His Baby, Her Heart by Sue Swift

Author:Sue Swift
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Dena cleared her throat. “Well, I guess we made quite a statement back there, didn’t we?”

Startled, Alex jerked away from her as reality intruded. He’d been drunk, drunk with champagne and her kisses. I have to stop this right now, he thought. Something about Dena threatened his control. The earthy wildness in her called to a want in his soul, a flame he didn’t understand that wanted to burn free. What would happen if he let that ember flare into life?

He adjusted his cuffs while collecting himself. “Yes, but what statement was it? They probably think you’re carrying my baby.”

“But I am.” She finger-combed her hair over her shoulders. Hairpins fell out of the updo to the ground, followed by the rose.

He picked up the flower and handed it to her. “Yes, but you’re the surrogate. This is Tamara’s baby.”Remember that, Chandler.

“What do you think will shock them more, Alex? That I’m carrying your baby, or that the child is Tami’s?” Dena tucked the bud into her bodice.

He couldn’t help staring. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s go. Time to deliver the news.”

Dena giggled. “I feel like a paperboy.”

Alex glanced down at her as they walked back into the building. He didn’t resist the impulse to peek down her alluring cleavage, now adorned by the pink rose. “Millions of men wish their paperboy looked like you.” Quit flirting with her, Chandler. You’re not supposed to flirt with the surrogate mother of your baby.

“Thank you,” she said primly. “By the way, what exactly are we going to tell your parents?”

He hoped that his devil-may-care grin would hide his uncertainty. “The truth, of course. That you’re expecting their grandchild by Tamara.”

“Oh, great,” she muttered.

They entered the ballroom with Alex towing her by the hand. Waiters circulated, passing drinks and hors d’oeuvres. Dena’s tight grip showed her tension, and Alex didn’t feel so wonderful himself. The glow from the champagne had faded, leaving a strong sense of purpose that drove him onward.

He steered Dena over to the little knot of people that included his parents. Dena’s mother, Irina Cohen, had catered the event and was chatting with the original four gossips.

“Mom, Dad,” he greeted them. “Hi, Irina. Dena, have you met Blanche’s parents, Sharyn and Martin Desmond?”

Dena inclined her head. The regal gesture was spoiled by her disheveled, sexy hair. “Congratulations. Blanche is marrying a wonderful guy.”

“Thank you.” Sharyn pointedly let her gaze drop to Dena’s midsection. “Will we be congratulating you and Alex soon?” Her eyes gleamed with malice.

Dena smiled, radiating serenity. “I certainly hope so. We expect our happy event to take place early next January.”

Alex mentally applauded her composure.

His mother’s mouth gaped like a surprised grouper’s. “The two of you ought to be ashamed of yourselves, cavorting in public with dear Tamara still warm in her grave.” She glared at him.

Irina adjusted the jacket of her tuxedo-style pantsuit. “I have a feeling my dahlink Tamara planned everything that’s happened.”

Leighton choked on his Scotch. “You mean to say that Tamara wanted her

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