Pregnant!: Prince and Future...Dad? / Expecting! / Millionaire Cop & Mum-To-Be. Christine Rimmer

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ a stubborn twenty seconds or so, she muttered, ‘‘I’d have to look at my calendar.’’

      ‘‘And where is your calendar?’’

      She knew by the expression on his face that there was no way to get out of this gracefully. She also knew there was no real reason she should want to get out of it. Whether or not she was actually pregnant was the main question, after all.

      Still she resisted. ‘‘You know, Finn, I think my biological functions should be my own business.’’

      He regarded her from under slightly lowered brows. ‘‘Darling. Please get the calendar.’’

      She had her own feet planted apart now, her arms folded over her middle, in a mirror of his pose. ‘‘I do resent this.’’

      ‘‘You being you, I’m certain you do.’’

      ‘‘What is that supposed to mean?’’

      ‘‘You’re an intelligent woman. My guess is you already know.’’

      They shared one of their stare-downs. A very long one. Out on T Street, a car went by, stereo booming out, heavy on the bases. As the hollow beat faded away, an ice-cream truck rolled slowly past, playing ‘‘It’s a Small World, After All’’ in the usual tinkling organ-grinder style of ice-cream trucks everywhere.

      In the end, Liv was the one who blinked. ‘‘I suppose you’ll stand there forever, refusing to budge, until I get you what you want.’’

      For that, she got the tiniest lift of one side of his beautiful mouth. And other than that, absolute stillness.

      ‘‘Oh, all right,’’ she muttered, then commanded, ‘‘wait here.’’

      She pounded up the stairs and stomped down the hall to the bedroom that was hers for the duration of her stay in the house. The calendar hung on a suction hook over the small cherry-wood desk in the corner, by the mirrored mahogany wardrobe. She had a palm planner, but she used it for appointments and school and business. She liked a nice big old-fashioned wall calendar for personal stuff—birthdays and dates with the hairdresser and keeping track of her periods.

      She snatched the calendar off the wall and turned to the previous month. She was pretty sure her last one had started a week before she left for Gullandria. It had been Friday, hadn’t it? And she’d had to run to the ladies’ room to take care of the problem.

      However, it appeared she’d forgotten to mark it down on her calendar.

      Well, well. Too bad.

      She started to hang the thing back on the wall, but then she remembered that look in Finn’s eyes. He was truly the most persistent man she’d ever had the inconvenience—and yes, all right, the pleasure—to get to know. Better to simply take it down to him and show him that whenever it had been, she’d failed to make a note of it.

      Finn was waiting right there at the bottom when she descended with the calendar. He watched her come down to him, a gleam of pure suspicion in his eyes. ‘‘I’m not sure I like that smile. It’s much too smug. Also, you’ve stopped pounding around like an elephant on the rampage. These are not good signs.’’

      ‘‘An elephant, huh? That’s not very flattering.’’

      ‘‘Let me see it.’’

      She reached the bottom and handed him the calendar. ‘‘Sorry. It appears that, whenever it was, I forgot to mark it down.’’

      He studied the page for June, pointed to a small pen mark on Wednesday, the fifth. ‘‘What about this?’’

      ‘‘A smudge. I draw a star in the upper left hand corner of the box for the first day.’’

      He looked at her probingly, then accused, ‘‘You do remember when it was, don’t you?’’

      She didn’t lie—exactly. ‘‘It was a hectic month. The end of school, finals, all that, followed by the move here and starting a new job. And then off to Gullandria and my, er, whirlwind week with you.’’

      He flipped the page back to May. Pointed at the tiny star in the square for the eleventh. ‘‘All right. Four weeks from there.’’

      ‘‘My. An expert on a woman’s cycle.’’

      He met her eyes. He wasn’t smiling. ‘‘This is a stupid game.’’

      ‘‘I’m not the one who insisted on playing it.’’

      ‘‘Is there some reason you don’t want me to know? Some reason for keeping me—for keeping both of us—in the dark?’’

      The question got snagged in her mind and wouldn’t shake loose. She felt a tiny stab—a pinprick, a needle’s jab—at her conscience.

      The day after a missed period, the brochure had said. According to that, they could know on Saturday. In four days, her life could be irrevocably changed.

      Yes, she did realize that if it was changed, it had happened already. It had happened almost two weeks ago in a small green clearing in the strange half light of a Gullandrian summer night. No home pregnancy test would change what already was.

      Still…

      The simple truth was as Finn had just said. She didn’t want to know. Not yet. As soon as she knew—as soon as Finn knew—decisions would have to be made.

      Oh, not yet, her heart cried. Don’t make me decide yet.

      So strange, for her, Liv Thorson, to be thinking of her heart. She didn’t go there, as a rule. She dated men like dear, sweet Simon. They told each other they cared for each other—and they did. They worked hard to excel. They spent their evenings studying or rallying for social change or discussing America’s rights and responsibilities as the only true remaining world superpower, debating this or that issue currently before the Supreme Court.

      It was nothing like this magic, this enchantment, with Finn. Yes, she’d had sex before that one unforgettable night with Finn. But not often, and not for a while. Until Finn, she simply hadn’t seen what all the shouting was about.

      She and the men she’d known before didn’t kiss endlessly on porch swings and whisper of romantic movies and tell each other what it was like back when they were children. They didn’t share picnics in Pioneer Park. They’d had more important things to do.

      And it wasn’t that she didn’t value all the same things that had mattered to her before. She did value them, and highly. It was only that she was seeing a whole new side of herself, one that, until Finn, she’d left utterly unexplored.

      Her mother had said it the night Liv found Finn staying at Ingrid’s house. The stop-and-smell-the-flowers part of her needed room to grow. And Finn Danelaw knew better than anyone how to help her with that.

      He’d done, she decided, a wonderful job of helping her so far, in spite of how she’d fought him every inch of the way. She wouldn’t mind at all if he kept helping her, indefinitely—for as long as the magic lasted between them.

СКАЧАТЬ