Her Pregnancy Surprise Read Online Free Page A

shook her head. ‘No, on second thoughts, don’t tell me, leave me with my illusions—though if you happened to nod when I said balding, or paunchy, that wouldn’t be totally out of order, would it?’
    ‘I thought your uncle was his editor?’
    ‘He is, but Uncle Malcolm’s lips are sealed when it comes to Lucas Patrick,’ she admitted regretfully.
    ‘And you’re curious…?’
    A grin of pure mischief spread across Megan’s face. ‘A girl always likes to know ahead of time what her future husband looks like.’
    ‘Future husband… ?’
    The look of horror etched on his dark, dramatically perfect face could not have been more heartfelt had she just announced her intention to marry him. Megan loosed a gurgle of laughter. ‘A joke,’ she placated.
    ‘He might not think so,’ the tall stranger observed as he scanned her amused face.
    ‘Then he has no sense of humour,’ Megan proclaimed.
    ‘You still haven’t said what brought you here…’
    Halfway to the door, Megan turned back at the sound of his voice. Why not? the reckless voice in her head suggested. You’re never going to see the man again. Maybe there was something in that old maxim that it was easier to discuss things with a stranger.
    ‘My mother wants me to be happy.’ She began to experience a familiar tightness in her chest and she sat down cautiously on the arm of a chair.
    ‘And that’s a problem?’ Luc watched her fumble in her bag.
    ‘She believes no woman is complete without a man.’
    ‘And you don’t have one.’
    Megan’s chin went up. ‘I don’t want one,’ she rebutted firmly. Her fingers closed over the inhaler she never went out without and she gave a sigh of relief. ‘At regular intervals she tries to set me up with someone she imagines…’
    ‘Is good breeding stock…’ came the straight-faced suggestion.
    Megan’s eyes narrowed. ‘Will make me happy,’ she corrected and raised the inhaler to her mouth. The relief was almost immediate. ‘This is why I avoid cats,’ she said, anticipating his question.
    ‘You have asthma?’ he queried, watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
    ‘A little,’ she admitted. She went to rise but a large hand fell on her shoulder, anchoring her to the spot. Her eyes slid from his brown fingers to his face.
    ‘Take a minute to get your breath,’ he suggested, actually it was more than a suggestion, it was a quiet command.
    Normally Megan didn’t respond well to commands but on this occasion she found herself strangely willing to let itpass. His concern, even though unnecessary was oddly comforting.
    ‘Can I get you anything? A glass of water?’
    She nodded; her throat felt oddly achy and constricted.
    Without a further comment he left and returned with a glass of water. He stood there, arms folded across his chest while she drank. Megan was very conscious of his silent presence. He wasn’t the sort of man you could forget was there.
    ‘Thank you,’ she said politely, handing back the empty glass. Their fingers touched briefly during the exchange; the contact did uncomfortable things to Megan’s pulse.
    ‘Can I call anyone for you?’
    ‘Gracious, no!’ Very conscious of her warm cheeks, she forced a smile but didn’t meet his eyes. ‘I’m fine.’
    ‘Despite a matchmaking mother.’
    The comment brought her head up. ‘I’ve tried everything to put her off,’ she admitted ruefully. ‘Nothing works.’
    Head tilted a little to one side, a frown deepening the line between his flyaway brows, he scanned her face. ‘What are you…thirty…?’
    The almost-spot-on estimate disconcerted her; she had enough female vanity to feel peeved.
    ‘Sorry, have I touched a nerve?’
    Megan glared at him. ‘No, you haven’t,’ she denied angrily. ‘I have no problem with being thirty…actually, almost thirty.’
    ‘Good for you,’ he interposed with silken gravity. ‘Don’t you think at almost thirty it’s time you told your mother to mind her own