Zoe and the Tormented Tycoon by Kate Hewitt

Author:Kate Hewitt
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2010-10-31T23:00:00+00:00

Zoe leant her head back against the plush leather seat and closed her eyes as the limo sped down Park Avenue, the speed making her already queasy tummy do another alarming lurch.

Max had been staring ahead, seemingly oblivious of her since they’d entered the limo, and Zoe gathered he didn’t want to talk. Well, neither did she; this situation was awkward enough without enduring pointless, stilted conversations.

A knot of misery lodged in her gut, found its way up her throat. She’d clung to the belief—the hope—that her child would know its father, and now Max was choosing to make that a reality, so why couldn’t she be happier?

Why did everything still feel so unsettled, so wrong?

Zoe glanced at the forbidding profile of the man seated next to her and knew why she felt as unhappy as she did. Max might be willing to care for her and her child, but he obviously didn’t like it. Right now he looked as if he’d rather be anywhere—with anyone else—in the world.

Sighing, Zoe turned away and closed her eyes once more.

The doctor Max had found came highly recommended—or so he told her—yet Zoe could barely summon the energy to care or even respond as she sat in the luxurious waiting room, flipping through celebrity gossip magazines with a listless air.

Max sat next to her, his body rigid, his expression forbidding. Zoe fished out a packet of crackers from her handbag and nibbled one miserably.

When they were finally called into the examining room, she perched on the edge of the table with its crackly paper, suddenly nervous and unsure. The thought of being physically examined with Max standing in the corner of the room like a dark shadow made her feel even more nauseous than usual.

Perhaps he sensed this, for he suddenly asked, his voice as terse as ever, ‘Would you prefer me to be in the waiting room?’

‘I…’ Zoe swallowed, moistening her lips. ‘No. It’s all right. You can stay.’ Stupidly, perhaps, she meant it.

A few minutes later Dr Hargreaves, a trim, grey-haired woman in her early fifties, entered the room. ‘Mrs Monroe?’

‘No—’ The word came from Zoe involuntarily, horror and humiliation making her face burn. She glanced at Max, who didn’t react. ‘That is…my name is Zoe. Zoe Balfour. I’m— We’re…not—’

‘Of course,’ Dr Hargreaves said smoothly. ‘I apologise for my assumption. The assistant who took Mr Monroe’s call must have made a mistake.’ She smiled briskly and took Zoe’s chart from the folder by the door. ‘Now, let’s see…your last period was about eight weeks ago?’

‘I…I think so.’ Zoe couldn’t look at Max, which was just as well because he was standing utterly still and silent, the look on his face still so forbidding.

‘And you’ve done a home test?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’re feeling quite nauseous?’ The doctor continued with sympathy. ‘It tends to hit right around this time.’

‘Right.’

She flicked a glance towards Max. ‘I can prescribe something to help the nausea if it’s really bad, but the best thing is to eat protein, especially early in the morning, and snack frequently.

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