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Sara gulped as she looked up, held captive in his hands, her body already responding to his. The problem was, he was the reason, but she knew she couldn’t blame him. He’d changed her; since the first moment their eyes had met, something in her had started to melt and breathe again. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, soberly. “You’re right. It’s not your fault.”
“Damn right it’s not my fault. If anyone is to blame, then it’s you because this, the way you make me feel, is all your fault.”
Simon looked at her for a long, searing moment before hauling her even closer into his chest, and claimed her mouth with his. It was passionate, bruising, all-encompassing. Simon’s hands held her easily, pressing her close into his fast-burgeoning arousal. And she did nothing to stop him because she couldn’t. Didn’t want to.
All she needed this, wanted him so badly that nothing else mattered but him here, right now, with his mouth on hers, giving her life. Restoring sanity, while taking it away spectacularly.
He pulled back after a long, incendiary moment. They were both breathing fast, hearts thumping in unison. She looked up at him helplessly, aghast at how even now he had the power to render her speechless with just a kiss.
When he spoke, it made something cold descend into Sara’s belly; his voice was so cool, so devoid of the passion she felt in his body. “Have you also forgotten that you’re carrying my child? And for that reason alone, if nothing else, you will be afforded my protection whether you like it or not. This isn’t just about us any more, Sara,”
“I need to tell Scott about it,” she said softly, “He doesn’t know about us and telling him that I’m pregnant will come as a shock to him, especially after everything that happened with Bruce. I can’t just move in with you without telling him anything,”
Simon stared at her for a second, “Fine,” he agreed, “I’ll talk to him too and when we’re done talking, you’ll come and stay with me?”
“Until?”
“Until after the baby is born. We will cross that bridge when we get there, but for now…. Now that you’re pregnant, you’ll stay with me so I can look after you… Both of you,”
______
Sara stood at the window of Simon’s top-floor apartment, arms folded. She sighed and turned to survey the room again. Despite its objects, its expensive furniture, it felt empty somehow. They arrived yesterday evening. Simon had overseen her pack her things in her house and had then driven them to his.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.
When they arrived, he had shown her to a separate bedroom, clearly having had no expectation that she would share his with him, and Sara had to wonder now what her role would be. And why she felt so confused about that-about what she wanted. This was exacerbated by the fact that she’d barely seen him since then. After having showed her where everything was, pointing out some food ready-prepared for eating, he’d informed her that he had work to do and had disappeared into his home office.
Then this morning, he’d been up and gone to work when she’d emerged from her room, feeling like a train wreck, even after an amazingly deep sleep. He’d left a note on the kitchen counter. His writing was as distinctive and boldly authoritative as him:
If you need anything, just call. My assistant will be around shortly with bank cards. Please make yourself at home. I will be back late, so don’t wait up. I’ll be eating out.
-Simon.
And just like that, here she was-pregnant with Simon Hamilton’s child, living with him in his home, and conveniently sidelined to…where, exactly?
________
“I’ve made an appointment with a gynecologist near here for tomorrow morning. You need to start thinking about yourself and the baby.” Simon told her.
Sara bristled; as if she’d had time to think about anything else. She’d hardly seen Simon, had been too focused on moving and handling clients as much as she could now, knowing that as the baby grew, she wouldn’t be able to do much, and now he was ordering her around only minutes after coming in the door at the end of a long, lonely week for her. She lashed out at his easy assumption that she was here for good.
“I’d prefer if I could choose my own doctor, thanks, and there are plenty of gynecologists in New York,”
A muscle clenched in his jaw. Sara was trying to ignore the way he looked so sexy in his suit. Suddenly to be faced with him after days of not touching him was making her equilibrium very shaky. She had to wonder where they stood now. Was their affair, in fact, over for him? Had the pregnancy killed his desire?
“She’s one of the best in New York. And I’m just trying to help,” said Simon.
Her eyes clashed with his, and her hands clenched at her sides as she regarded him across the kitchen where she’d followed him when he’d arrived home. Now she regretted the puppy-dog-like impulse. And her insecurity. “I don’t believe we’ve actually discussed this, Simon. I have every intention of choosing my own gynecologist and having my baby anywhere I want. As far as I’m concerned, I’m just here until the baby arrives,”
“You mean, our baby.”
“I mean, my baby. This is not a traditional relationship. I’ve no problem with you being involved, but I’m making the decisions to do with my body and how I want this to proceed.”
“I’m trying to make sure you get the best medical treatment,” he declared arrogantly, and Sara opened her mouth but faltered. He was right.
“That may be so. But when this baby is born, I’m going to want the support of my family. I have no one here,” Sara felt a rising sense of panic that Simon would just keep her here, like some kind of animal in a zoo.
She had her hand on her belly again, in an unconscious gesture of protection. She was dressed down in jeans and a loose shirt, and Simon could see the outline of her bra underneath, white and plain, and yet more seductive than the flimsiest lingerie he’d seen on her yet-the memory of which was all too vivid.