His Baby, Her Heart. Sue Swift

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      The attorney closed his lips with an audible snap.

      “What came over her?”

      “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Alex left the office to follow Dena, who was halfway to her truck. He couldn’t help noticing the way her worn jeans clasped her fit, firm bottom. Stop it, Alex!

      He shoved her derriere out of his thoughts before he caught up with her in the parking lot. “What’s going on? I thought you were going to work over that contract with a fine-toothed comb.”

      “So did I.” Dena unlocked the door of her truck.

      “Wait right there.” Alex trotted to his car, opened the trunk and removed his tool kit. Finding some solvent in a spray can, he returned to Dena, who now sat inside her pickup.

      “Turn your head.” Alex sprayed the hinges. He wanted the mother of his child in perfect health before the embryo was implanted, so he used his free hand as a screen to keep the vapor away from Dena’s nostrils.

      He accidentally touched her cheek with his palm. Startled, he jerked away. “Sorry,” he mumbled, shaken. Though she worked outside, her skin wasn’t roughened by the sky and wind. Instead, she felt satin smooth, petal soft.

      Again, he inhaled her scent. He ignored it.

      Dena lurched back into the seat, her full lips pale and set. “Did I get some in your eyes? I tried not to.” He capped the oil container.

      “It’s okay.” But she still looked teary.

      “So why did you sign the contract?”

      Dena squirmed in her seat. “B-because I trust you.”

      He stared at her for several seconds before he remembered to smile. Dena Randolph had complimented him. Must be a historic occasion. As far as he knew, she’d never said anything nice about him. He was aware she called him Android Accountant Alex, the Corporate Clone. “Are you feeling all right?”

      She gave a shaky laugh. “Not really. I’m hungry. I need to eat before my next job, and you probably want to go back to work.”

      “Yeah, well, yeah.” He was completely tongue-tied. Alex hadn’t known that contact with Dena Randolph could cause loss of his voice and his sanity.

      As she drove away, he stood in the parking lot watching the retreating tailgate of her truck. He remained motionless long after it had disappeared from view.

      He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand either her bitterness or her surprise at his conduct. A supportive man. What a novel concept. Her sour attitude didn’t make sense. Tamara had described a happy childhood. Neither of his mother-in-law’s husbands had left, they’d died. Dena hadn’t come from a broken home.

      If she’d truly gotten over Steve’s desertion, why the cynicism?

      Scratch a cynic and there’s an idealist whose heart’s been broken. Where had Alex heard that before?

      Today, Dena had revealed depths he hadn’t known existed. What strange new relationship would he and Dena forge?

      Alex shook his head to clear his mind of all stray thoughts. None of this mattered. Only the baby mattered, but he knew that Dena’s emotions would affect his unborn child’s development.

      His task was clear. He’d protect Dena and keep her happy, despite his mixed feelings about the woman.

      And she was absolutely not going to get to him. Alex sucked in a deep breath, remembering the sweep of Dena’s red hair over her flushed cheeks, her voluptuous breasts pressing against her T-shirt, and her backside in those tight, faded jeans. He couldn’t repress his groan.

      He had lustful thoughts about his dead wife’s sister. What was wrong with him?

      Clutching the steering wheel, Dena turned out of the parking lot and onto Alhambra Boulevard. He’d gotten to her. Android Alex had managed to slip under her skin and make her cry.

      Like a chigger.

      Dena remembered Steve’s reaction when they’d learned she was pregnant. He’d been…startled, then accepting. But he’d chafed under the changes she made in their lives. She socialized less and slept more. She quit making caffeinated coffee in the mornings and didn’t serve wine or beer. She’d asked him to smoke his cigarettes outside.

      He’d rebelled against the idea of assisting her with the birth, chuckling that he never could stand the sight of blood. So going with her to Lamaze was out.

      When he’d seen on the ultrasound screen two hearts beating in her womb, he’d fallen silent. She’d been excited and assumed that his reaction meant that he was too stunned with joy to speak.

      Less than a month later, her husband—the man with whom she’d made a lifelong commitment—was gone, after cheating on her with every willing woman in the neighborhood. A geologist, Steve had dumped his boring government job to chase his dreams of wealth in the Saudi Arabian oil fields.

      He’d discarded his family the way a snake sheds its skin. He hadn’t contested the divorce. Occasionally he sent support checks. He wrote or phoned the twins even more rarely.

      Steve Randolph had never met his children.

      Dena stopped at a light and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. Waves of anger swept through her, leaving her shaky. Try as she might, she couldn’t suppress the rage that always engulfed her when she thought about Steve. This doesn’t help, she told herself. She’d never move forward with her life if she couldn’t find peace in her own soul with Steve and his betrayals.

      She threw Steve out of her mind. He was the past. He didn’t matter anymore.

      When the light changed to green, Dena accelerated through the intersection.

      And now Alex Chandler wanted to be her Lamaze partner. Deeply touched by the promise he made to stay by her side when the baby came, she felt she had to sign the contract.

      But now she had regrets. Had she acted too hastily?

      She supposed she should be grateful for his caring attitude, but she didn’t trust him, and the habit of independence from men had become deeply ingrained.

      If Alex was going to be her Lamaze coach, that meant he’d be present when she gave birth. That he wanted to be there hadn’t occurred to her. She didn’t want such intimacy with Alex Chandler. She didn’t like it. It made her feel…invaded, intruded upon.

      On the other hand, she’d agreed to bear his child. Few acts were more intimate. But the surrogacy made a mockery of intimacy, didn’t it? The baby would be Tamara’s, not hers.

      Dena shook her head. She didn’t want to get close to Alex in any way. He was her sister’s husband. Intimacy would seem just plain weird.

      She remembered the touch of his hand on her cheek, which had been the first time a man had touched her for years. The gentle stroke had felt warm and tingly. Good. Too good.

      She reminded herself that the caress had been accidental, and his concern for СКАЧАТЬ