Expecting His Child: The Pregnancy Plot / Staking His Claim / A Tricky Proposition

* * *

AJ rolled over in bed and stared at the faint light coming under her door. Was Matt still working? She grabbed her phone and squinted at the time. 1:17. Surely the man had to sleep sometime.

As she lay there in the darkness, surrounded by unfamiliar scents and silence, her mind sluggishly kicked in. Pretty soon it was full of too many questions, too many thoughts.

Too many doubts.

With a grunt, she tossed off the bed covers then grabbed her robe. When she eased her door open, the subdued living-room lamp cast shadows across the room, but it was Matt’s office she focused on. She padded across the carpet, then placed her hand on the closed door.

Inside, she could hear his clear deep voice followed by another male voice that was slightly muffled and tinny. Skype? She heard Matt say, “Thanks. See you Sunday.” Then nothing.

The gentle clack of fingers on keyboard punctuated the silence. She grabbed the doorknob and slowly turned it.

Matt was at his desk, a laptop open in front of him, the rest of the surface strewn with papers, pens, a file or two. He’d rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing lean tanned forearms sprinkled with dark hair.

“Did I wake you?” he said suddenly, his focus still on the computer.

“I’m a light sleeper.”

He reached for a paper, scanning it with a frown. “You should go back to bed.”

She shoved a hand through her hair. “So should you. It’s late.”

He paused, placed the paper into a folder, then slowly swiveled his chair to face her. “In Rome it’s twenty past five in the afternoon.”

Rome. “Nice to know.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back for our appointment.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.” When he raised an eyebrow, she continued, “It’s Rome. Home of the Trevi Fountain, the Sistine Chapel, the Vatican. All that wonderful history and art...”

He studied her, looking all comfortable and relaxed in his office chair, a curious smile on his lips. “You’ve never been to Rome?”

“I’ve never been outside Australia. Too expensive.”

His gaze held her firm, revealing nothing. “Come here.”

She eyed him back. “Why?”

“Why not?”

She took one step forward, then another, until she was standing barely a foot away. He reached out, snagging her robe and dragging her to him until she was trapped between his thighs.

She reached out to steady herself and when her hands met his shoulders, she felt him tense. Like an old motor starting up, her pulse began to pound, but this time it was panic of a different kind.

She waited, heart in her throat as his eyes held hers for long, agonizing seconds. Then, without breaking contact, he slowly, almost reverently, untied her robe, gently peeling it back like he was unwrapping a wonderful new gift. When his knuckles briefly grazed the curve of her waist, her breath stuck and her eyes widened. Then he slid his hands over her hips and glanced down.

He snorted, mouth curving. “Nice jammies.”

“I happen to like Hello Kitty,” she said in mock offense. “And they’re comfy.”

“Yeah, they look it. Very...” His gaze returned to her low neckline, to her breasts barely contained by the soft tank top. “Well-worn.” And then he shocked her by reaching out and gently brushing his thumb over her peaking nipple.

Her breath hissed in. Their eyes met.

“I thought you said we should wait until after our appointment,” she managed to say.

His eyes darkened. “Do you want me to stop?”

The air suddenly became too warm, too thick.

She started to lean in the exact moment he pulled her down. They met halfway, an eager joining of lips and breath. When Matt kissed her, the outside world dissolved.

With a groan, she closed her eyes and put all she had into that kiss. She welcomed his tongue when it roughly invaded her mouth. She murmured her acquiescence when his hand cupped her breast then teased her aching nipple into eager hardness. And she offered no resistance when he fisted his other hand in her hair, pulling her down. His roughness excited her, making her groin ache. Already her breath was coming out heavy, and as she went to her knees on the carpet, she reached for his shirt, fumbling for the buttons.

After a second—a long-drawn out, painful second—she muffled a curse and instead, ripped his shirt open. The buttons went flying but she didn’t care. She just needed to feel his skin, trail her hands along his smooth chest, then follow it with her mouth.

He sucked in a breath when her questing fingers found his nipple. “Matt...” she purred, her smile widening at his guttural response. “Take me to bed.”

Matt groaned. When had she managed to turn the tables on him? He was supposed to be in control, making the decisions here. He had a plan, a damn good one. Yet one kiss from AJ’s lush mouth and he was panting like a dog in heat, prepared to let everything fall to pieces.

“We need to—”

“What, Matt?” She tweaked his nipple and he gasped, lust exploding in his belly. “What do we need?”

“We should—” He squeezed his eyes shut as her other hand descended, cupping his hard manhood.

“We should...” Her mouth parted again and he leaned down to take it like a thirsty man. She was so very hot, scorching him with her hands and lips and sweet body. He cupped her breast again, marveling at the lush curves on such a lean frame before pulling aside her tank top and releasing the glorious fullness.

He ripped his mouth free from hers and fastened his lips on her nipple with a satisfied groan.

Her gasp echoed off the walls as he tongued the nub, gently using his teeth and lips until it hardened beneath his ministrations. “You taste so sweet, Angel. So very sweet,” he muttered, dragging his mouth across the soft globe, then rubbing his stubbled chin over her nipple.

He was rewarded with another gasp, and with lust thundering through his veins, his groin painfully hard and every sense eager and ready to go, he finally gave in.

He hooked his thumbs in her pants and swiftly pulled them down.

After a brief caress and an appreciative murmur, he gently spread her knees, his hand diving between her legs.

Her gasp sent hot, urgent desire flooding his senses, and when he felt her wobble, he placed a steadying hand on her, while with the other he parted her folds and firmly eased one finger into her damp warmth.

She trembled so sweetly, it was hard to get control, but he did, and when he slid his finger deeper, making deep circular motions inside, her voice gurgled in her throat.

“You like that?” he murmured, tipping her forward so his lips met her neck. She nodded her agreement, squeezing him inside.

He paused. “More?”

“Yes.” It was a plea and they both knew it, but they were past the point of caring right now. He slowly pulled out before easing back in with two fingers this time.

The tightness made her gasp, her eyes widening as she stared right into his. They were dark like an abyss, passion bleeding them black.

Then he started to move, to glide in and out, and the delicious friction overtook everything else.

He gave himself over to pure sensation, to the smell of their passion, her gentle murmurs and heavy breath, to the way she rocked her hips as he gradually coaxed her higher and higher.

“Matt,” she finally managed to gasp. “Please...faster!”

He did as she asked, diving deep, building the moment, teasing and arousing until inevitably, she was right there on the edge.

“Yes,” he muttered, his mouth going to her breast again, teeth grazing her nipple.

And then he gently bit down and she exploded with a wrenching cry.

Matt clung to the last remnants of control as she enveloped him, the sensual beat pulsating, filling him to bursting. And then there it was, that gloriously sweet release when she came for him, when she was finally and irrevocably vulnerable beneath his hands. He’d done that and, damn, he felt like he could take on a whole army right now.

Except he was barely holding on and his erection was killing him.

With his hand still intimately holding her, he tried to undo his pants with one hand.

With a soft curse, he sighed. AJ shifted and suddenly her hands were at his belt, undoing it with deft fingers.

His grin matched hers until she hesitated, teeth nibbling her bottom lip as wide eyes met his.

“I can’t do this with you...with me...” She shifted then and Matt got it. “Right.”

Slowly, gently, he withdrew, and the sweet sound of her breath hissing out and the sudden musky scent of sex permeating the air made his blood race. They exchanged a knowing look, a look of lovers who knew exactly what was to come.

He took in her passion-brightened eyes, the way her lips curved as she silently yanked down his pants and boxers. He kicked them off, peeled away the tattered remnants of his shirt then reached for her.

They both sighed, lips exploring each other for a brief moment until Matt guided her backward to the desk. Cradling her firm bottom in his hand, he lifted her up, sliding her across the top and scattering the papers and pens in the process. Then he eased her leg around his waist and sure enough, she knew exactly what he wanted her to do. She swiftly brought her other leg around, linking her ankles at the small of his back. Her heels dug into his butt and he repositioned himself, eyes locked on hers. Her breath puffed over his cheek as she leaned in, eager and ready, and his lips caressed the careening pulse in her neck, breathing in the glorious scent of her damp skin.

And then he plunged in and it felt like the whole world skidded to a standstill.

Thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum. The beat throbbed hard and loud in his ears as her wet tightness completely surrounded him, a sweetly painful yet glorious sensation that grew as he struggled for control.

He grabbed her thighs, fingers digging into her pliant flesh as he shuddered. In the back of his mind he registered the odd thought—this desk is a perfect height—until she reached up and kissed him.

He devoted a few moments to her mouth, then finally began to move, slowly at first, then with a steady rhythm she quickly picked up on. Her hips thrust to meet his. With a groan he tipped her, angling deeper.

Their shocked gasps came out as one.

“Yes,” she murmured, her hot breath in his ear, lips nipping his jaw. “Yes.”

Sweat slicked them as they slid together, skin on skin. Muscles stretched and moved harmoniously until slowly a familiar tightness gripped his belly. Matt gritted his teeth, thighs clenching, but still he kept going, blinded by AJ’s passionate words in his ear, her sweet breath on his neck and her soft, pliable lips tilting up to receive his mouth. He kept going until he began to feel the swell of orgasm build, rushing closer and closer the more he sank into her hot, welcoming core.

“Angel...” he got out through gritted teeth. “I think—”

“Me, too,” she panted, her eyes tight, face straining. “Please, Matt, I need...”

He knew. He knew because he needed it, too. Time stood still and all he could do was suck in a thick breath and focus on her glorious expression as she finally, sweetly, came for him a second time. With a triumphant cry Matt let himself go, breath exploding like a drowning man coming up for air as he spilled into her.

Everything vibrated, pulsated, and his skin felt like someone had ripped a layer off. He shifted, wincing as his calf tightened painfully.

“You okay?” she murmured.

Oh, yeah. “Just a cramp.” He stretched his leg, careful not to disrupt her afterglow. He loved seeing her this way, all pouty and languid, her eyes heavy and mouth curved in a satisfied grin. Her belly slid across his, slick with sweat, and he gently skimmed a hand over her damp flesh.

“You’ve filled out,” he said, cupping her hip, taking pleasure in the warm skin.

“Are you telling me I’ve put on weight, Matthew Cooper?”

His gaze snapped up to her teasing expression and he returned her grin. “Yeah, but it looks good. A few more curves here,” he stroked her hip, then trailed back to her belly. “And here. I like it.”

She smiled, that luscious top lip teasing him. “You sure know how to flatter a girl.” Then she winced and shifted. “I think my butt has fallen asleep.”

He glanced over to the clock on his laptop. “Smart butt. It’s past two. We should follow its example.”

“Okay.”

She moved again and Matt gritted his teeth, stilling her with a hand on her thigh. “Wait.” As he slowly eased from her, she hissed through her teeth. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. It’s just...” She ducked his gaze, demurely drawing her legs together. “A bit tender.”

When he stepped back and reached for his clothes, AJ took the moment to regain her composure, sliding off the desk and grabbing her pants from the floor. She didn’t embarrass easily, yet she felt that annoying flush creep up her neck.

No other guy could make her blush like Matt could.

With her robe resecured and her pajama pants dangling from her fingers, she paused, watching him pull on his tattered shirt. The lean muscles in his shoulders shifted as he pushed one arm through a sleeve, then the other. She drank in the view, dragging her eyes across his smooth chest and dark nipples, down to his trim waist and abdominal ridges, to finally stop at his belly button where that tantalizing line of hair disappeared into his pants.

Her mouth went dry and she quickly snapped her gaze away. “I’m going to take a shower.”

He nodded then said softly, “Sleep well, AJ.”

You’re not coming with me? She bit down on that presumptuous question and instead managed a smile. “You, too.”

She waited until he turned back to the desk and, feeling incredibly out of sorts and oddly dismissed, she withdrew.

The discontent grew as she padded down the hall, offsetting the still-present throb of their lovemaking.

There was no reason to be annoyed, none at all. She’d pursued this and now she was getting exactly what she wanted.

With that thought firm in her head, she pushed open the bathroom door and turned on the light. A shower would go a long way to making her feel normal, even though she suspected this was just the start of many abnormal days ahead.

Ten

Matt leaned back in his chair, rubbed his eyes and reached for his third cup of coffee in two hours. Bright afternoon sun speared through the dark clouds outside and he winced, grabbing the remote to angle down the blinds.

As the shadows lengthened in his office, he relaxed a little. He’d been at GEM since eight and, amazingly, he’d managed to block out last night and focus on his schedule, completing his work in record time.

Until he paused and let his thoughts wander.

Lips...hair...soft sighs...

He swallowed his now-cold coffee, determinedly ignoring the way his body stirred. AJ was like a drug, seeping into his blood and arousing him to that point of almost painful ecstasy. Sure, they’d always been pretty explosive together but not like this. This was something more, something hotter, more intense.

Something deeper.

He shoved his cup across the desk. And now that he had the taste for her again, he wanted nothing more than to explore every new curve, kiss every inch of skin and bring her to climax over and over.

His phone rang, breaking off those dangerous thoughts, and he reached for it with a relieved sigh.

“Hello, darling.”

The familiar, oh-so-proper English voice washed over him. “Hi, Mum.” He stuck the phone in between his shoulder and ear and turned back to his computer. “What’s up?”

“Katrina tells me you’re off to Italy on Sunday.”

“Did she?”

“Yes.” Alicia Cooper ignored his irritation with practiced ease. “Could you call into Ferragamo and pick up a package for me?”

“More shoes?” He grinned, clicking on his computer screen then glancing over at his iPad as it synced.

“A woman can never have enough shoes,” she replied loftily.

As his chuckle petered out, she said, “Katrina also tells me she saw you last night.”

“Yeah.”

“With a redhead.”

His hand stilled on the mouse. “Yep,” he said cautiously.

“What happened to that other one...the dark-haired publishing assistant...Lilia, wasn’t it?”

“Nothing happened. We just went our separate ways.”

Matt ignored his mother’s silence, clicking the mouse and closing all the windows until only his schedule remained.

“What’s her name?” Alicia finally said.

Ah. There it was. “AJ.”

“Excuse me?”

“AJ. As in Angelina Jayne.” His computer trilled, indicating his office manager was updating his schedule. “Look, Mum, I’m a bit pushed for time, so...”

“What does she do?”

He swallowed a sigh. God spare him from his mother’s dogged determination to interfere in his life. Though Paige would tell him to give the woman a break. She’d lost one son already and Matt had chucked in a career she’d been heavily invested in since he was born. Maybe she just wanted to stay connected.

More like provide unwanted criticism.

“Well, Matthew?” she demanded now. “What does this woman do for a living?”

“She’s an artist.” The pause on the other end of the line told him so much, none of it good. “Look, Mum, I really have to go—”

“Fine,” she replied coolly. “Have a safe trip.” Yeah, she was pissed. Matt rubbed his forehead, smoothing out the frown lines.

“I will.”

He hung up, his good mood now laced with irritation. He glanced through his emails, forwarding a few, saving some, deleting the rest, before finally pushing away from the desk with a sigh.

This would not do. With a firm set to his jaw, he reached for his phone and dialed.

* * *

“Dinner again?” AJ glanced at the clock on the wall above the dining table—twelve-fifteen—then at a muted Dr. Phil on the massive TV screen. She stretched her legs, placing them carefully on the coffee table and crossing them at the ankles, then leaned back into the couch. “You really don’t have to, you know.”

“Wear something for the water.”

“What, a bikini?”

“No.” She heard the amusement in his voice. “Something for an ocean breeze. I’ll send a car for you at five.”

She hung up and tossed her phone onto the couch cushion. Everything still pulsed from last night, a dull ache that had her staring at the ceiling with a goofy, self-satisfied grin.

He was wooing her. Why?

She rolled her neck, wincing as she felt the muscles pop and stretch. Because that’s what he did. Along with his passionate intensity, this attentive treatment was part of his charm. For all his faults, she had to admit being the sole focus of Matt’s attention when they were together was incredibly flattering, not to mention a massive ego boost.

Amazing he was still single, despite his breakneck work ethic.

She scrolled through her phone messages, answering Emily’s, deleting a couple of spam. “Maybe he likes being single,” she said aloud to the TV. Dr. Phil nodded sagely. “Maybe he’s just not interested in marriage.” No, that wasn’t right—what about Katrina? “Maybe she ruined it all for him.” Hmm. Yes, that sounded plausible. The woman looked as if she could give a guy ice burns in all sorts of awkward places.

“Or maybe...” She deleted a few more texts. “He’s just shut it all down.” Despite his declaration to the contrary, she’d seen his expression twist into a brief flash of grief and regret when he’d mentioned his brother. Her stomach clenched. Matthew Cooper with emotional baggage? That was a new one. He didn’t seem the type to regret anything; he simply plowed through life, single-minded in his focus. He was a man of science, of medicine. Of cold hard facts. The kind of driven, ambitious guy the movies and TV portrayed with eerie accuracy. Yet he was also a guy with hidden depths, who believed in something as ephemeral as fate.

Huh. So they did have one thing in common, besides the sex thing—past hurts equaled an avoidance of attachment.

She didn’t have a chance to think more on that because the very last text caught her attention.

Miss you. C U tonight?

Huh. Jesse had texted her at one-thirty last night. “Not a chance in hell,” she murmured as she typed in her reply.

No. I don’t date married guys.

She sent the text, then glanced back at the TV. Dr. Phil was talking to two teens and it was apparent they both had very different opinions about raising their child.

“Good ol’ Dr. Phil,” she said, swinging her legs to the carpet. “Where were you when my parental unit needed your sensible advice? Not that she would’ve taken it, mind you.”

Her phone pinged.

2morrow then?

Ass. She scowled at the Android smiley, but the little green face merely grinned back at her.

Only if Nirvana get back together.

Resisting the urge to hurl her phone to the table—not good, considering it was made of glass—she instead gently placed it on the edge and stood. Jesse James Danson. Oh, how he’d loved playing up his outlaw persona, charming her with his wit and boyish smile one afternoon at her stall. And she’d been sucked in all right, recklessly promising to hand deliver her painting to what turned out to be his single guy apartment in Mermaid Beach. Her delivery had turned into coffee, then a week or two of phone tag, then suggestive texts, then finally, a month later, he’d coaxed her into bed.

She grabbed her phone and turned off the ringer for good measure. She wouldn’t give that guy any more of her time. She had a date to get ready for.

* * *

The sleek white Commodore arrived dead on five, pulling up in front of the apartment as afternoon light bled into early evening. The uniformed driver got out and opened her door with a smile.

“How are you this evening, ma’am?”

“I’m good.” She smiled and slid into the soft bucket seat, her stomach somewhere in the region of her throat. Nerves again? After last night? How could that be? Yet the butterflies, the absent tapping of her toe, the familiar song under her breath all pointed to one thing.

She buckled up as the driver got in and met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “To the Quay, is it?”

“I think so. Sorry, what’s your name?”

“It’s Kim, ma’am.”

“Hi, Kim. I’m AJ. And please, no ‘ma’am.’”

He smiled and nodded as he pulled away from the curb and switched on the stereo.

AJ watched the traffic as they made their way along Parramatta Road, the University of Sydney on her right, the former Grace Bros. building, which now housed the shiny Broadway shopping center, on the left. The last time she’d been in Sydney, she’d been working in a Pitt Street Mall coffee shop and house sharing with two surfers, a German backpacker and a sex phone worker. Yet as memorable as that time was, the music coming through the car speakers overshadowed it. The songs curled softly into her brain and took her further back, to the times when she’d been crazy, full of youthful recklessness and eager for seduction by a wicked smile and a pair of serious brown eyes.

When the third song came on she sucked in a breath and leaned forward. “Is this your CD?”

“No. Mister Cooper supplied it.”

“Oh.”

“You want me to turn it off?”

“No, it’s fine.” She tried to focus on the peak-hour traffic outside but it was no good. “I don’t believe it,” she muttered as “Sway” by Bic Runga finished and Collective Soul’s “Run” began. It was the same playlist her boss at Arabelle’s had piped through their system that summer ten years ago, playing it over and over until her coworker Maz had laughingly threatened to strike unless he played something— anything!—else. AJ ticked off the songs, drowning in the past as the car cruised down George Street: “How Will I Know” by Jessica Sanchez, “With or Without You” by U2, “Put Your Arms Around Me” by Texas and, yes, even Cliff Richard’s “Miss You Nights.”