Talking Dirty With the Boss(29)

Luke’s tall figure was the only one in there. He was standing in the middle of the room, his attention on his ubiquitous phone. Then the door shut and he glanced up and saw her.

And her stomach dropped away, her mouth drying. How the hell was she going to broach this?

“I’m sorry,” she burst out. “I made a mistake.”

Luke put his phone into his jacket pocket. “Winning the auction, you mean?”

“Yeah.” She realized she was twisting the silk purse in her hands and that if she wasn’t careful, the beads would fall off. So she stopped. “I came to tell you that…perhaps you could run the auction again because I…” She faltered. “I can’t pay.”

Dark brows lowered. “Then why did you bid? You shouldn’t have if you didn’t have the money.”

“I know, I know. I got...carried away.”

His gaze didn’t let up, studying her face before continuing down over the little red silk dress she’d wedged herself into. The one that had made her feel sexy and beautiful when she’d first put it on this evening. The one that felt tight and uncomfortable after two pink lines had appeared on that bloody stick.

And suddenly Luke was striding toward her and she wanted to back away but her legs wouldn’t work. Her mouth opened to protest but by then it was too late. He touched her, an arm around her waist, and she thought he was going to kiss her. Part of her was trembling at the thought.

But he didn’t. He eased her over into a nearby chair and it wasn’t until she’d sat down that she realized she was on the verge of falling over.

“You’ve gone pale,” Luke said, examining her as if she was a piece of machinery that wasn’t working properly. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m…fine.”

“No, you’re not.” He stood in front of her chair, staring narrowly down at her. “You look like you’re in shock.”

“Well of course I’m in shock, idiot. I paid a ridiculous amount of money for…for you.”

His frown deepened. “That’s not why you’re pale.”

Marisa swallowed. There would be no procrastinating around Luke McNamara clearly. “No, it’s not.”

He folded his arms. “I’m guessing you didn’t get your period after all.”

“Um…” Marisa felt as if he could see right inside her, like an X-ray. She swallowed again, suddenly unable to speak.

The lines of his face hardened. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”





Chapter Six

It had been obvious from the moment she’d walked into the greenroom. Marisa Clair, pale and nervous? There could only be one reason. And now the expression on her face confirmed it.

He should be panicking right about now, or at least be in some kind of intense shock. Especially considering the icy cold that had seeped into his bones when he’d discovered the broken condom. After the possibility that Marisa might be pregnant had almost made him lose it.

But now that possibility was a reality, it wasn’t panic that surged through him. No, the adrenaline humming through his veins was more like… Actually, he wasn’t sure precisely what it was. It reminded him of those first moments behind the wheel of a new sports car. And the strange combination of fear, anticipation, and satisfaction that would go through him. Fear of the unknown, anticipation of the speed, and the satisfaction of having something he’d always wanted…

Luke shook away the thoughts. Now was not the time for navel-gazing. Now was the time to be dealing with Marisa’s bombshell.

She was opening the little purse she held clutched in her hands, fumbling around inside it, then held out a white stick and thrust it at him. “Of course I’m pregnant. Here’s proof if you want it.”

He didn’t, but he found himself taking the stick anyway, noting the telltale pink lines.

“Don’t worry. I washed it.” Marisa’s tone was acid, anger lurking in her blue eyes, a flush along her cheekbones. She was in that red silk dress he’d noticed from the stage. The one that hugged her delicious hourglass figure and made him remember things he’d tried hard not to remember for the past four weeks. Difficult when you had a photographic memory.

Not difficult. Try impossible.

Excellent, so he was thinking of sex at a time like this. Perfect. Another instance of why keeping away from Marisa Clair was a good idea.

Luke straightened and put the stick in his back pocket since after that dig he could hardly give it back to her. “I don’t need proof,” he said. “I knew the moment you walked in the door.”

She pushed herself sharply out of the chair. “Oh great. So the past few hours I’ve spent angsting about how to tell you were all for nothing. I should have displayed my pale self to you earlier and saved myself the worry, not to mention the money.”