Jade

Ugh! Could tonight get any worse? Apparently it could, because another convulsion shook my body and I lost whatever contents remained in my stomach from dinner. Minestrone soup wasn’t fun when it came back up, especially not when it had been paired with a salad.

Make that much, much worse. “Jade? Are you okay?” Lucas’s question was spoken gently through the door, in a tone I hadn’t heard from him since before he turned into an ass and stormed out of our hotel room.

“Do I sound like I’m fine?” I muttered under my breath.

The opening of the door was the only answer I got to a question he couldn’t have possibly heard. Then he was on his knees behind me, one hand bunching my hair at the back of my neck while the other rubbed my back in soothing strokes. Jerky Lucas was hard enough to resist, I couldn’t possibly expect myself to fare any better with this caring version of him. At least I didn’t have to worry about falling victim to the chemistry between us anytime soon, since I felt like death warmed over and probably looked like it too.

When it seemed as though I was done, Lucas helped me to my feet and settled me on the stool in front of the vanity. The freaking vanity! This house was nothing like anywhere I’d ever lived before and I couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the visible signs of wealth all around me. Well except maybe for the gourmet kitchen. It had truly been a joy to cook in there.

My stomach gurgled and I shoved all thoughts of food from my mind while taking the cold washcloth Lucas was handing me. Before I could use it, his hand was on my forehead, checking for a fever. I slapped it away and swiped the washcloth over my face.

“I don’t think you have a fever.” He sounded genuinely concerned. “And I ate the same dinner as you, so I don’t think it’s food poisoning.”

I wished I was lucky enough to have food poisoning. “It’s not.”

“Maybe it was whatever you had for breakfast? That could explain why you were sick in Mr. Wilkinson’s office earlier.”

So could the baby I was beginning to think I was carrying. Not that I was going to tell him that, so I kept my mouth shut and let him continue.

“You should have made something lighter for dinner,” he chided. “As much as I enjoyed the soup, chicken noodle would have been better if your stomach was still upset.”

“Like you’re the expert on what’s good for me,” I mumbled. “You don’t even know me, not really. Or you wouldn’t have said all those horrible things.”

And, yep, those were tears welling in my eyes and streaming down my cheeks. What the heck was wrong with me? Oh, yeah. That’s right. I was tired. I was also nauseous, but somehow hungry at the same time. Plus, I’d been stupid enough to pack a bag and move into the bedroom next to the man I’d let fuck me on a desk in a hoity-toity law office. An office belonging to the man who’d convinced me it wasn’t just in my best interests to stay here but also Lucas’s, and for some insane reason I actually cared. To top it all off, I was more hormonal than I’d ever been in my entire life. Probably because I’d missed my last period, not from the stress of my mother’s death and my upcoming show, as I’d hoped, but due to the fact that I was almost definitely carrying Lucas’s baby.

Who was now my step-brother.

Who I lived with.

In a mansion that I half-owned.

Hysterics, here I came.

Refusing to let him see how much of a mess I was, I kept the washcloth over my face while I tried to calm the heck down. Only Mr. Caring wasn’t having any of that.

“Here, take this,” he said gruffly, pulling the cloth out of my hand. I didn’t look up at his face and instead focused on the toothbrush he was holding out for me. It was the one I’d put into the fancy holder on the marble countertop and he’d squirted some of my toothpaste onto it.

I shoved the brush into my mouth and scrubbed my teeth, avoiding inserting it too far for fear that it would start off another puking session. Once I was satisfied the taste was out of my mouth, I got to my feet and moved to the sink to spit and rinse. Lucas stayed nearby, leaning against the doorframe with his gaze on me the entire time. I finally realized what he was wearing, or um, not wearing, as the case was, since he was naked. I guessed I needed to add horny to the never-ending list of things I was feeling because the sight of his bare chest and other large, hard parts of him, put me straight back into a daze. And then I remembered what I was wearing, a pair of boyfriend shorts and a thin camisole. Cursing my fair coloring as I felt a blush sweep up my skin, I kept my eyes up while I brushed past Lucas and back into my bedroom.

Climbing back into bed, I pulled the covers over my body and kept my eyes on Lucas’s face as he came closer. Don’t look down. Whatever you do, don’t look down!

“I’ll call the family doctor and ask him to come see you first thing in the morning.”

“I’m perfectly capable of making a doctor’s appointment for myself.” Because there was no way in the world I was going to let his doctor examine me. No way, no how.

“Then make one,” he ordered, moving towards the door that connected our rooms. Wait! There was a connecting door to our bedrooms? How had I not noticed this before?

“I will!”

He stopped in the doorway. “And you’d better let me know what the doctor says.”

“Of course I will. Right away, sir.” Liar. If the doctor told me what I thought he was going to tell me, I was going to stall my butt off while I tried to find a way to give Lucas the news.

* * *

“You’re pregnant.”

The doctor’s announcement shouldn’t have come as a surprise considering why I was here, but I was still shocked. The receptionist had taken pity on me when I’d called to schedule and let me take the opening from a cancellation. It was a good thing, too, because I didn’t think Lucas would have let me get away with not seeing his doctor for more than a day. And the last thing I wanted was to have to try to convince some doctor I’d never met to keep my pregnancy a secret until I was ready to talk to Lucas about it.

He already thought I was an opportunist who’d tried to trick him into giving her an art show. And a gold-digger. Apparently, he could add whatever it is people call women who get pregnant on purpose for money to the list. Not that I’d done this on purpose or wanted anything from him. But I was sure he’d see it that way because I’d been subject to his harsh judgment twice before. I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of going through it again. Especially not knowing whether this was going to happen for the rest of my life since we were going to have a child together.

I tried to focus on what the doctor told me about how far along I was and how their office handled pregnancy appointments. I retained maybe half of what she said, scheduled my next appointment and then made it to the safety of my car.

I was pregnant.

I let the thought really sink in. My mom and dad were both dead, and I’d never been close to my extended family since they were spread across the country. My hand cradled my stomach protectively, and I was in awe of the idea that I was going to be a mother.

A baby was growing inside me. One I was going to raise. Someone I’d love unconditionally. A life I’d do anything to protect, starting with whatever it took to fulfill the terms of my step-father’s will to ensure this child had anything they’d ever need, even if Lucas decided he wanted nothing to do with us.

I made a couple stops along the way back to my new home. I tiptoed into the house and softly closed the door behind me, hoping beyond hope that Lucas wouldn’t hear me come in. I had the bag from the pharmacy in one hand, filled with anti-nausea meds and prenatal vitamins. In the other, I had one from the bookstore with several pregnancy books inside. I might not have planned to get pregnant, but I intended to be the best pregnant woman ever now that I knew I was.

“What did the doctor say?” Lucas’s question came out of nowhere.

I turned quickly and found him standing under the archway which separated the foyer from a formal sitting room with a window overlooking the front drive. He must have been waiting for me to get home. I felt the blood drain from my face and grabbed for the doorknob as spots danced in front of my eyes. Crap! What the heck was I going to tell him? And how in the world was I going to stop myself from passing out?