Goddammit!
Once again, she was getting fucked by David Brenner.
Once in her office, her face hot as hell, she pulled out her cell, dialing David. He didn’t answer, so, she left a voicemail.
“David, something’s come up. Please…call me back. We need to talk.” She sounded worn out, desperate, and why not? She just been handed the world’s rankest pile of shit.
Hoping she’d hear from David pretty soon, she went about straightening up her office—what was once her office, and stacking the files for her current cases on the side of the desk. Melinda, Kilgore’s paralegal, would be in to get them. They were her problem now.
When another ten minutes passed, Diana checked her cell. No calls or texts from David.
Heaving a sigh, she tried again. When he didn’t answer this time, a sliver of unease skittered through her blood.
Was he avoiding her? After sending her those flowers and that note?
What the hell was going on? Give him time to get back to you, maybe he is in a meeting. His life doesn’t revolve around you.
Truth. So why did it feel as though her world was about to collapse into the black hole of David Brenner?
Staring out the window behind his urologist’s desk, David only half listened to the nurse prattling in his ear. It was the same nurse he’d fucked months before and, for the life of him, he couldn’t fathom what he’d seen in her. Certainly, she was pretty enough, but that was where it stopped. She was thin—too thin—her clavicle protruding from her chest above two breasts that were too hard to be real. Plastic. Just like her smile. Fake. Put on to try and seduce him. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. When she—he thought her name was Pamela—followed him into Dr. Branchard’s office, he assumed she’d leave him to wait for the doctor alone. Instead, she closed the door and began her campaign to get into his pants again.
“We had a wild night, didn’t we, David,” she purred, running her hand over his shoulder. He shook her off, ignoring her pout.
“We did,” he admitted dryly. “One night. That’s it.” He pinned her with a hard gaze, hoping she’d get the hint. And why was he not just telling her to kiss off? Well, he could blame Diana for that. Since their first night together, something had begun to take shape within him, and it was suspiciously shaped like thoughtfulness. After she’d abandoned him, he’d spent too long hating that feeling, so much so that he’d begun to wonder what it felt like when he’d done the same to his bedmates. It felt like shit. He hated feeling like shit. So…he did his best to make sure that Pamela wouldn’t feel like shit right now. “It was a pleasure, but I cannot offer you another.”
She continued to pout, anger flashing in her brown eyes. She opened her mouth, probably to curse his existence, but the doctor entering the room saved David from having to experience it.
“David,” Dr. Branchard said, his smile genuine. He reached out and took David’s outstretched hand, shaking it heartily. “I’m glad to see you, though I am surprised.” Branchard turned his bemused gaze on his nurse. “Pamela, thank you for keeping David company.” It was a dismissal, a smooth one. David wondered if he should be taking pointers from his urologist.
Pamela tensed, pressing her mouth in a thin line, before nodding and leaving the office. The door clicked shut behind her, and David let out a breath. Since when had being around pushy women been something to endure?
Since being with Diana was so natural. So…pleasurable—and it wasn’t just the sex. Whenever he was with her, he felt contentment, something he’d never felt with a woman before, even Rinna. With Diana he could laugh, relax, enjoy just being himself. It was addicting. So much so that leaving her that morning had nearly torn him apart. He wanted to stay with her, wrap her in his arms, and make love to her one more time. But he couldn’t let himself fall into her web.
She claimed to be pregnant. With his baby. An impossibility. When he’d first heard of her trip to the obstetrician, he believed she was preparing to launch an attack against him; battling him for money. As Rinna had tried to do. But…when she hadn’t contacted him—or an attorney—he had to sit back and rethink intentions. Since the beginning, Diana had proved to be…difficult. Since their first night together, rather than pander to him, telling him what she thought he wanted to hear, she’d been elusive, almost as though she’d been avoiding him.
And getting her to go to dinner with him had been like pulling teeth. She refused him at every turn, until he’d finally worn her down. Even then, though, she hadn’t asked for anything. She’d simply admitted she was pregnant, he was the father, and that was that. Why hadn’t she asked him for money?
That thought had echoed through his mind, peeling away his resolve.
No. She was like Rinna, wasn’t she? All women were. They only wanted what they could get out of him—they didn’t care about him as a man.
So why had being with Diana felt so good?
Dragging his mind back to the office with Dr. Branchard, David met the man’s inquisitive gaze.
“What brings you here, David?”
Swallowing, David sat back in the comfortable chair across from the doctor.
How did one go about asking what he wanted to ask?
“David?” Branchard arched a bushy white brow. “Is something the matter?”
David let out a heavy breath. “Yes, there is.”
“Oh?”
“I want to know… After my accident, you said that my chances of ever having children were low, that I should consider myself sterile.”
Branchard nodded, his expression lightening with understanding.
“I did say that. Accidents like yours, where the testicles experience that level of torsion, typically result
