Waking Up Pregnant by Mira Lyn Kelly

Author:Mira Lyn Kelly
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-03-25T16:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

Darcy fumbled the slim disk again and that was it. Her hands bunched into the fabric at either side of the row of delicate mother-of-pearl buttons she’d loved so much when she saw them in the store, ready to rip the damn shirt into rags before she’d tolerate one more prickly seam cutting into her chest and stomach.

Two big hands closed gently around her wrists, the warmth of them radiating down her arms as a soft “Shhh,” penetrated the fog of her harried mind.

Her eyes blinked open and—

Jeff was standing in front of her, his tie undone, shirt open to his waist.

“Jeff.” She swallowed past the humiliation-sized knot lodged in her throat and peered up at him. “This isn’t what I—I don’t even know what I was thinking.”

Those earthy hazel eyes met hers as he shrugged first one shoulder and then the other from his suit shirt, dropping it behind him. He tugged the soft cotton of his undershirt free at his waist before pulling it overhead, and Darcy was left staring at the broad bare expanse of Jeff’s hard-cut upper body.

And wow.

“You were thinking you were tired of being uncomfortable,” he started. “That the morning sickness isn’t something you can control but this—clothes rubbing too tight—is. After months of how you’ve been feeling, no one could blame you for having had enough. You’ve been pushed to the edge by circumstances beyond your control. You hit your limit and needed to blow off a bit of steam.”

Her throat tightened as emotion different from the frustration, the bitterness, the humiliation began to work its way to the surface. Blinking back a fresh rush of tears, she nodded unable to voice the gratitude for his simple understanding in any other way.

The seconds ticked past and Jeff stood holding her gaze with his own. Letting her see the compassion in his eyes. The lack of judgment over actions that would have had most men backing away slowly—hands in the air, eyes on the ceiling, too uncomfortable with the messy fallout of emotions gone off the chain to do anything more than leave. But not Jeff.

He was giving her all the time she needed. Letting her know he’d seen what she was going through. And it wasn’t running him off.

Drawing her balled hands from where they rested at her own chest, Jeff brushed his thumbs in circles over her clenched fists and the sensitive skin at her wrists. “Open up, honey. Let go and try to relax a minute.”

His touch was light, a graze, and yet the barely there quality of it drew her focus completely. It felt good, those slow, soft circles a balm to her battered soul.

Her fingers unfurled, leaving her palms open to his touch.

To the same slow, soft circling attention pulling the tension from the farthest reaches of her body. Her toes and calves, the backs of her knees, deep in her belly and down the length of her spine.

Then he was resting her palms against his chest,

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