Her Pregnancy Surprise: His Pregnancy Bargain / The Pregnancy Secret / Their Pregnancy Bombshell

Luc looked directly at Megan over the redhead’s glossy head. The expression in his deep-set eyes said, Save me! Megan smiled back heartlessly. Save him! Hilary could eat him alive as far as she was concerned!

In the distance Megan was vaguely conscious of her mother asking if she had had a knock on the head. Someone else suggested that what she needed was a good stiff drink to warm her up.

Good idea, Megan thought, reaching for the decanter of brandy on the bureau. In one smooth motion she filled her glass to the brim and lifted it to her lips.

When the fiery liquid was pooling in her empty stomach, she became aware that nobody was talking. They were all looking at her.

‘You know, I feel better already,’ she said, angling a hard, accusing glance towards the silent figure who stood just to her right.

It had all been a mistake; she felt the anger like a tight fist in her chest. He has done this to me, she thought hating him as much as she had wanted him earlier.

‘No, actually I do feel a bit hot and headachey now I think about it.’

A maternal hand was immediately clamped to her forehead. ‘I don’t think you have a temperature, but you can’t be too careful.’ Laura watched with a fixed smile as her daughter refilled her glass. ‘Perhaps you should go and lie down…?’

‘You know, I think I might.’ Megan drained the glass and set it down with elaborate care on the table. ‘Lovely to see you, Jean Paul. Catch up later, Uncle Mal,’ she called out cheerily. She kissed her mother’s cheek. ‘I’m sure I’ll feel better after a quick nap.’

She didn’t say anything to Luc. She knew if she did that all the fury seething inside her would explode.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MEGAN didn’t close the curtains. The moon had appeared and the leaded window was open. The soft breeze blowing through ruffled the heavy brocade curtains and cooled the warm, sticky night air.

She had slept in this room most of her life and she knew every creak and groan the ancient building could make. So when she heard a soft creak, Megan knew immediately that someone had stepped on the uneven floorboard just outside her door. That creaky floorboard had saved her from being caught reading under the covers on more than one occasion.

Mum, come to check up on me.

Sometimes, Megan decided, hiding your head under the bedclothes really was the only sensible thing to do. Before she did exactly that she twitched one of the drapes on her half-tester bed closed.

Lying there, eyes tightly closed she heard the door open. Though she strained her ears Megan couldn’t hear footsteps on the polished oak floor. Pretending to be asleep when you knew someone was in the room watching you had seemed a lot easier when she was ten, she reflected as she did her best to keep her breathing even and relaxed.

The silent presence she sensed seemed to stand beside the bed for a very long time. It seemed as if hours had passed before she heard the door latch softly click closed. She exhaled a gusty sigh of relief.

‘Thank goodness for that!’ she breathed, rolling onto her back. With a soft grunt she pulled herself to her knees and drew back the curtain. It was as she pushed wayward strands of hair from her sticky, too-warm face with her forearm that Megan realised she wasn’t alone.

Her midnight visitor was still there.

For a split second she just froze at the sight of the tall intruder standing with his broad shoulders set against the panelled oak door. The paralysis only lasted a fraction of a second before a massive rush of adrenaline was released into her bloodstream. Megan was out of the bed and standing there her body ramrod stiff.

Luc didn’t think he had ever seen anyone radiate loathing quite so effectively as Megan did at that moment. So maybe convincing her he had always intended to come clean might not be easy…?

Easy? She’s going to call you a lying bastard!

My God, had he messed up! It wasn’t that he had intended for things to go that far before he told her the truth; not doing so had been one of the stupidest things he had ever done and he was totally prepared to admit it. The fact was, for the first time in his life he had let sexual hunger overrule common sense.

Megan watched as he lifted a hand to his forehead in a languid mocking salute. The colour seeped out of her skin, only emphasizing the sapphire shimmer of her eyes.

This was all a joke to him. God, but she had been such a fool! She had knocked back God knew how many decent men who liked her for a man who hadn’t stopped lying to her from the moment they had met!

First Brian, now Luc—am I doomed to go through life being attracted to lowlife scumbags—? It was a deeply depressing thought, though, if she was honest, nothing she had felt for Brian in or out of bed resembled the passion that this man was capable of wakening in her. She had never hated Brian, or for that matter loved him. Whereas she hated Luc and…

‘You lying, conniving rat!’ she blasted.

I will not love him…I will not.

She stood there hating him, and hating even more the hot, liquid tightening low in her pelvis and the inner knowledge that if he touched her she would be lost.

Her eyes slid of their own volition over his lean, muscular body. He was perfect, but it wasn’t simply his physical perfection and startling male beauty that had her hooked, but the aura of raw sexuality that hung about him. She shivered. Everything he did, the slightest gesture, the way he turned his head, fascinated her.

‘A touch hypocritical coming from someone who was pretending, very badly, to be asleep.’

He levered himself casually from the door frame.

‘I thought you were my mother.’

‘That makes it all right, then.’

She ground her teeth, knowing that if she opened her mouth without counting to twenty she would be shrieking like a fishwife in two seconds flat. She didn’t want to risk getting incoherent or, worse, start bawling her head off. Megan wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of him.

‘I’m assuming you’re a little annoyed with me because I didn’t tell you who I was—?’

‘You’re incredibly perceptive for a lying rat.’

‘Do you think we could keep the rat references to the minimum? Can’t stand the things.’ ‘He rubbed his forearm vigorously as he admitted with a grimace, ‘They make my skin crawl.’

‘You make my skin crawl,’ she retorted childishly.

‘No, I don’t.’

The rippling sensation as all the muscles in her abdomen tightened wrenched a tiny grunt from her dry throat. His voice had a tactile quality that was like a caress.

Megan had never believed that violence solved anything, but as he stood there radiating total confidence she wondered if on this occasion it might not be the way to go. Even if it didn’t solve anything, wiping that arrogant smirk off his face might make her feel better.

She took a deep, calming breath and told herself to rise above the provocation. Don’t sink to his level.

‘You like my skin, Megan.’

She started to shake her head until her eyes connected with Luc’s. A slow, guilty flush spread over her face.

‘Not the man inside it, I don’t.’ The skin, however, the smooth skin with its incredibly satiny texture, still, to her immense shame, exerted a strong tug to her senses.

His face tautened with anger.

‘It wasn’t my inner beauty you were interested in earlier.’

The awful thing was his mortifying observation could be equally true now. A fact hard to miss when no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t stop her gaze straying to the point where the material of his shirt gaped, allowing a tormenting glimpse of flat brown belly.

He had been wearing the same shirt earlier. Megan had a horrible suspicion that she might have had something to do with that missing button.