The Secretary's Secret

Looks as if you’l need to find a new place to rent.’

‘I’m not renting, Alex.’ Kit wanted to sink to the floor amid al the chaos and rest for a bit. ‘I’ve bought this house. It belongs to me.’

Alex pushed his jacket back to plant his hands on his hips. ‘How the hel does one buy a house in just three weeks?’

‘Private sale.’ Her hands rested in the smal of her back as she grimaced and stretched. ‘We rushed it through.’

The owners had seen her coming a mile off. ‘At least tel me you had a building inspection done.’

‘The previous owners told me it was fine. The real estate agent said he could vouch for them personal y.’

‘Did you get anything in writing?’

He knew the answer before she shook her head.

How could a woman so savvy and efficient in dealing with demanding clients and difficult staff make such an elementary mistake? His gaze drifted to her waist and his lips thinned.

She rested her hands on her knees and only then did he notice how unwel she looked. Pregnant women, they threw up a lot, right? He grimaced at the reminder of his own behaviour earlier. ‘Kit, are you going to be sick?’

‘Don’t think so,’ she mumbled.

She straightened. He noticed the way her hand went to the smal of her back as if trying to massage away a pain there. He did a rough calculation. If he were the father, Kit would be nearly four months into her pregnancy. He couldn’t remember when Jacqueline had started getting back pain. He was pretty sure it was later than four months. ‘Are you sure you’re feeling al right?’

‘I’m pregnant,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t have some disease!’

He figured he deserved that, but…he real y didn’t like her colour.

‘And it’s been a great day,’ she continued. ‘The father of my child throws up when I tel him the happy news and now I have a hole not only in my wal but, if what you are tel ing me is true, in my roof too! You know what, Alex? I’m feeling on top of the world right now.’

She had a point. Several, in fact. Rather valid points at that. He couldn’t help it. He glanced at her waist again. As far as he could tel , there wasn’t any change there at al .

Perhaps this could turn out to be a glorious mistake?

He glanced at the hole in the wal and knew he was grasping at straws. Kit had a hole in her wal and she was pregnant.

He was in the middle of a nightmare.

He was going to suffocate. Al the plaster dust in the room felt as if it had lodged in his throat. He didn’t do kids. He didn’t do family. He wanted out of here.

He dragged in a hoarse gasp of air and closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. Kit had told him he could walk away.

He wanted to run, escape, as fast as he could.

He wanted to stampede for the door. Charge through it and never come back.

He opened his eyes, glanced at the door and then glanced at Kit, who’d backed up to perch on the edge of the nearest sofa, which was stil wrapped in the heavy-duty plastic it had arrived in. He frowned as he looked at her more closely. One moment she was pale, the next she was flushed. Before he had time to think better of it, he reached out and rested the back of his hand against her forehead.

She slapped it away. Glared. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

She was burning up!

He dragged a hand back through his hair. His retreat was moving further and further out of reach.

He could almost feel it slipping through his fingers like water…or plaster dust.

‘You’re running a temperature.’ Hel ! He couldn’t leave a sick woman to fend for herself. ‘Come on.

leave a sick woman to fend for herself. ‘Come on.

You need a doctor to check you over. I’l take you up to the hospital.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’

By rights, her glare should’ve withered him to the spot. He sat next to her, he was careful not to touch her. ‘You’re not feeling wel , Kit, and you’re running a temperature so you can be excused for making poor judgement cal s.’

‘Poor judge—’

‘But do you real y want to take the risk that a high temperature might harm your baby?’

‘Oh!’

Her bottom lip wobbled and one of her hands moved to cradle her abdomen. That action told him exactly how much this baby meant to her. For a moment he had to fight the nausea that punched through him again.

‘You real y think I’m running a temperature?’

‘I know it.’

‘Okay,’ she final y whispered. ‘But not the hospital, the medical clinic.’