His Baby to Love by Karen Sandler

Author:Karen Sandler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 2005-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

She’d told herself two lies. The first had really been more wishful thinking than out-and-out untruth. She’d really thought her nausea had finally faded, that if she was nice to her stomach and fed it regular meals, it would be nice in return. Crouched over the toilet now, the second morning after the night of infamy when she’d watched the ballgame with Gabe, she acknowledged that all her wishing hadn’t made it a reality.

The second lie was the more blatant one—that it had meant nothing when Gabe had brushed his lips against hers, that it had been inadvertent, happen-stance, unintended. He’d been leaning over, trying to wake her, he’d slipped. His mouth had fallen against hers accidentally. It hadn’t lingered there, his breath mingling with hers, his heat soaking into her.

Of course, it had been more than an accidental brush of his mouth. It had been a prelude, a precursor to pleasure. In another moment, that scudding touch would have led to a sensual assault from which it would have been impossible to break free. She’d been close to lost with the first contact.

It had felt about as good as this session in the bathroom felt bad. It had taken every ounce of willpower in her to push him away, when all she wanted was to pull him even closer. She might fool herself into thinking it hadn’t been a real, actual kiss, but it had had her tossing and turning for the two nights since.

She shifted, leaning her back against the vanity cabinet, waiting to see if her stomach had finished its argument or if it was prepping for round two. There were still a few crackers left in the nightstand drawer, although they hadn’t done the trick this morning.

Maybe she’d try getting to her feet. Reaching for the edge of the vanity for support, a rap on the bathroom door startled her and she whacked her elbow against the cabinet.

“What’s going on in there?” Gabe’s voice through the shut door rippled along her nerve endings.

Outrage followed on the heels of her reaction to him. “Why are you in my bedroom?”

“You came out, you ran back in. You left the door open.”

So she had. Her nausea hadn’t hit until she’d gotten a whiff of whatever Gabe had been cooking for his breakfast.

The memory sent a twist of queasiness through her. She dropped her head in her hand and dragged in a breath. “Go away.”

He opened the door, glancing in carefully as if afraid he’d catch her undressed. She was, in a way, completely stripped of her dignity as she slumped on the floor.

His face hardened as he stared down at her. “You’re sick to your stomach.”

She forced herself to look up at him. “Guilty as charged.”

His eyes were like ice. “I heard you get up last night.”

“I was thirsty. I got a glass of water.”

“You opened the liquor cabinet.”

For a moment, shock struck her silent. Then indignation exploded inside her and every angry denial she’d ever concocted over the years flooded her brain.

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