Brazilian's Nine Months' Notice

‘I made enquiries to find out when your shift ended,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Are you satisfied now that you’ve completely exhausted yourself?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You’re not fine, Emma.’ Opening the passenger door, he stood waiting for her to get in.

‘What?’ She couldn’t even form the words. She was too tired to think.

Luc shook his head. ‘We both know that what you’re doing is against all regulations. The hotel could be fined for abusing its staff with these overly long hours, and then you really will be out of a job. Working through the night?’ he said, his frown deepening. ‘What are you trying to prove, Emma?’

‘I’m not trying to prove anything,’ she insisted.

Powerful arms folded across his rugged jacket, Luc disagreed. ‘You’d better get in,’ he said, ‘before you freeze to death.’

And still she hesitated. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘What’s to understand, Emma?’

‘Why are you waiting for me? I don’t need a lift. I can walk into town.’

‘Get in,’ Luc repeated. ‘I won’t tell you again.’

CHAPTER FOUR

HE WASN’T JOKING. He practically lifted her into the car. She was glad of it. The pavements were icy—another thing the hotel had let slip. All the other parts of the pavement had been salted, but not here—they were treacherous, for guests, and for old folk in particular.

And for pregnant women, Emma reminded herself as Lucas settled her in the car. He even fastened the seat belt for her before closing the door, as if he knew how cold she was, and how exhausted. Walking around the sleek black vehicle, he got in and made himself comfortable on cream kidskin. She wasn’t so tired she didn’t notice that in jeans and rugged boots, with a jacket that emphasised the width of his shoulders, Luc looked like the perfect port in a storm.

At least this particular storm, Emma amended as she gazed up into the snow-dappled air. She hadn’t realised how cold she had become until now, when she was safely enclosed in the warm interior of Luc’s luxury vehicle—every part of which called for wool or cashmere or alpaca, rather than a cheap nylon uniform beneath a thin, shabby coat. ‘You don’t have to do this,’ she protested, suddenly self-conscious. She was having second thoughts as he pulled away from the kerb, thinking the type of place Luc would take her to for breakfast could only make her feel worse.

‘You’re going to eat and so am I,’ he said. ‘It would be churlish of me not to offer you a lift. I didn’t fancy eating in a packed dining room or in my suite today.’ He shrugged as he turned on the engine and moved into the stream of traffic heading into town. ‘And you look as if you need a lift,’ he added glancing at her.

‘Thanks,’ she said drily.

‘I’m going to buy you breakfast. Get used to it, Emma.’

‘I can buy my own breakfast.’

With a groan, he heaved a sigh. ‘Emma, please... Allow me to do this one small thing for you.’

‘But you don’t need to.’

‘I know that, but I want to.’ Luc flashed a glance at her. ‘If you’re still embarrassed about what happened in London, please don’t be. This is just breakfast with a friend. Okay?’

If only.

‘I’m not embarrassed,’ she said, attempting a casual shrug.

‘So relax.’

Luc turned on some music—easy listening, soothing and low, but still she couldn’t relax as she tried to work out if there was enough time to tell him before they arrived in town. The longer she left it the harder it would be, but she’d had this dream that when she did tell him, they’d be relaxed with all the time in the world to talk things over. And, more importantly, she’d be on top form, with every argument for keeping the baby with her at her fingertips. Telling him now, when she was so tired, was a recipe for disaster.

‘Stop,’ he said, when she raked her hair with her fingers, trying to improve her bedraggled appearance. ‘You look great.’

‘What? Like this?’ From somewhere she found a laugh. ‘I need a bath. I need to sleep. I need a miracle,’ she finished wryly.

Luc glanced at her. ‘At least you’ve got enough energy to smile.’

‘Just,’ she admitted ruefully.

‘You’ll feel better once you’ve had something to eat.’