Excerpt from:  The Baby Bombshell

What had she done?

Raine fought to control her breathing. But it was too soon for anything resembling control. The aftermath of their lovemaking continued to ripple through her in great waves of delicious warmth. She didn’t want the moment to end, didn’t want sanity to return. Because then she’d have to deal with the consequences of her actions.

Lucien continued to cover her, still possessing her even after their passion had been spent. His scent invaded her, overwhelmed her. It was a part of her, as familiar as his touch and voice and taste. Years ago he’d branded her with his possession and now she felt that brand again, the sensation going deeper, growing more intense than before. It connected them on every possible level.

Did he feel it, too? Did she affect him the same way? She must. What had he said about the last time they’d been together? I’ve had sex and that wasn’t it. Despite their differences, despite everything that kept them apart, there was a connection that wouldn’t be denied. Only one question remained . . . .

What the hell were they going to do about it?

"Are you all right?" His voice rumbled close to her ear. He eased back slightly, bracing his elbows on either side of her head. "Did I hurt you?"

She could end things right now. All she had to do was push him away and offer a cool, "hey, thanks" and the moment would be shattered. He might be offended, but she’d have protected herself from a world of future hurt. She started to do just that. But somehow she found the sweep of his jaw instead of his chest. Sliding her hands along the raspy surface, her fingers sank deep into his hair.

"No," she murmured gently, pulling him down for a leisurely kiss. "You didn’t hurt me."

"Regrets?"

"They’ll come soon enough, I’m afraid, but right now I can’t work up the energy."

He rolled off her. Scooping her close, he clasped her body tight against his. She’d forgotten what it was like to lay naked in a man’s arms, to feel the intense dichotomy of masculine and feminine. They were polar opposites, as different from each other as the earth from the moon. And yet just like those heavenly bodies, they were locked together in a dance of sweet perfection, neither complete without the other.

Lucien broke the silence with a gusty sigh. "Yup."

She lifted her head from his shoulder. "Yup, what?"

"When I started out this morning I had it all planned."

Uh-oh. "What did you have planned?"

"I’d planned to drop by this old line shack. Then I planned to get myself stranded with the woman associated with one of my best memories. Next up on the list was to ride out the storm from hell with her. Have a tree eat the cabin and us along with it. Screw up my first ever attempt to play knight errand to her damsel in distress. And finally, I scribbled myself a note to make love like there was no tomorrow." He rested his chin against the top of her head. "Isn’t that how you planned your day when you got up this morning?"

She imitated his slow drawl. "Yup."

"Thought you might have." He waited a beat. "What are your plans for tomorrow? Anything like today?"

Like today? She swiftly assessed the question, attempting to read the underlying meaning. He couldn’t be asking what she imagined, could he? "I think I’ll try for something a little quieter," she offered tentatively.

"Quieter, huh? I guess that means I won’t be getting any more messages to meet you at deserted line shacks?"

More messages? She lay there, stunned. There wasn’t anything subtle about that question. No underlying meaning. Nothing to analyze. He’d put the offer right out there for her to accept or reject. She struggled to get her heartbeat under control as she considered her options. It hadn’t occurred to her that they could do this on a regular basis. Well . . . Parts of it, anyway. The parts worth repeating—not the parts with trees crashing down and cabins collapsing and getting trapped under the ruins.

The prospect of making love to Lucien again opened a whole new world of possibilities and she allowed herself to contemplate them for a few blissful moments. They could actually plan a romantic rendezvous, instead of it just happening to them. Heck, they were grownups. In fact, at thirty and thirty-three, respectively, they could be considered by some less charitable folk as sliding down the wrong side of a slippery slope, headed straight toward a serious case of old age. One plus to that was that old people were allowed to behave odd. It was expected of them.

Good heavens! She and Lucien could behave odd on a frequent basis. Heck, they could ride up to whichever line shack appealed, throw their clothing to the four winds, and indulge in all sorts of odd behavior without any of the pain and destruction that had highlighted tonight’s episode. Best of all, they could do it without the accompanying dirt and grime.

Now that she thoroughly considered the matter, they could sample every single line shack on Kincaid and Featherstone property. How long would that take? Depending on the enthusiasm with which they tackled the project, probably not long enough. Still, once they’d tried each one, they could revisit some of their all time favorites. So long as they didn’t leave any of them in a state of disrepair similar to this one, nobody would ever be the wiser.

The possibility of more nights like tonight made her dizzy with excitement. This could be so incredible. Only one question remained. Did Lucien share her opinion or had he been throwing out a lure just to see if anyone was hungry enough to bite?

She approached the discussion on tiptoe. "I don’t think meeting again would be smart. What’s your opinion on the matter?" Somehow a hint of hopefulness had climbed into her words.

"It would be downright foolhardy. We’re grown adults, not a couple of randy kids." His voice dropped to a soft rumble. "But would you do it?"

In a heartbeat. "I suspect the temptation would be almost more than I could bear," she confessed.

"Yeah. That’s sort of how I feel, too."

Right up until someone caught on to what they were doing, came the sobering thought.

And someone always caught on.

An image of Nanna’s reaction came to her and Raine winced. Nanna didn’t believe in an excess of passion outside of marriage. One transgression was understandable, expected even. But a second, and at Raine’s age, invited a serious talking to. And Nanna could talk like no one Raine had ever met before. It wasn’t just that she had the "gift." It went deeper than that. Nanna had strong views on right and wrong, views Raine had absorbed over their lifetime together.

If she and Lucien decided to have a fling, they’d be doing it beneath a cloud of serious Nanna guilt. As obstinate as Lucien had frequently proven himself to be, even he couldn’t stand up to that. Well, heck. When she balanced the unbelievable pleasure of misbehaving with the resulting consequences, all that guilt sort of sapped the fun right out of it.

"We can’t," she stated. Excellent. She sounded absolute. Uncompromising. No room for talking her into something she desperately wanted to do.

"Nanna?"

Raine sighed. "Nanna."

"She going to hang me for tonight?"

"If she does, I’ll be dangling at the end of a rope, right alongside of you."

"Somehow I think she’d forgive and forget this one slip," he offered.

"But not another."

"No."

He was silent for a long time. And then he said in a far too casual voice, "There could be consequences from tonight, you know."

Her brain chose that moment to lock up on her. "Consequences?" she repeated stupidly.

"Of the nine month variety."

She fought for breath. No. How could she have forgotten something as basic as that? "You mean . . . A baby?"

"That’s often the result when we’ve been doing what the two of us have, without using what we weren’t." He rested his palm low on her belly, the touch both possessive and questing—as though he were feeling for the start of a new life. "Unless you’re on the pill?"

"No."

"Sorta figured that would be your answer." His fingers splayed outward, brushing the soft curls between her thighs. "You need to take one of those tests as soon as possible."

His touch made it hard to concentrate, though the subject matter kept her from completely losing it. "And if I’m pregnant?" she asked unevenly.

"We’ll deal with the ifs once they become fer sures."

"I didn’t plan this." The comment exploded from her. "Not a lick of it."

"Well, no," he agreed reasonably enough. "I can see you didn’t, or you would have taken precautions."

"No, I mean, this isn’t some devious plot to get Nanna’s land back."

He paused long enough to consider the possibility. "I have to admit, there’d be easier ways of going about it."

"I just wanted to make that clear. What happened was—"

"Be careful what you say."

He’d lost her again. "About what?"

"This is a memory I intend to hold onto for a long, long time. When I’m an old man and the spring’s gone from my step, this memory will keep the twinkle in my eyes. And I won’t have that memory tarnished before it even becomes one. When I’m rocking away on my front porch, I want people wondering what the hell such an old geezer has to smile about."

"You’re going to smile about this?" She wasn’t quite sure, but she suspected she should be insulted. "Something about what happened amuses you?"

"No. Something about what happened will stay with me for the rest of my life." An edginess drifted through his words. "Won’t it stay with you?"

If a baby resulted, it would definitely stay with her. Then she closed her eyes, accepting the bittersweet truth. Whether she conceived a child or not, this night would always remain one of the most special she’d ever experienced. How could it not? It ranked right up there with the other occasion she’d made love with Lucien. Revisiting that night often proved painful. But it was also a moment of incandescent brightness.

This experience would prove the same. If their circumstances had been different, they might have explored a relationship. Perhaps it would have developed into something serious, something that would have matured and deepened into more than a simple twinkle in an old man’s eyes. A painful longing filled her and she inched closer to Lucien, drawing comfort from his warmth. She intended to savor every second of what time remained, because that’s all she’d ever have—this fleeting moment that fate had bestowed.

"Yes, tonight will stay with me," she whispered.

It would stay with her forever.

* * *

He should be upset. He should be fighting tooth and nail to find a way out of their situation.

Lucien traced the length of Raine’s spine, filling the hollow above her buttocks with his hand. He sure shouldn’t be enjoying their predicament. And he sure as hell shouldn’t be chock full of such blatant complacency. They were risking serious consequences here.

A baby.

Damn. Hadn’t he just told her a few short hours ago that he didn’t have a hankering for either a wife or a corral full of little ones? He still didn’t. No way, no how.

But what if she were pregnant?

An image of Raine with a babe at her breast leapt to mind, threatening to unman him. Even as he relaxed in the afterglow of the most incredible lovemaking he’d experienced in many a year, things could be happening. What if, now that his compatriots had finally escaped the rubber room that normally contained them, they were busily whooping it up over having roped themselves a fertile filly? While he lay here, exhausted from having given his all, two to four hundred million of his eager and energetic buddies could be duking it out over who’d be the first to saddle and ride her.

For some reason he found it hard to breathe.

What were the odds that one of them wouldn’t succeed? Hell, he was a pretty determined kind of guy. No doubt all his various parts and byproducts were every bit as determined. Four hundred million to one. Maybe five or six hundred million, because sure as shootin’ he’d be on the high end of the average. Big hands, big feet, it made sense he’d also have an extra heapin’ helping of little buddies. A knot kinked his innards. With those sort of odds, Raine’s own little friend didn’t stand a chance. The pressure built until he couldn’t stand it another second.

He bolted upright.

"Turn around, girl!" he shouted. "Head back upstream before it’s too late!"

Other Books in the Wedded Blitz Trilogy:

The Provocative Proposal

The Whirlwind Wedding

The Baby Bombshell

 

From the book:

 

THE BABY BOMBSHELL

by Day Leclaire

Book 3, Wedded Blitz Trilogy

Harlequin Romance #3723 -- November ’02

ISBN:  0-373-03723-6

 

ANOTHER 4 1/2 GOLD FOR THE FIRST BOOK IN DAY LECLAIRE'S NEW TRILOGY!

Praise for Day Leclaire’s books: "Once again, Day Leclaire, with her strong storytelling voice, does not disappoint ( 4 1/2 Gold) as she expertly weaves together her trademark phenomenal characters, witty scenes and deep emotional conflict." Shannon Short, Romantic Times

Copyright © 2002 by Day Leclaire.  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.  For more romance information surf to: http://www.eharlequin.com