of all the people she could have fathered a baby with, she’d picked Cardoza, the sorriest excuse for a human being that ever walked the earth, and that included Dante’s parents, whoever they were.

      No. He wasn’t over it. Cardoza was the reason Dante had been forced into TV. If Cardoza hadn’t cheated on his methodology, he’d never have won the Nobel and Dante would have at least had a fair shot. After Cardoza had won, all the interest in Dante’s research had dried up, leaving him lab-less, fundless and desperate for someone to give him a new opportunity.

      The Science of Seduction had been born.

      Of course, it had been lucrative beyond his wildest fantasies. But a nine-figure bank account didn’t make up for having his long-held scientific goals stolen out from under him.

      “Just out of curiosity,” he said once he thought he could talk without betraying the wash of emotion beating at his breastbone. “How did you manage to pick Cardoza?”

      Of all freaking people.

      “Oh. I ran into Tomas at a convention recently. The thing I told you about in St. Louis? He was presenting a paper and I loved his conclusions. When I saw him later in the hotel lobby, I introduced myself and we got to talking.”

      “Got chummy, did you?” Dante practically sneered. Tomas. Like they were all friends here.

      “Sure, he’s a brilliant man. Great cheekbones. His genetics were the main reason I became interested in him.”

      Something black bloomed in Dante’s chest. “He hit on you.”

      “What? No. Well, okay, yeah, I guess if you count the fact that he asked if I’d consider getting pregnant the old-fashioned way ‘hitting on me.’” she accompanied her words with air quotes, oblivious to the way Dante’s stomach had lost its lining. “Then I guess he did.”

      Dante massaged the ice pick that had formed between his eyes. “Please, for the love of God, tell me you said no.”

      She scowled. “Of course I said no. I have no interest in that kind of relationship with any man.”

      Relief flooded his chest so fast, he almost saw stars. The thought of Cardoza putting his filthy paws on Harper—he swallowed the bile. Thankfully, she’d handed the horrible man his hat.

      With anyone else, this would be the point when he’d ask if she meant that she preferred women. But he’d felt her reaction when he’d held her in his arms.

      She was straight, 100 percent. “No interest in any man except me, you mean.”

      “Uh, no. Not with you, either,” she corrected. “Haven’t you been listening?”

      Oh, he’d heard every word, much to his chagrin. “You’re interested, Harper. You’re so interested you can’t stand it.”

      The way she’d curled into him when he’d kissed her, the thrill of her eagerly offered tongue against his—he’d be reliving that in need-soaked dreams tonight. She was interested. And not happy about it, clearly, as her reaction to the kiss had prompted this little game of true confessions.

      Pregnant. As mood killers went, that one took the cake.

      “I don’t know when you developed that industrial-sized ego,” she said primly. “But it can go anytime.”

      “Please.” He snorted. “Lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. Not when my mouth was on yours. I could feel your interest clear to my bones.”

      Not ego talking. Okay, maybe a little, because it did warm him up plenty, even now, to recall how fervently she’d responded. She’d thrown herself into the kiss, no holds barred, like she did everything, practically climbing into his pants while he kissed her, and he’d have let her.

      The attraction between them was mutual. Whether she liked it or not.

      A blush worked its way across her cheeks. “That’s just hormones.”

      That got a chuckle out of him. “Yeah. That is generally the way it works, or have you forgotten everything you learned in college?”

      To his surprise, she sank onto the couch and buried her head in her hands. Her shoulders started shaking and that’s when his bad mood vanished in favor of the mood he should have had all along—concern for the woman he cared about.

      He wedged in next to her on the couch and gathered her into his arms, holding her without a word because what would he say? He’d already ruined her big announcement, one she’d only made under duress because he’d been pushing her past her comfort zone.

      In another shocker, she relaxed into his embrace and it almost felt like normal. Sure, the smell of her hair crossed his eyes like it always did, but he’d been ignoring the physical pull of Harper for a long time. He could buck up for his friend, who’d spelled out her need for him in no uncertain terms.

      “I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair and she nodded. “I just don’t understand. Why a baby? And via artificial insemination to boot?”

      “I told you,” she mumbled against his shirt. “Romance is not my thing. It’s all a bunch of chemical reactions that people mistake as an emotion greeting card companies tell you is love. Then those reactions stop and what are you left with? My way is so much easier.”

      The arguments against all the mistakes in her theory bubbled to the surface and he almost started firing back facts from the hours and hours of research he’d done into the chemistry between people, but he cut it off at the last second. She didn’t need his opinion, professional or personal. Not right this moment. Not when she’d already made the decision.

      “Congrats, СКАЧАТЬ