Project Runaway Bride(17)

She suspected his offer was based more on the fact that she couldn’t cook. Well, not much, anyway. And he probably didn’t want to risk food poisoning so far from town and the nearest hospital.

The good news was that whatever morning sickness she’d been suffering did tend to limit itself to the mornings.

The bad news was that sitting across from Reid right now while they shared a meal was likely to knot her stomach in an entirely different manner.

And what exactly was she supposed to do in the morning when her pregnancy symptoms did make an appearance? Every day, she tended to spend a few hours, at least, looking like an extra in one of those deadly virus outbreak movies: all sweaty and flushed and lurching around like a zombie between bouts of retching.

Oh, yes, it was lovely. She was still waiting for the part where pregnancy was a beautiful experience and she started to “glow.”

She’d also heard pregnant women were supposed to avoid undue stress, but she couldn’t think of anything more stressful than being this close to Reid right now. Not after the way they’d parted, how she’d just left her fiancé at the altar and given the fact that Reid had no idea she was pregnant with his child.

She wasn’t sure she wanted him to know, and figuring that out while he was doing his best impression of “Me and My Shadow” didn’t help matters. It was going to be like counting to one thousand while someone else called out random numbers in your ear. She was starting to get a headache just thinking about it.

Another shiver stole over her and she curled her chilly fingers into fists. She really should go in before she caught a cold or turned into a human freezer pop. Only sheer stubbornness kept her outside when she knew the house was toasty warm even without a fire in the hearth.

Coming to her rescue—or perhaps luring her farther down the rabbit hole—Reid opened the front door and stuck his head out.

“Dinner’s ready,” he said, then disappeared back inside.

She toyed with the idea of ignoring him, just as she’d been toying with the idea of climbing into her BMW and driving away, regardless of his threat to chase after her. But in the end, she was simply too cold, too hungry, and edging toward too darn tired to fight it—him—anymore.

Warmth surrounded her the minute she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, chasing away any trace of chill lake air that had trailed in with her. She released a sigh of relief, rubbing her hands together before shrugging out of her sweater and draping it neatly over the back of a chair.

Then she turned her attention to the dining room table, where Reid had put out two place settings and even moved a small vase of artificial flowers from elsewhere in the cabin to the middle of the table as a centerpiece. If she hadn’t been so upset with him, she might have found the scene almost romantic.

Without sparing her a glance, Reid moved between the kitchen and dining areas to fill their plates and pour a couple glasses of wine. Clearly, he’d discovered her father’s collection.

Juliet’s nerves began to jump as she wondered exactly how she would manage to avoid drinking the stuff after it had already been poured. Especially when she’d never been one to turn down an offer of wine in Reid’s presence before.

For that matter, she was also a little bit concerned about the food scents that were mingling to fill nearly every nook and cranny of the spacious cabin. If they started to make her sick, she would have nowhere to go to get away from them and nowhere to hide from Reid’s too-keen scrutiny.

So far, though, she seemed okay. She couldn’t quite identify the fragrances assailing her at the moment, but they were rich and pleasant, and actually had her stomach rumbling rather than revolting.

Taking a tentative step forward, she slipped her fingers into the front pockets of her casual navy slacks.

“What are we having?” she asked as Reid took one last trip from the kitchen and deposited a platter of rolls on the table.

He lifted his head to look at her, and she pretended not to notice the flash of heat reflected in his chocolate brown eyes. She pretended not to feel it, either, as it filled her and seeped into all of the dark, forbidden places that missed him most in the wee small hours of the night when she sometimes couldn’t sleep.

“You’ve got a really well-stocked pantry here,” he said, pulling out a chair and waiting for her to take her seat. “Not to mention the freezer and fresh stuff you picked up on the way.”

Rounding the table, he took his own seat straight across from her. “I found some beef medallions and a jar of sauce, and even some frozen bread dough for rolls. The only thing we’re missing is a spring lettuce salad with raspberry vinaigrette.”