Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(92)

They needed to talk. Soon. But right now, his head was still on the fuzzy side. Discussions could wait. With a sigh, Ben contented himself with being close.

After a minute, he realized Raoul was watching them and frowning. Probably because he saw one well-used guy wearing only jeans, hair loose, with a bite mark on his neck. In contrast, Anne was perfectly made up and clean.

It undoubtedly looked as if she’d worked him over good without breaking a sweat. Without getting involved in the least.

He laughed silently. She looked so put together because she’d popped into the shower and cleaned up. In fact, she’d given him a half-smile as she did so, saying, “I have to uphold the honor of all Mistresses everywhere.”

He could have joined her, but his legs had felt like over-stretched rubberbands. And when she’d run her hands over his damp chest and said she’d enjoy showing off her sweaty submissive, he’d have denied her nothing.

Uzuri returned with their drinks.

Anne took the beer—a Brooklyn Lager—put it into Ben’s hand and accepted the water. “Thank you, Uzuri.”

As Anne fed him the food, taking only a few bites for herself, she, Galen, and Vance discussed search techniques, software she preferred for skip tracing, and tricks used in changing identities.

In a comfortable haze, Ben drank his beer. At some point, he realized he was leaning with all his weight against her legs—strong woman—while her fingertips traced patterns on his shoulders.

Yeah, he liked right where he was. And he’d think about the rest when his head was on straight.





Chapter Twenty-Two



Anne stood in her bathroom the next morning, counting off seconds as she watched the strip from the pregnancy kit.

Misery burned in her gut when she thought of the way she’d left Ben earlier.

He’d still been half-asleep when she’d slid out of his bed, kissed him, and told him she needed some quiet “alone” time. And that she’d see him on Monday.

“What the f*ck?” he’d said. Waking completely, he’d tried to grab her hand, but she stepped away and firmed her resolve. Pulled on her Domme armor.

“Tomorrow, Benjamin,” she’d said firmly. The unhappiness in his eyes had hurt her heart. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

She hadn’t had any excuses to offer him…because she’d wanted to do this test first. No need to worry him if she was completely off base.

Biting her lip, her stomach in knots, she watched the colors shift on the are-you-or-aren’t-you strip. Even before the final second, she knew the result.

Oh, she really, really was.

Pregnant.

No question at all about those colors. Her legs shook as she crossed her bedroom and sank down on the fainting couch. It was a well-named piece of furniture.

For long minutes, she just sat there. Stunned stupid.

Outside her bedroom window, a gull screeched its laugh.

“I’m missing the humor in this, bird.” How in the world could she be pregnant? She was on birth control. She never missed a pill. Ever.

Then realization hit like a body slam. Ever…except that time when she got a stomach bug and puked her guts out. Three days’ worth of throwing up. Three days of no pills.

Ben was the only man she’d been with then. But, dammit, he’d worn a condom.

Except…

As dismay filled her, she dropped her head into her hands. That first time they’d been together, he’d entered her and yanked back out in a hurry. After sheathing himself, he’d continued, and neither of them had thought much about it. After all, they were both tested at the Shadowlands…and she was on the pill.

Just shoot me now.

But surely she’d had a period after that. Back in April, right? Her lips pressed together. Actually, she hadn’t experienced more than a few cramps and some spotting—enough to make her think she’d had one.

How far along was she then? She frowned. Z’s Sophia was born at the end of March and that was when she and Ben had first had sex. This was May.

She was six weeks pregnant? No way.

Way. Her hand cupped her stomach as she gulped.

No wonder she’d been unable to summon any appetite for breakfast over the past week and had made up for the lack by eating like gangbusters later in the day. She was pregnant.

I’m going to have a baby.

As exhilaration swept through her, the room seemed to brighten. And then anxiety slid cold fingers up her spine. Because this was wrong. She wasn’t married. Wasn’t prepared.

A rueful laugh escaped. Here she’d been terrified of change and carefully guarded her structured life. Looked as if structure had flown right out the window.

She was going to be a single mother. This was just…impossible. She swallowed hard. How could she tell Ben? Or her family?

Daddy would have a cow.

Mom would… Later today, she’d planned to visit her mother to wish her Happy Mother’s Day. Now there was irony. “Happy Grandmother’s Day, Mom.”

But Mom would deal. And after the shock was over, she’d be wonderful.

What about work? Anne closed her hands on the cushion and stared at the wall. Stared at the image of her, heavy with child, chasing after a fugitive. Her job was not a good…fit…for a pregnant woman.

Oh God, what a total mess.