A Baby To Tame The Wolfe by Heidi Rice

Author:Heidi Rice [Rice, Heidi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mills & Boon Modern
Published: 2022-05-31T23:00:00+00:00

Katie struggled to hold on to the ripple of reaction as Jack’s warm palm settled on her back and he leaned close to be heard over the conversations buzzing around them in the sumptuous Soho club.

‘We should head back to the house,’ Jack said.

It had been her first assignment as Jack Wolfe’s trophy wife and she felt as if she’d done her best. She’d made pointless small talk with a host of celebrities and VIPs, got besieged by photographers shouting her name as they’d entered the venue and had managed to appear calm and collected as Jack had introduced her and they’d received a ton of champagne toasts, good wishes and inquisitive comments laced with innuendo.

The decision had been made—according to Wolfe Inc’s press secretary—not to announce the pregnancy until she was showing. Katie had been pathetically grateful for that, because answering all the probing enquiries from Jack’s friends and acquaintances about their whirlwind courtship had been tough enough.

She supposed she had to thank Jack for that, too. He’d more than kept up his side of the bargain, playing the solicitous bridegroom with a predatory determination which had deflected anyone who got too close. As she’d struggled to adjust to all the attention, Jack’s presence by her side had made her feel strangely protected, until she’d remembered it was all an act. And, as the evening had worn on, fending off unwanted enquiries about their love affair hadn’t been anywhere near as tough as stopping herself from dissolving into a puddle of need every time she’d got a whiff of his scent. Or felt the firm touch of his palm caressing her back.

Like now.

The effect he had on her had only got more intense and overwhelming as he’d remained diligently by her side through the champagne reception in the club’s lavish atrium, a five-course meal of cordon bleu cuisine devised by the club’s Michelin-starred chef—which she’d barely touched—and the never-ending parade of witty and heartfelt speeches.

She stiffened as his callused fingers stroked her spine where the gown dipped, brutally aware of how addicted she had become to his clean, spicy scent. Surely that had to be the pregnancy hormones?

‘Are you sure?’ she whispered back, but had to stifle a yawn, the stress of the event and her struggle to keep her traitorous emotions in check—plus the fact she hadn’t been able to have her usual nap this afternoon—finally taking their toll.

His lips quirked, but as his gaze raked over her the riot of sensations only intensified. How could he seem so detached? When she was burning up inside, both exhausted and on edge? Why wasn’t he still struggling with the after-effects of that wedding kiss the way she was? Was her constant awareness of him really just the pregnancy hormones? Because the thought of going back to the house, of being alone with him again for the first time in weeks, was not helping to keep those hormones in check—especially after five solid hours of being the sole focus of his attention.

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