Amy Fetzer - Having His Child

She patted on some powder, freshened her lipstick and brushed her hair. She was about to adjust her stockings when she saw Lucas roll around the door frame and lean against the wall.

Very softly, he said, “Are you going to tell me why you were under the sink in an evening dress? Because I couldn’t find a damn thing wrong with that drainpipe.”

She inhaled. “You didn’t run the water, did you?”

“No,” he said carefully, frowning.

She let out a relieved breath.

“You were looking for something.”

Angela nodded, unable to confess that she’d carelessly lost his gift. Her heart was breaking over it.

“Was it by chance—” He fished in his pocket, then held out his hand. “This?”

The strand of diamonds dangled from his fingertip.

“Oh, thank God,” she cried, rushing forward and taking it from him. “I thought it was gone forever.” She examined the clasp.

“I fixed it. The clasp was loose,” he said, and when she wrapped it over her wrist, he stepped forward to help her secure it. Her hands were shaking.

“It’s just a bracelet,” he said to her bowed head.

“No, it’s not.” Her voice broke a bit. “It’s priceless to me.”

“Why?” he said softly.

“Because you gave it to me.”

Something warm ignited in his chest then, spreading through him like wildfire, yet when she continued to stare at her wrist, he tucked a finger under her chin, forcing her head up till she met his gaze. “Aren’t you going to ask where I found it?”

Her tapered brows knitted. “Where was it?” she asked, and another wave of panic swept over her.

“In my house, Ange. In fact, it was snagged in my bedspread.” He watched the color drain from her beautiful face. “Now. You haven’t been to my place in a while. And I know you haven’t been in my bed.”

His softly spoken words, the mere suggestion lacing through them, sent curls of heat through her body.

“So that can only mean one thing.”

“And what might that be?” She swallowed, praying she wasn’t caught, then knowing she was.

He took a step closer, gazing down at her. “Why have you taken a second job as my wife for hire?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

Then his expression darkened, his blue eyes crystal sharp. “And why the hell did you lie to me about it?”

Her chin jutted out. “I didn’t lie. Exactly.”

“You just didn’t care enough to tell me that you’re my wife for hire?”

The accusation in his voice stung. “That’s not true, and you know it.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hand across his mouth. “I do. But that doesn’t explain why you kept this from me. I should have realized it, though. Who else would know all my favorite foods?” He sighed. “But you should have told me.”

“It wasn’t any of your business.” She moved past him into her bedroom.

He was hot on her heels. “You’re my friend. If you needed money, why didn’t you come to me?”

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