The Price Of Scandal(111)

“It’s not going to bite,” he teased me.

“This is big, Derek.”

“That’s what she said.”

“You need to take that back immediately because I am not recounting that to our children when they ask how we got engaged,” I warned him.

“You can’t say yes already, not without at least reading the agreement.”

I skimmed the first few sentences. “Derek, this is a prenup.”

Had I finally found the limit to the man’s perfection? Was he a solid shoulder to lean on, a best friend to be counted on, a maestro of orgasms, but a horrible proposer of marriage?

He leaned on the work table, the picture of casual confidence in one of the many refined suits that now hung in our closet in Bluewater. “It would appear so.”

“Are you proposing to me with a prenup? Because if so, I really expected something more stylish.”

“You were expecting my proposal?” he asked, eyebrows winging up in innocence.

“I woke up two months ago with you measuring my ring finger.”

“Read the agreement, Emily,” he insisted.

“You better have something pretty great up that tailored sleeve of yours,” I teased. “Or else I’m going to tell everyone that you’re only human after all.”

Helpfully, he shoved the papers upward until they were an inch from my nose. “Read, please.”

I cleared my throat, choosing a section at random.

“Both parties agree that marital disputes will be settled in the ring,” I read with a laugh. “The ring?”

“No hitting below the belt, love.” His eyes weren’t just warm, they were scorching. “Keep going.”

With a slightly shakier voice, I pressed on. “Both parties agree to do everything in their power to love, honor, and support the other including but not limited to date nights, enjoying occasional meals during which no work is discussed by either party, counseling or mediation if needed if conflicts aren’t settled in the ring.”

“Derek promises to keep annoying business and social functions to a minimum for Emily.”

“Emily promises to always let Derek cut her hair.”

“Derek promises to fill Emily’s dining room table on holidays,” I read, my voice breaking. I loved this man beyond words.

He took the papers from me. “Emily promises to always tell Derek when she’s stressed and what she needs from him,” he read, with one hand stroking my back.

I blinked back tears.

“Both parties agree to do whatever it takes to stay together and to fulfill each other’s dreams,” he said, his voice raspy now.

“This will never hold up in court,” I said on a choked laugh.

“It’s not for court. It’s for a much stricter judge,” Derek said, drawing me into his arms. “Us.”

“I love you, Derek,” I whispered.

“And I love you, Emily. You continue to dazzle me every day. Now, would you like to see your signing bonus?”

He plucked the box from the table.

“Wait,” I said. “I have a signing bonus of my own.”

“What’s that, love?”

“How do you feel about being a father?”

“I’ll be thoroughly excited when the time comes,” he promised. “I want a family with you, Emily. I want to raise a new generation of pick-pocketing scientists.”

“Good, because we’re going to get our first crack at parenthood in about thirty-six weeks.”

He blinked.

“What?”

“That’s what I was doing in here today,” I said, gesturing toward the microscope.

His brow furrowed. “Good God. You didn’t make us some sort of test tube clone baby, did you?”

I laughed. “Don’t be an incredibly handsome idiot. I just ran the blood test myself.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” His fingers tightened on my arms. “We’re having a baby?”

I nodded, tears still clouding my vision.

“I think I need to sit down.”

I pushed him into the stool I’d vacated. “Are you all right?” I asked.

He nodded, then kept nodding, stars in his eyes. “What an adventure we’ll have together,” he said. “Of course, we’ll have to sell your Porsche and get a bulletproof minivan.”

“Oh, of course,” I agreed.

He slid his hands inside my lab coat and reverently placed his palms over my stomach. “How do you feel?”

“Elated. Terrified. Surprised. Hungry.”

“How are the intestines?” he asked.

“No troubles since the day we walked out of Flawless,” I said smugly.

“My parents are going to be over the moon to meet this little one,” he said, gaze lifting to meet mine.

“At least we can count on a positive reaction from one set of parents,” I quipped. I had a tenuous truce with my mother that no longer required me to bend to her whims and revoked her right to criticize me. We still didn’t spend holidays together. But that was just fine with me.

“Maybe your mother will welcome our impending nuptials and baby news as a distraction from trying to rake your father over the coals in divorce court.”