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СКАЧАТЬ and you slept with me.”

      Her head snapped up from where she’d let it drop onto her knees. Her slanted eyes narrowed further, the tabby-brown darkening to near black. “So I’m the slut, and you’re what, just a stud? How do I know you’re not a serial impregnator? You said the broken condom was an accident, but was it?”

      “‘Serial impregnator’? That doesn’t even make sense.”

      “Maybe you get some kind of sick thrill out of being a baby daddy and abandoning your children. Men are like that.”

      Now she was starting to piss him off. “I have one child. I guess now I’ll have two. That’s it. And the reason I’m with you is because I want custody of my son.”

      “Probably for the child support,” she muttered.

      Hostile witness. Think of her as a hostile witness. He took a deep mental breath and worked on moving his features into a friendly smile, something that crossed good old boy with beta male. “Come on, darlin’, the floor in here is cold, and we’ve got some heavy-duty jawin’ to do. Let’s go sit on the couch so we can figure all this out.”

      She pulled away from the fingers he’d laid on her shoulder. “That really works on people?” She clasped her hands together until her knuckles went white. “The test could be wrong. It says so in the fine print...”

      “Darlin’—”

      “Don’t call me that. I am not your darlin’, and you are not a cowpoke or whatever the hell you’re pretending to be.” Her chin came up, matching the flat annoyance in her eyes.

      New tactic. He dropped the drawl and went for reasonable attorney. “Do you really think you’re not pregnant? You’ve been throwing up. You haven’t had your period, right? And the condom broke. How likely is it that the test is wrong?”

      “It’s possible.”

      “Take another one,” he said, holding on to his reasonable tone by the last thread of his patience. “I got three different ones.”

      He hesitated a moment, then moved out of the bathroom to give her time for the news to sink in. He needed a few minutes, too. As an attorney, he knew how to look calm, cool and collected, even when he wasn’t. He went to the bucket with its celebratory bottle of champagne. No. He hated the stuff, plus this called for something stronger. Cracking open the minibar, he got out the two tiny bottles of whiskey and gulped down the liquor in the first one without bothering to find a glass. He enjoyed the warmth as it hit his stomach and spread out from there, thawing the cold ball of dread...and excitement...that had lodged in his gut. For the second bottle, he found a glass and left the room quietly for ice.

      “Oh, my God,” he said to himself as he walked the corridor. A wife and a baby. That had not been how he’d imagined this day ending. Actually, his hope had been to convince her that there was no reason they shouldn’t enjoy each other again. They were married, after all, and had proved that night they were compatible sexually—more than once. The night, apparently. He stopped in the middle of the hall with the ice bucket, trying to take in the fact that he was going to be a father again. Maybe a little girl this time?

      When he got back to their room, she’d closed the bathroom door again. He poured his whiskey on the rocks, went to the window and stared out over the golf course below them. Lifting his glass to take a drink, he stopped when he saw his reflection in the window, a silly grin splitting his face. Maybe this wasn’t exactly how he’d wanted things to go, but having another child, making a family would never be a bad thing.

      They needed dinner—an amazing dinner with a spectacular dessert to celebrate. It was their honeymoon, and they were going to have a baby.

      “Olympia, I’m ordering room service. Steak, beans, salad, with something decadent and chocolate for dessert. Is there anything you want?” He stepped back surprised when the door opened.

      “That’ll be fine,” she said.

      He looked her over. Other than the pale face, she appeared composed, her usual competent, cowgirl self. Actually, she looked better than when they’d said, “I do” this morning. Had it only been this morning? He waited for her to say more, but she just walked past him and sat on the couch. He called in the order and worked hard to wipe the stupid, sappy grin off his face before sitting down with Olympia. She’d turned on the TV, putting it on mute.

      “The food should be here in fifteen, twenty minutes.” He paused, letting his brain sort through possible ways to get them on better footing. “You know Jessie from some rodeo camp you went to as kids, right?”

      Olympia nodded, her eyes not meeting his. “Is there something to drink?”

      “I can go to the soda machine. What would you like?”

      She sat for a moment, her face blank. Then she shook herself and said, “An orange soda?”

      “Sure thing. If room service comes, just put it on the room tab.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket and gave her a twenty. “Here’s a tip, too.”

      He hurried from the room. Olympia’s blank eyes were disturbing. He needed to remember that she’d never gone through this before—the delight and fear of pregnancy.

      * * *

      HE SMELLED THE FOOD as soon as he stepped back into the room with four cans of soda, none of them orange. He’d even tried different floors, hoping that the machines had different offerings. But no orange, so he’d gotten a variety that excluded caffeine—not good for the baby, not that any of the other ingredients were exactly healthy.

      The room-service table sat by the window, covered with silver-lidded dishes. Olympia stood by it, looking out at the peaceful desert, just as he’d done.

      “Why don’t we eat? You’ll feel better. It’ll help with the nausea,” he said. Her shoulders went up around her ears. “Come on. I know you’re hungry. I’m starved. Plus we need to celebrate.”

      “Celebrate?” she whirled around, her mouth contorted in rage, pain or maybe terror.

      “Sure. A baby and a wedding.”

      “A fake wedding and a baby that neither of us wants.”

      “Well, at least you’re admitting you’re pregnant.”

      She barked out a laugh. “Three pee sticks don’t lie. I’m a James. Of course I’m pregnant. It’s what we do. Hook up with some random guy, get pregnant, hope that it’ll last, then when it doesn’t, look for the next guy willing to—”

      “Whoa. Hold on. I won’t abandon—”

      “You’re all puffed up and proud because your swimmers won, but it doesn’t last. It never lasts.” Her words devolved into a sob.

      Spence took one small, slow step closer, wanting to comfort and reassure her. He picked up her hand and held it. She didn’t pull back. “I’m fighting for custody of my son. I won’t walk away from another child.” His heart flopped again as he thought about another baby in his life.

      “No,” she said, pulling away. “You’re not going to negotiate or talk me into this.”

      “I’m СКАЧАТЬ