Wyatt-1(Lane Brothers, Book 1)(190)

Being married to a tycoon has definitely got a few advantages that I don’t mind. An hour later, and after a really intense make-out session in his office, I watch him leave.

I’m not happy or sad or anything that really matters. I’m used to this, and though I know I’ll miss him tonight and won’t get to sleep very easily, I have to admit a small relief.

The first thing I do is call the doctor, who insists that I come in right away. The car, a rental, thanks to his insistence that I get a top of the line tank if I’m driving in the city, is harder to manage in the traffic than I originally thought, but I make it to my appointment in one piece with only the smallest scratch to the bumper.

“Well, you’re definitely pregnant,” I hear forty minutes later as I lie on the exam table waiting for a diagnosis.

“But—”

“The birth control the obstetrician prescribed is a pretty effective one, Mrs Lucas, so I’m a little flummoxed. But the test is a hundred percent positive.”

I feel the bottom drop out from under me as he pats my shoulder gently and leaves so that I can dress.

It’s… It should be impossible for me to be pregnant. Like the doctor says, when I’d spoken to the OB I’d been sure to get birth control that would nix the pregnancy scares right in the bud.

And here I am, pregnant.

Well there goes the honeymoon, I think, stomping to the car with a snort that makes me feel guilty. I should be really happy right now, and not in the least annoyed at the little cell currently nesting in my womb, and yet I am sooo annoyed.

I don’t want a baby. I want long nights of making love. Getting tipsy at New Year’s. Lazy Sundays in bed — okay, till maybe seven — with relaxation and a little romance.

“Shit.”

It’s just past four, so I call Kim and tell her I’m heading home instead of fighting traffic back to the office. I should call — no, he’s in the air right now, and I hate cell phones and airplanes together.

I’ve watched Air Crash Investigation. A lot.

My phone dings, and I smile when I read Nat’s message telling me Fletcher’s got the green light and will be taking her out tonight. Go, matchmaking Han!

I dial her number and glance back at a dark SUV that’s tailgating me.

“Slow down, asshole,” I mutter just as Nat answers.

“Nice. Should I be apologizing for something?”

“No. Sorry. I’m driving, and there’s a road pig on my ass. So, date?”

“Wait! You’re driving? He finally caved on the car?”

“No. He hired me a car and insists on taking me to pick out Lord only knows what indestructible thing. He was supposed to shotgun my first drive, but he had to fly to Singapore, so I’m foot loose and fancy free tonight. So, date?” I hint again, keeping an eye on the SUV behind me.

The guy’s on my ass in a big way, and I have no option but to speed up a little, even though it scares me to drive this fast.

“Yeah, he called, and I laid it all out for him. Nothing glitzy or…”

I stop listening for a second when the SUV comes closer, and curse, halting her enthusiasm.

“God, this guy,” I mutter.

It’s while I’m glancing back that a truck cuts in front of me. I swerve and tap the brake lightly. When nothing happens I slam my foot down hard and gasp when it hits the floor, leaving me frighteningly aware that I have no brakes, a truck a few inches in front of me, and absolutely nowhere to go but into oncoming traffic.

The last thing I hear as I smack head-on into the truck is Nat screaming and the sound of twisting metal as the car flips and starts rolling.





Chapter Thirty Seven




I don’t wake slowly like I assumed I would, but burst back to consciousness with a frantic panic that steals the air from my lungs. My first thought is for the baby I’ve just learned I’m carrying, and I go to grab my stomach and shove a hand between my trapped legs.

When it comes away dry and blood-free I sob and allow myself to look around. Twisted metal and glass fill my vision, along with the smell of gasoline.

I’m trapped in the car, smashed up against the seat and the door, and my head is pounding so violently it takes me a while to realize I’m hanging upside down.

“Han! Hannah! Jesus, what the hell is going on!”

I hear frantic screams, Nat’s frantic screams all around me.

“Nat.” It’s a choked whisper, a croak of pain, and I realize everything on me hurts, especially my right arm where it’s trapped between my body and the mangled door. “Call…Greg. Accident.”

It’s all I get out before the black spots swirling in my vision become a pall of unconscious.