“And what if things don’t go badly?”
Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she seemed to gather her thoughts. Eyes back open, she moved away from him, hands seeking her scattered clothes. “Emotions can cloud judgment. I pride myself on my professional reputation.”
“I can understand that.”
“I’m embarrassed.”
“Don’t be.” He swept a hand over her auburn hair.
“We can’t let it happen again.”
“How about we cut a deal?” He started buttoning his shirt. “I’ll keep my hands to myself for the next thirty days while you’re on the payroll.”
“Thank you.” She knelt on the ground, searching for her shoes under the sofa.
“But I want to make it clear, that doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to get you to ask me to put my hands on you.” He started to zip his pants, and...
“You have to realize I don’t want anyone to know about this. In fact, as I just said, it can’t happen again.” She put on one shoe, then the other. “It’s unprofessional, not to mention distracting from what we need to accomplish. And it’s not like this fling would be going anywhere.”
Hell. He reached for her arm. “Isabeau—”
“Don’t get me wrong, it was great sex and I don’t regret it. We just need to make a pact that this is what it is—a wedding hookup.”
He repeated, “Isabeau—”
“What?”
There was no easy way to say this. “You may want to rethink our acting like mere work acquaintances. It could be helpful to the cause.”
“Thanks, but no.”
He eased her back to sit beside him, holding her eyes with his. “Being a couple would make things easier if we have news to deal with a month from now.”
“News to deal with? I’m sorry, but I’m not following you.”
“Isabeau, the condom broke.”
Four
The afterglow of awesome lovemaking faded fast.
“What did you say?” Isabeau prayed she’d heard wrong.
Surely she had. Even though she knew full well exactly what he’d said. She willed back the tide of panic.
“The condom broke,” he repeated, zipping his pants and exhaling. Hard. “I am so damn sorry. But I want you to know that if there’s a baby, I will take care of both you and the child—”
“Whoa, cowboy.” She held up a hand to stop him. She could barely wrap her brain around the possibility of pregnancy. No way was she ready to leap into the future just yet. A future she really, really hoped didn’t happen. “Slow your roll there. I’m still catching my breath and you’re already planning for a future that’s unlikely anyhow.”
Sinking sunlight seemed to evaporate the warmth of the sunny Alaskan day. A chilling cold worked through the room, causing the hairs on the back of Isabeau’s neck to stand on end, nerves working to form knots in her stomach. In the approaching dusk, the dull yellow lamplight provided minimal visibility.
“Unlikely? Famous last words.” He shook his head. “We need to be prepared. I’m simply making sure you don’t spend the next few weeks in limbo wondering where I stand.”
Her panic level upped a notch at the thought of pushing this subject now, before she’d had a chance to process what she’d done with him...and what had happened. “Is that a pointed statement to nudge for information on where I stand?”
She fidgeted with her still-discarded dress, the talk of a nebulous future with a child she shared with this man feeling a bit like a hazed dream. The chilling night air seemed to grow more aggressive, and she yanked her dress on, letting the fabric wrap against her skin, providing warmth.
And a much-needed barrier.
He tucked her hair behind her ear gently. “If you’re feeling so inclined.”
The quality of light from the small table lamps no longer felt like enough. As if sensing her thoughts, he flicked on another switch, the bright overhead fluorescent fixture coming to life with a low hum.
“I’m not. Yet.” She swallowed back more of that panic. Her last serious relationship had turned out to be with a possessive stalker. The thought of commitment made her throat start to close up. She wished she had her dog but she’d been overly confident, distracted.
Breathe—slow, deep breaths, no hyperventilating.
If she was pregnant, that limited her anxiety medication options. Oh crap. Just the thought made her heart pound harder. “When I have my head together, I’ll let you know.”
“Fair enough.” His hand glided down between her shoulder blades. “How about we—”
“Not a chance. I may not know a lot of things right now, but I am absolutely certain we are not sleeping together again.”
He pulled his hand back, raising both. “I was actually going to suggest we plan a time to talk away from here. But what is your reason for being so certain?”
Forcing herself to stand on wobbly legs, she smoothed her dress back down. Step one. Control her image. Small routines for this chaotic moment. Checking that her earrings were still in place, she turned to face him, drawing in a breath, trying to look more confident than she actually felt.
This had been such a mistake and she needed to get out of here fast to sort through her thoughts with a clear head.
She chewed her bottom lip, then said carefully, “I’m sorry for presuming. You’re right that we need to talk. This was impulsive and we both got caught up in the whole wedding aura cliché. It was a mistake, professionally and personally. And if—” she drew in a shaky breath “—there’s a baby, then that’s all the more reason for us to have already established an uncomplicated relationship.”
“You think it’s that simple? Decide to ignore the attraction and it will evaporate? I’m a man of the land and nature, and I have to disagree with your take on biology.”
“You can disagree all day long but that won’t change my stance.” She pulled her spine straight, her hand trailing up to her hair. Practiced hands smoothed the strands that fell loose, which helped her sift through to
