Bound By Their Nine-Month Scandal (The Montero Baby Scandals 3)

“You were right when you said we’re both too smart to be in this position. The excitement of the moment got the better of us. I accept that. But in the cool light of day, you slipped up again and didn’t visit a doctor for a precaution. Given your extensive education, you are way too smart to make such a simple miscalculation.”

She didn’t know where he was going with this, but she felt as though he was peeling layers off her as he did it. She wanted to run, but she had to stand there and act completely bored.

“So?”

“You’re smart, but you’re not experienced.” He spoke in a tone of dawning realization.

“In what way?” Her stomach flipped over as she attempted to maintain her laissez-faire attitude. “The use of birth control? You’re right. It hasn’t come up.”

“No? Why’s that?” He had a look on his face that was both amused and bemused, as if he knew the answer while she still didn’t understand the question.

“Because I haven’t had to use it before.” Obviously.

“Because you were a virgin,” he concluded. He was smiling. Laughing at her. Dios, no.

“Why is that relevant?” she asked, as mortified heat climbed her cheeks.

“Because even with my vast experience, I usually know a woman more than ten minutes before I’m making babies with her. I always know her name.”

The air seemed to crackle and snap between them.

She clenched her teeth, not enjoying hearing about those legions of other women and refusing to examine why. “How many babies do you have?”

“Just the one.” He nodded at her middle.

He seemed to take the opportunity to track his gaze all over her sage-green jacket and its matching skirt. She had chosen the knit skirt because it was comfortable while the jacket’s turned-up collar lent her an air of polished authority.

He took in the rest while he was down there, skimming his gaze to her snakeskin pumps and back to the bronze lace of her camisole between the lapels of her closed jacket, then finally up to her eyes.

He hadn’t even touched her, but she felt restless and lethargic and self-destructive. Ready to abandon sense and propriety all over again.

It was all the reason she needed to reject him. He was far too dangerous, undermining her with a look. She couldn’t live her entire life with that!

“You understand this baby has been conceived?” she asked frostily. “No further action is required.”

He chuckled softly. “The question on the table is whether you want to.”

“I’ve answered. I said, no thank you.”

“Because you want to sleep with the overbred nob your mother has chosen.”

Put that way, she dreaded it, but, “When the alternative is someone who casts aside modesty or decorum, I struggle to see the strength in your argument.”

“I usually have enough decency not to have sex in public, but neither of us showed much decorum or restraint, did we? You gave up your virginity. It’s very rare for couples to react the way we do, you know.”

“Current levels of overpopulation lead me to believe lust is fairly common,” she murmured with another examination of her nails.

“Not this kind of lust. It’s extraordinary. Do you need another sample?”

His hand started to come up and she dropped her own, jerking back a step beyond his reach.

He scratched his cheek as he chuckled. “So jumpy.”

She smoothed her embarrassed irritation from her brow. “Deep emotions, such as lust, are detrimental to a comfortable life. Destructive, even. As we’ve demonstrated.”

“The damage is done, querida.”

“So let’s not compound it.”