Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(93)

She’d have to quit before she got to that point.

Because the only other option was to terminate the pregnancy. Everything inside her rejected the idea. My baby. And Ben’s. Ours. Warmth filled her as she thought of what the combination of genes might produce. Norwegian and French—nice mixture.

How was she going to tell Ben? She pushed to her feet and walked out onto the balcony. The morning was foggy and still. Grayness covered the world, blurred the shore, erased the horizon. Invisible waves hissed on the beach.

“Ben, my dear. You’re going to be a father.” She leaned her forearms on the railing and imagined his reaction.

He wouldn’t be furious. And he liked children.

The problem was their relationship. Because he was uncomfortable with being her slave. Her hand rubbed her sternum, trying to ease the ache beneath it.

He wasn’t happy.

He’d told her he was doing good. That he loved being her slave, but…did he? Really? He’d reassured her enough earlier that she’d overlooked the signs—because she hadn’t wanted to see them. Because she was a coward.

In bed, they had no problems whatsoever. The rest of the time…he was struggling.

If she told him that she was pregnant, he’d turn protective and demand to marry her. Insist on taking care of her. He’d stay.

But…she swallowed against the thickness growing in her throat. She didn’t want him if he married her just for the baby. She’d seen parents who’d remained together for a child’s sake, and all the child saw was dislike and coldness. Not love.

Better to be separate.

A chilled sea breeze whipped at her clothes and blew her hair into her face. She pushed the damp strands away, feeling the worries piling up. They were so new, she and Ben. Too new to make decisions like this.

He should be able to choose her—just her—without the pressure of a baby or her family’s expectations or his own principles.

She loved him. Oh God, she really did. She wanted to be with him forever. Needed him in her life. But love meant she also wanted the best for him.

She mustn’t mess up his life with her wants and wishes.

He’d never said he loved her.

Well, she hadn’t told him either. Fair was fair. She frowned, trying to think of why it seemed worse that he hadn’t. Maybe because Ben didn’t hold things back, so if he did love her, he would have said so. For a Dominant to say it first—when she wasn’t certain of her submissive—felt like coercion.

Did he love her?

She wasn’t…sure. She blinked quickly against the prickling in her eyes. He acted as if he did, but this was Ben, who always cared for the people he’d taken on and who found joy in looking after his family and his Domme.

Even if he did love her, they hadn’t proven they could live together, had they?

No, they hadn’t.

She looked down at her stomach. “Sorry, baby. But you need to keep quiet for a bit longer. Your daddy should have a chance to decide if he can stand me before he has to deal with an us.

What if he couldn’t?

Far behind the clouds, the sun remained hidden. The thick fog dampened her skin, engulfing her in mist. She couldn’t see anything—let alone what was coming.

Everything in her wanted to share, to tell Ben, her family, everyone. To rejoice.

But…not yet. Be fair, Anne. Give the man time. Surely she could stay in control and simply take each moment as it came.

Maybe, maybe it would all work out.

Please, God, let it work out.





Chapter Twenty-Three



As the sun glimmered its last rays on the horizon, Ben walked through Anne’s house, filled with dread. Even as his heart rose in anticipation of seeing her, the rest of him was tense as hell because he just knew this was going to turn into a clusterf*ck. His stomach felt like he’d lunched on ground glass instead of McD’s.

When she’d hauled ass out of his bed on Sunday and said she needed a break from him, she’d given him no other f*cking explanation. As if he didn’t deserve to know anything. As if he wasn’t anything more than a slave. As if he had no right to anything more than a command.

He’d known then that Raoul was correct. He had to man up and tell her the slavery shit wasn’t working.

He’d gotten his head around the appropriately diplomatic words and had been ready to talk with her on Monday.

And then one of his Ranger buddies had returned Stateside and needed support, so he’d spent Monday and most of today there. The diplomatic words had disappeared from his brain. So had his courage. He was tired, dammit.

Maybe he should delay the “discussion” until tomorrow?

He walked onto Anne’s deck to see her on the long swing, talking on the phone. Her saxophone leaned against her legs.

“I’m so glad you called,” Anne was saying. She looked up and her smile wavered when she saw him. Tears had turned her eyes a rainy gray as she swiped the phone to off.

Concerned, he sat beside her and took her hand.

Automatically, she frowned at their hands and glanced at the deck. She wanted him to kneel.

Although his gut clenched, he stayed where he was. “Problems? Bad news?”

“No. Happy news. Kim agreed to marry Raoul. They’re engaged.”

So the little slave was going to be a wife as well. Good job, Raoul. “Andrea and Cullen are engaged, too.” The Shadowlands’ Masters were falling fast. “So, more weddings this summer?”