Tessa Radley - Expecting His Child - The Pregnancy Plot / Staking His Claim / A Tricky Proposition

“No!” she blurted out, then added more calmly, “No, that’s not necessary. I can find a cheap hotel someplace.”

“In Sydney?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I have a perfectly good apartment in Paddington you can use.”

She frowned. Surrounded by Matt’s things from his normal life? Bad idea.

“Or...” he added slowly. “There’s always my house at Pretty Beach.”

Oh, no. She shook her head. She needed her own space to keep up some emotional distance. His apartment would be bad enough, but being smack in the middle of the place where they’d made love and he’d scarred her vulnerable heart ten years ago?

Not going to happen.

“The apartment sounds fine. It’d only be for one night,” she added. “I’ve been staying at Zac’s place in Potts Point.”

He nodded. “You’ll need it for a few months, minimum.”

“A few months?”

“How long did you expect this to take, AJ?”

“Well, apparently the Reynolds women are breeders,” she muttered, recalling her mother’s irritating, oft-declared statement, which was always followed by a cackle and a wheeze.

With a bemused expression, he said, “We’re working with reality here, not a cute homily. Thirty percent is low but not impossible.” They stopped at the traffic light and he studied her intently, gauging her reaction. “We’ll need to take every single opportunity to ensure you get pregnant.”

That meant every possible moment having sex with Matt.

Was it bad that she was incredibly turned on right now? That she wanted nothing more than to lean across the seat, grab his tie and plant a kiss on those sensuous lips?

And just like all the times before, he read her intent as clearly as if she’d scrawled it across her face. His eyes darkened, a slow smile teasing the corner of his mouth. Then he deliberately dropped his gaze to her mouth, resting there for agonizing seconds before dragging it up to meet her eyes once more.

The interior of the car heated up by ten degrees.

The light changed and he abruptly turned back to the road. “I’ll drop you off at my place now.”

Hurry. “Okay.”

Twenty minutes later, when he parked in front of his apartment, gathered her bags and led the way into the lobby, her anticipation took a nosedive.

He placed the bags on the slate floor, pressed the elevator button and held out a key. “I’m on the fifteenth floor. I’ll see you at seven-thirty.”

Confused, she took the key, barely registering the brief contact their hands made. “But aren’t you...?”

“I have to get back to work.”

“Oh. Of course.” She bit back her disappointment and readjusted the strap on her shoulder. This is who he is, remember? The guy consumed with work. A perfect arrangement for you.

“AJ?”

“Yes?” She glanced up, and with a swift movement, Matt looped one finger in the top of her jeans and tugged her forward.

The kiss was brief, a mere millisecond of lips on lips. AJ registered the warmth, the seductive smell of his skin and the slight hitch in his breath. A haunting reminder of what they’d once had. And a promise of more to come.

Then it was over and Matt released her, stepping back with a grin as the elevator doors pinged open. “I’ll see you tonight. Wear a dress and heels.”

She could only nod numbly as she watched him stride through the lobby, all male efficiency and confidence. In stark contrast, emotion churned wildly in her gut, an annoying response to his kiss.

Get a grip, AJ. Put on your big girl panties and deal with this. With a nod, she yanked her suitcase handle and strode into the elevator, Matt’s apartment key firm in her clenched hand.

She would not expect anything more than what it was—a physical union to produce a baby. She’d enjoyed men before without the emotional commitment—she could do the same with Matthew Cooper.

Eight

AJ submerged herself in the huge spa bath so that only her mouth remained above the surface. The warm water lapped around her cheeks and over her eyelids, making her breath echo in her ears.

Matthew Cooper had said yes and she couldn’t quite believe it.

The doubt that had plagued her for the past half hour welled up again. This wouldn’t be a donation from a stranger—it was Matt. Someone she’d had a physical connection with. Someone whose DNA would form part of her child, someone who’d be reflected in the child’s face as he grew up.

A constant reminder of her past.

Was she completely insane or just way too focused on the end result not to have realized that before?

No. She ran her hands through her hair, the soft sodden strands floating around her face. Neither she nor Emily looked anything like her parents. Children were not clones—they were individuals with their own unique personalities.

Though her child would most likely have her curly red hair and blue eyes.

She felt the smile curve her mouth. All hers—no one else’s.

“Just concentrate on tonight,” she murmured, her voice bouncing off the tiled walls. Because Matt was actually taking her out. In public. On a date.

God, how she hated that word! The last time they’d had anything resembling a date was the night he’d broken up with her. Yes, she remembered it all, even if the edges had grown fuzzy with time and other lovers. She’d ordered Thai from their favorite takeaway, dressed up the table by the pool, then splurged on some fancy lingerie and wrapped herself in a satin robe, waiting for his return.

He’d been exhausted, dark circles emphasizing those poet’s eyes, brow furrowed from the pressures of his day. They’d eaten in silence while she practiced her speech over and over in her head, excitement and fear tempering her hunger.

Excitement because she’d never let someone this close before. Fear because...well, she’d never let someone this close before. Every survival instinct, every wrenching past disappointment had made its mark, scarring her subconscious and shaping her into the person she was. It was a sordid, painful minefield and she purposefully avoided that area.

Never count on anyone. Never let your guard down. Never, ever get comfortable.

Despite the walls she’d built, Matt had managed to worm his way in.

Damn right it was scary.

I’ve been thinking.... No, too cliché. What do you think about me moving in? She’d frowned into her pad thai. Too direct. She’d run through a few more, before settling on, I’ve decided to stay in town a bit longer. What do you think?

She’d smiled, taken a breath, then opened her mouth to make that scary leap off the cliff.

Matt had gotten there first.

AJ, I’m sorry, but this isn’t working for me anymore.

She abruptly sat up, sloshing water over the side of the tub. She was older now, wiser, with years of experience behind her. She’d thought they had meant something, but now she knew it’d all been in her head. No way would she be that vulnerable again. Ever.

With that thought she wrapped herself in a huge white towel, turbaned her hair in another and padded out into the living room. Late-afternoon sun streamed through the huge glass doors that led out onto a wrought-iron balcony housing a sleek state-of-the art Weber barbecue and a long entertainment area with an unhindered view of Sydney’s CBD, Centrepoint and the Harbour Bridge.

Like the rest of the buildings on Matt’s street, the 1920s facade was expertly restored. The theme continued inside the lobby, with art deco colors and marble stairs. Even the elevator, though modern, had been designed to reflect the period.

The interior of Matt’s apartment was beautiful, too, but in a clean, minimalistic way. She’d gone through every room, unashamedly poked into drawers, cupboards and shelves, yet her curiosity had been far from assuaged. The only art adorning the pale blue walls were black-and-white photographs of famous places—the Colosseum, the Great Wall of China, Stonehenge. As stunning as they were, they lacked the warmth and life of a painting. The Bondi Beach watercolor she’d done last year would bring things to life—if only it weren’t at home in Surfers, along with the majority of her paints and brushes.