LITMIR.BIZ

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of the laughter came back to her in a sickening rush, and she couldn’t help but wonder if all her goals and intentions had been a part of the joke. Only, as she looked into Connor’s eyes, some instinctive part of her knew it wasn’t the case.

      So what, then...

      “Oh, my God.” Her throat closed tight, trying to strangle the words she didn’t want to say. “Did you volunteer to be my sperm donor?”

      He was tall and handsome, without any obvious festering infections—

      “No.” His brows, already drawn low over his eyes, went even lower, obscuring what little chance she’d had to try to read a man who wasn’t exactly an open book to begin with. “Not really. Not like you’re thinking.”

      Not like she was thinking? Like what, then? she thought with a fresh wave of panic.

      Her eyes fell to the empty spot on her ring finger. He’d married her. So maybe it wasn’t so much a donation at all. Donations were free and clear...and this guy had already tied her down with a fairly significant string.

      He wanted dibs on her baby.

      He wanted a claim.

      Suddenly, her breath was coming faster than it should, and the air working its way in and out of her lungs felt thin and useless.

      “Wait, Megan. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I can tell from your face it’s wrong. Let me explain.”

      “You’re gay.” What else would a guy who looked like this be doing with her?

      “Uh...” That tilted smile was back and she knew she was right.

      “Okay, so you don’t want your parents to know? You need an heir or something to keep your trust fund?”

      “No—uh—I—uh—”

      Shaking her head, she closed her eyes. “Look, Carter, either way, it doesn’t matter. Whatever deal we might have worked out last night is off.”

      She’d been heavily intoxicated. Even if she’d signed a dozen documents, they would never stand up. She could walk away, unless—

      Her eyes shot wide as she stared up at him in horror. “Did you...try...to get me pregnant last night?”

      Connor coughed, his amused expression morphing into shock, confusion and something she really, really didn’t want to believe was guilt no matter how much it looked like it.

      His hand came up between them, but she didn’t care if he needed a minute to sort out his story or work through his defense. Spinning away, she banded her arms across her abdomen, sick with the knowledge of what she’d done. “Of all the stupid, self-sabotaging, dangerous—”

      “Megan.” The way he said her name made it half plea, half laugh.

      What had she done? Even if she wasn’t pregnant, she’d had unprotected sex with a man she didn’t know.

      ...patient zero...

      Her stomach pitched hard. “He could have an STD,” she gasped, her own anxiety pushing the words past her lips before she’d thought to stifle them.

      “Megan.” This time her name sounded strained coming through his lips. As though this guy was losing his patience.

      Tough. Whatever he was thinking, he’d have to put a pin in it. She had bigger fish to fry than worrying about his patience when her best-case scenario was not pregnant, not infected, but still having to push back her plan by six months to ensure enough time for any STDs to show up in the screen.

      “Damn it, Megan, look at me.” Those hands were on her again, spinning her around and holding her still as Connor got in her face.

      “One.” He let go of her to bring his thumb up. “I do not have any sexually transmitted diseases. I always use a condom and following the breakup of my yearlong committed relationship had myself tested, as a precaution, regardless. Two.” His index finger was next. “Neither is there a trust fund nor some executor to appease regarding it. Every cent I have, I earned on my own. Three, where the hell do you get this stuff?” Another finger. “Four, I didn’t marry you to get my hands on a baby. I married you because we had similar goals and priorities and expectations...and damn it, I married you because I liked you a hell of a lot too.”

      She shook her head, searching those impossible eyes. “But it doesn’t make sense—”

      He waved her off. “And five, I absolutely did not try to get you pregnant last night. We didn’t have sex.”

      Her jaw dropped.

      So he was gay.

      And why the revelation hit her like disappointment when she ought to be turning cartwheels, she couldn’t say. But she’d deal with it later.

      Only. then that mishmash of backward thinking was in play again, rising up with a victorious laugh at a thought that should have spurred outrage. “But I was naked,” she challenged, recalling she’d literally stumbled over her panties and hideous T-shirt sprinting to the bathroom. A lucky break considering how fast on her heels Connor had been.

      Naked and puking would have been a low she didn’t care to contemplate.

      “Yeah, and I didn’t say nothing happened.” With that concession, his gaze burned a slow path down her body, leaving her with the sense the bulk of her robe was all but invisible. He’d seen her before. And right then, he was seeing her again.

      “Connor!”

      His eyes met hers, completely unrepentant. “Man, I love it when you get my name right.”

      “Wait...what?”

      “Say it again for me.”

      “Okay,” she swallowed. “I believe you. You’re probably not gay.”

      “Mmm. So sure?” he needled.

      Make that definitely not. Like they definitely should have steered clear of the topic of sex altogether. Because having touched on it, now those hard-to-read eyes of his weren’t so hard to read at all. They were filled with a possessive sort of predatory heat...directed at her.

      “I could convince you. Spend the next hour or two making my argument.” Leaning into her space, he added, “I’m a pretty compelling guy when I set my mind to it.”

      “Connor,” she warned, trying not to give in to the laugh threatening to escape. She should be horrified. Traumatized. So why was it, in the aftermath of the worst decision of her life, this man’s totally inappropriate taunts and teasing were somehow making her feel safe.

      As if he’d sensed the ease in her tension, something changed in the man before her. The joking and pretense were set aside. Connor was completely serious, and her soul-deep awareness of his shift in mood was more disconcerting than waking up next to a stranger had been.

      “Megan, the reason we didn’t have sex last night was because you went from laughing and sexy and totally in the moment to not feeling so great. So instead of taking you to bed, I put you there. Simple.”

      Simple. Somehow it didn’t feel that way.

      He took her hand. “I should have realized how much you’d had to drink. I should have stopped us earlier.”

      “I’m a big girl with better sense than this. I should have stopped myself. Obviously.” She drew a slow breath and pressed the heels of her hands against the dull throb at her temples. “Look at where it got me.”

      “Married.” Connor’s warm palm cupped her cheek as he searched her eyes, his elusive smile nowhere to be found. “To a man who’s about as perfect an alternative to your plan as you can get. And you don’t even remember why.”

      “But you do?” she asked, the quiet words sounding too sincere for the sarcastic tone she’d intended.

      Suddenly

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