The minute she walked through the door, Danielle knew the Houston Women’s Clinic was not a doctor’s office for colds and viruses. It was a female clinic in every sense of the word.

Samuel hadn’t said much on the drive over. He knew. He knew he was bringing her to a gynecologist. Surely, he didn’t think she was seeing a primary care doctor here? If he did, he was desperately misinformed.

“Have you been here before?” She stepped into the elevator and waited while he pressed the button. With his lack of hesitation in guiding them to the fourth floor, she already knew the answer to her question.

“Yes.” He glanced at her, then stared at the elevator door. “My younger sister got divorced shortly after becoming pregnant, so I came with her to all her appointments.

“Ah-ha!”

He turned and looked at her quizzically. “Ah-ha what?”

Danielle got in line to check in. “You knew,” she hissed. She took the clipboard from the clerk, and he followed her to a secluded area of the waiting room.

“I knew what?” He nudged her elbow when she quietly began writing in her name.

She looked up beneath her lashes. His gaze locked onto hers now. She squinted, unsure how she felt about the fact that he had brought her to a gynecologist when she’d thought he’d made an appointment for her with a family doctor.

“Samuel.” She stood the clipboard on her knees. Nodded toward the waiting room. There were no one but females, and two of them were clearly pregnant. She leaned toward him. Whispered. “Do you think I’m pregnant?”

He ran his hands along his thighs, keeping his eyes straight ahead. “I don’t know.”

She lowered her head and focused on the paperwork, letting her hair cascade around her face. She bit her lip as she filled in her address and date of birth.

He turned back to her. “Is it possible?”

She bit her lip and focused on family history. Nothing to report. All were healthy.

Is it possible?

That was the question that had been darting around her mind all morning.

She had to admit that, yes, it was possible.

The other question was whether it was likely.

She turned the page and signed her name at the bottom of the form.

Without looking at Samuel, she stood up and took the clipboard to the reception desk. Then she turned and went back to sit next to Samuel and began digging in her handbag for her lip gloss.

She felt him staring at her. Waiting.

Waiting for her to reveal whether or not she’d been sexually active. And pregnant. If not pregnant, she had some kind of terrible disease. Even as she sat there, avoiding answering Samuel’s pointed question, she felt sick. Again.

She heaved a sigh. And turned to face him.

At least he was looking at her again. “I don’t know,” she shrugged.

He scowled. “How can you not know?” He sat back, a knowing expression forming on his face. “If you don’t know, that means it’s possible.”

“I don’t know can mean a lot of things,” Danielle said as her phone chimed, indicating a Facebook message. It was from Isabella Quinn, her author client who was waiting for a cover. Her only author client at the moment.

She read the message and rolled her eyes. “That’s never going to happen.”

“What?”

“The author wants the couple on her cover to be kissing.”

Samuel laughed. “So? It’s a romance cover.”

“Jacob and Avery can’t stand the sight of each other, much less to kiss.”

“You said they worked well together, they’ll just see it as a normal part of their job. Like any actor.”

“You’re right,” she said, messaging Isabella back. We have another shoot tomorrow. I’ll make it happen.

“Danielle Worthington.” A nurse called her name.

Danielle stood up and held out her hand to Samuel. “Come on,” she insisted.

He didn’t move.

“It’s okay,” the nurse said. “We welcome husbands.”

“I’m not…” Samuel began, but blew out his breath and took her hand.

Danielle smiled at the nurse as she went through the door and followed the nurse to the exam room.