Elizabeth Harbison - A Pregnant Proposal

“I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to speak to me again.”

“Jen.” Matt couldn’t stand to see her so upset. “I’m not about to stop speaking to you. This isn’t about me.”

“Actually, yes, it kind of is. I told you my ex’s father asked me who my fiancé was. I had to come up with someone. Quick.” She snapped her fingers in rapid succession. “I barely had a second to catch my breath, much less think before I spoke.”

“Y-yes…?”

“I just told him the first name I thought of.”

“Which was…?”

Matt’s phone rang, much to his irritation. His inclination had been to ignore it, but he couldn’t very well do that if it might be for Jen. He’d barely answered when his father’s voice boomed, “Just what are you thinking, getting a girl in trouble, planning a shotgun wedding and not even letting your own father know about it?”

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To my Paige and Jack, and to the man who is a hero to us all, John.

Silhouette Romance

A Groom for Maggie #1239

Wife Without a Past #1258

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True Love Ranch #1323

*Emma and the Earl #1410

*Plain Jane Marries the Boss #1416

*Annie and the Prince #1423

*His Secret Heir #1528

A Pregnant Proposal #1553

ELIZABETH HARBISON

has been an avid reader for as long as she can remember. After devouring the Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden series in grade school, she moved on to the suspense of Mary Stewart, Dorothy Eden and Daphne du Maurier, just to name a few. From there is was a natural progression to writing, although early efforts have been securely hidden away in the back of a closet.

After authoring three cookbooks, Elizabeth turned her hand to writing romances and hasn’t looked back. Her second book for Silhouette Romance, Wife Without a Past, was a 1998 finalist for the Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA Award in the “Best Traditional Romance” category.

Elizabeth lives in Maryland with her husband, John, daughter, Mary Paige, and son, Jack, as well as two dogs, Bailey and Zuzu. She loves to hear from readers and you can write to her c/o Box 1636, Germantown, MD 20875.

KANE HALEY

Note to self: Who’s having my baby?

Trudy—hopeless romantic, office gossip, can’t keep a secret. If it’s not her, she might know who it is!

Lauren Connor—dates a lot, trying out new looks to impress her boss, was out sick with stomach flu. Hmm…

Sharon Davies—recently trapped in an elevator with a major client, blushes whenever he’s around, looking a little green lately. Could she be carrying my baby?

Leila—makes eyes at me. Is it more than a crush?

Maggie Steward—my personal assistant, wants children, clock is ticking. She would never go to a sperm bank!

Julia Parker—worries that her endometriosis could make her infertile. No man in her life. Definite sperm bank material!

Jennifer Martin—eight months pregnant. Is it her late fiancé’s baby? Is it mine?

WHEN THE LIGHTS WENT OUT…

A PREGNANT PROPOSAL

THE MAKEOVER TAKEOVER

LAST CHANCE FOR BABY

SHE’S HAVING MY BABY!

KANE HALEY, INC.

CHICAGO, IL

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

“I’m sorry.” Jennifer Martin dabbed at her teary eyes with a tissue and tried to hold back a sob. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You don’t know what’s wrong?” her friend, Susan Bane, repeated incredulously. “Five weeks ago your fiancé died during a tête-à-tête in the Caribbean—with a married woman, no less—and you don’t know why you’re upset?”

Jen blew her nose and tried to get comfortable on the stiff leather couch Philip had insisted was more “elegant” than the cozy down one she’d preferred. It was one more thing to be irritated with him about, and that irritation with a dead man was one more thing to feel guilty about. Lately that was the way her emotions chased each other around; first anger, then sadness, then guilt.

“Okay,” Jen said, taking a bottle of antacids off the side table and popping one of them into her mouth. It tasted chalky and disgusting, but she forced it down. “Obviously I have things to be upset about, but lately I’ve been just sobbing at the drop of a hat and it’s never for one clear reason. It seems to be getting worse, not better.”

Susan leaned over from her chair and patted Jen’s forearm, concern etched in her features. “Honey, I had no idea it was still so bad. Do you want me to stay here with you for a few days?”

Jen managed a smile. “Thanks, but I don’t think it would make much difference. Besides, the kids need you at home.” She blew her nose. “I’ll just wait it out and hope it gets better.”

“Have you thought about getting professional help?”

Jen waved the idea away with her hand.

Susan persisted. “All right, then, maybe just some straight talk from a friend. I don’t want to sound disrespectful, but Philip isn’t worth a nervous breakdown. It’s awful that he died, of course, but for Pete’s sake, it happened because his lover tossed her silk robe on one of the forty candles he had lit in the bridal suite at some St. Thomas No-Tell Hotel when he told you that he was in Boston on business. He was not a nice guy. No matter what the reason, you’re better off not being married to him.”

Jen pressed her lips together and nodded. “I agree. Knowing what I do now, he wasn’t good husband material.” She didn’t add that she was downright relieved that she wasn’t married to him.

Susan snorted. “He wasn’t nearly good enough for you. I never thought he was.”

“That’s funny, his parents never thought I was good enough for him. I guess a working girl from Michigan wasn’t what they had in mind for an up-and-coming Chicago uberlawyer. His father’s firm is all about image, and I didn’t fit it. They all drive the same kind of car. The same color even.” She shook her head. “I didn’t fit in with the blue, luxury station wagon wives.”

“See? So you’re better off without them, too.” Susan gave a sympathetic smile and added gently, “You have to put it all behind you and move on.”

“That’s just it,” Jen said, as tears burned her eyes again. She impatiently whipped a tissue out of the box next to her and held it against her eyes for a moment. “I don’t even think it’s Philip or what would have been our marriage that’s got me so upset. I don’t know what it is.” She reached for the antacids again and shook two more into her hand.

Susan watched her closely, then asked, “What’s with you and the Tums?”

Jen sniffed and shrugged. “I’ve had the worst heartburn lately.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s probably from being upset all the time.”