He shook his head. “But if there are any repercussions—”
“Repercussions?” But even as the word left her mouth, she realized what he meant. Babies.
Not a possibility. Really it wasn’t. Was it?
She worked back to her last period. She should be okay. Shouldn’t she? She’d never given babies any thought. Never. The whole idea seemed unreal.
“You’ll let me know?”
No, she wouldn’t. Because it wasn’t going to happen. The cold lump in her stomach was shock, not fear. “I should be okay.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “If you’re pregnant, we’ll just get married.”
…
Why the fuck had he said that?
Jake stared at the door she’d slammed in his face. He thought about going after her but decided to give her time to calm down.
If he’d ever envisaged proposing in his life, he couldn’t have imagined doing it in a ladies’ changing room, or receiving such an emphatic refusal. Though it hadn’t exactly been a proper proposal. He’d just suggested they get married for the baby’s sake.
But even if he’d gotten down on one knee and handed over the Koh-i-Noor diamond, he doubted he’d have gotten a better reception.
He was quite aware of what she thought about marriage. She wasn’t a big fan. But his brain had been scrambled by what had to be the best sex he’d experienced in his entire life. He knew that was because, for the first time, his emotions were involved.
So involved that he’d forgotten to use a condom.
Fuck.
What he couldn’t work out was—had he done it on purpose?
Was his subconscious trying to force her hand? Had he seriously thought that if he got her pregnant, she would jump at the chance to marry him?
This was Kim, who had sworn she would never tie herself into that trap again—she really believed she’d never remarry.
He should have just fucked both their brains out until she couldn’t think of anything else. Until a life without him was not an option. He already wanted her again. And she’d enjoyed herself just as much as he had. She’d come apart in his arms.
Instead, he’d opened his big mouth and mentioned the M-word.
He was so screwed.
Chapter Six
Jessica was waiting for her in reception, leaning on the desk, which was now empty. It had gone six, and most people had left for the evening. The afternoon had passed while Kim had lain prostrate on Jake’s desk.
Stop thinking about it!
But at least concentrating on the sex stopped her from dwelling on the rest.
Was he totally insensitive? He knew how she felt about marriage. She could only presume it was his protective streak coming out again. He obviously believed that since he’d had sex with her, she was even more his responsibility than before. That he needed to look after her. She had to tell him to stop thinking that way because it made her mad.
She could take care of herself.
And her baby.
Ahhhh!
There is no baby.
She took a deep breath. She was betting Jess was preparing her interrogation questions right now, and Kim had to decide how much to give away. She trusted Jess and wanted answers and advice. In the past, she’d have gone to Jake, but these were hardly the type of questions she could ask him.
Like is sex always that good?
And why hadn’t he used a condom? Jake was always thorough.
“Come on,” Jess said. “You look like you need a drink.”
Something occurred to her. If she did find out she was pregnant there would be no more chocolate martinis for the foreseeable future.
Fuck. That so wasn’t an option.
She took deep, steadying breath. It was okay. Because guess what—she wasn’t pregnant.
“I do. I do. I definitely need a drink.”
“Well, let’s get you one and then you can tell me all about your day.”
…
Sergeant Danielle Sinclair sat at their favorite table in the wine bar a couple of blocks over from the office. She appeared tiny, hunched over a bottle of beer. Dani had known both Jessica and Jake when they’d been in the army and she occasionally did freelance work for the company.
Unlike the other two, she was still in the army. At least for now. A few months ago, she’d been injured in a bomb explosion in Afghanistan. Now she was waiting to hear if she could return to duty and staying with Jess in the meantime.
“Hi,” she said, raising her bottle of beer in Kim and Jess’s direction. Dani had red-gold curls that reached her shoulders, green eyes, and freckles. She appeared about twelve years old, though she was actually twenty-seven, and had been in the army for ten years. She was a dog handler, the best there was, according to Jake, and another lost soul he seemed to have taken under his protective wing.
Jess went to the bar, and Kim sank down into the seat opposite. “So have you decided?” she asked.
Jake had offered Dani a temporary job while she awaited her next medical—the one that would declare whether she could return to the army or whether she’d be invalided out. She didn’t look well—pale, with lines of strain etching the corners of her eyes and mouth. She’d always seemed fragile, though according to Jess she was as tough as old boots and could face off the most dangerous badasses.
“Yeah, I’m going to take it. I fly out with the dogs in a few days.”
“Lucky thing. I’d give anything to be on that detail.”
“What? Babysitting some asshole playboy with more money than sense?”
“He’s not a playboy,” Jess said, putting a cocktail in front of Kim and handing Dani another beer. “He’s a screenwriter and a very successful one.”
Dani shrugged. “Same thing.”
“And he’s in Spain,” Kim said. “I heard from Gary—the place is fabulous.”
“At least the sunshine will be good. I’d forgotten how cold it is here even in the summer.”
Kim took a sip of her chocolate martini. The job would have been perfect, guarding a writer whose last screenplay had upset a few people. But as usual, Jake had said no. Pass the test and then he’d consider it.
She’d never get those bodyguarding jobs if she were pregnant.
Grr—where had that thought come from? She was so not pregnant.
She slammed her glass down, then glared as she caught Jess’s look of extreme interest.
“Okay,” Jess said. “What’s got you all worked up? Time to spill the beans.”
“Nothing,” she muttered.