Kara Lennox - The Pregnancy Surprise

“Then say nothing. No words are necessary.”

“Can we just stay in bed the rest of the weekend?”

“We can, but we’ll get hungry.”

“We’ll order room service.”

“Unfortunately I’m the cook. I’ll just have to go downstairs and fix something.”

“We’ll order pizza delivery.”

“I like the way you think.”

THEY DOZED INTO the evening. Reece woke to find Sara nuzzling his ear, and the simple act had him hard again in a matter of seconds.

“If you don’t want me all over you again, you’d better stop that,” he warned her.

She didn’t stop, but chuckled low in her throat. “You think there’s even a remote possibility I don’t want you all over me?”

Apparently her appetite was no more diminished than his. He was determined, though, to make love to her, cherish her in the way she deserved, which of course he couldn’t, because any man who properly cherished Sara wouldn’t run out on her. But she was right, he didn’t want to think about that and ruin what time they had left.

He kissed every part of her, from the inside of her elbow to the inside of her thigh and the back of her neck. With each soft pressure of his lips she sighed, until the sighs became whimpers and the whimpers grew more insistent. Still, even when he entered her he moved with slow, deliberate thrusts, building the tension until she tossed beneath him like a stormy sea.

When he could hold himself back not another second, he gave in to the most unbelievable climax he’d ever experienced. Sara, fine-tuned to him as she was, cried out at the exact instant he did. Waves of pleasure washed over them both, gradually weakening to mere ripples.

The rumble of the air-conditioning turning on made Reece realize he was cold. He grabbed the sheet and pulled it over both of them, scooping Sara against him.

“Wow. I’m speechless.”

“Mmm,” Reece agreed. Words would only diminish something that was so beyond what the English language could encompass.

Apparently Sara thought so, too, because she said nothing more. She just snuggled up against him, sighing contentedly. Amazingly they slept again and didn’t wake up until after ten at night.

“Hey, you, wake up.” Sara hit Reece with a pillow.

He grabbed the pillow and whacked her back. “Is that any way to wake up the man who wore himself out making you happy? What happened to nuzzling me awake?”

“I was afraid if I did we’d just end up wearing ourselves out again, and this woman needs sustenance.”

“I’ll take you out anywhere you want to go,” Reece said, because he was starving himself.

“Ah, but sadly, this late nothing is open except the bars.”

Truthfully, a burger from Old Salt’s Bar and Grill, which was his favorite watering hole in Port C, sounded like heaven. But Sara had other ideas.

“I’ll fix us something.”

“Are you sure Miss Greer won’t mind? I’m not even an official guest here anymore.”

“I have my own stash of goodies. You can stay up here if you’d be embarrassed for Miss Greer to know we’ve been in my room together all these hours, making whoopie.”

“Now how would she know that? We could have been up here watching TV.”

“I don’t own a TV.”

“Reading poetry to each other, then.”

“Would you really read poetry to me?” She batted her eyelashes at him. “That’s so romantic.”

“You’re right, Miss Greer is no dummy. She would know exactly what we’ve been up to.” And was he embarrassed about it? “Maybe I’ll wait here for you.”

“Okay,” she said cheerfully as she slid out of bed and hunted for some clothes. “But don’t you get dressed. I’ll be comforted knowing you’re naked in my bed, waiting for me.”

“I always wanted to be a kept man.”

After she left, he turned on the bedside lamp, thinking he would find something to read while he waited for Sara to bring him dinner in bed. But as the lamp illuminated the room, he got a good look at it for the first time, free from the haze of overwhelming passion that earlier had caused him to see only Sara.

Oh. Dear. God.

Sara might do a good job keeping house for the Sunsetter, but her domestic skills clearly didn’t extend to her own space. Her stuff was everywhere. Several sets of clothes hung from the bedposts and were draped over the backs of chairs and on doorknobs. Her windowsills were lined with all kinds of plants, from cacti to trailing ivy. At least they all looked healthy. She had a tiny antique desk tucked into an alcove, but the papers on it were stacked so high they defied the laws of physics.

The box of dishes they’d bought at the antique store was shoved half under the bed; they’d taken out only the ones they needed to replace, washed them and tucked them back into Miss Greer’s china cabinet.

Reece thought about his old girlfriend, Elaine, and the mild infringements her things had made at his place-the clothes she’d left in his closet, a few toiletries she’d left in the medicine cabinet, her cartons of yogurt in his fridge. He could only imagine what his apartment would look like after Sara invaded, if she ever came to visit.

He waited for a shudder of distaste to wash over him. But strangely, as he pictured her clothes strewn about his bedroom, every pot and dish in his kitchen dirty as she enthusiastically tried some new recipe, he felt nothing but mild amusement. Maybe he was loosening up. Maybe he needed loosening up.

Maybe Elaine had been right calling him an uptight, controlling neat freak.

But people did change. And if he could change, maybe Sara could, too. Not drastically, because then she wouldn’t be Sara. But a little-just enough that they could meet in the middle.

A couple of weeks ago, he wouldn’t have thought their lives could be meshed. But now? Now he was invested. Now his mind was stretching to include intriguing possibilities.

SARA HEARD the TV coming from Miss Greer’s room, so she knocked lightly.

“Come in,” Miss Greer called out, sounding happier than Sara could ever remember.

When she entered, Sara found her employer and Valerie in the sitting area of the large bedroom watching TV. Sara felt only a slight pang of jealousy; Miss Greer had invited Sara to relax in her private room only a handful of times in eleven years. But Valerie was a blood relative and here only temporarily. Of course Miss Greer would want to spend as much time as possible with her.

“Sorry I haven’t checked in since this morning,” Sara said. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, dear,” Miss Greer said. “The guests are quiet.”

“Good.” The TV screen caught Sara’s eye. “What’s going on with the storm?”

“You haven’t heard?” Valerie said. “It’s now Hurricane Chelsea.”

“And it’s headed this way,” Miss Greer added. “If it doesn’t change course, it’s supposed to make landfall early Monday morning. Maybe tomorrow you could get out the ladder and close the shutters.”

She didn’t sound too worried, so Sara decided she shouldn’t be, either. This brick house had withstood storms for over a century, and the worst that had happened was an occasional brick or shingle coming loose.

“I’ll take care of it,” Sara promised. She wondered if she should mention the storm’s status to Reece, then decided not to. He would only worry about it, and his flight was scheduled before the storm would hit, so it shouldn’t concern him. “I’m going to fix myself some dinner and go to bed,” she announced.

“Good night, dear,” Miss Greer said. “Oh,” she added just as Sara was about to close the door, “tell Reece good-night, too.”

Sara felt her face heating as she escaped into the kitchen. She hadn’t been as discreet as she’d thought. Then again, Miss Greer had a sixth sense when it came to the goings-on under her roof.