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“And—and everything seems fine?”

“Perfectly fine”

Laurel gazed down at her hands, which were linked carefully in her lap “If I should decide I mean, if I were to”

The doctor’s voice was even h, my dear”

Laurel nodded and rose to her feet Suddenly she felt a thousand years old

“Thank you, Doctor”

The gynecologist rose, too She cahtly around Laurel’s shoulders

“I knohat an enormous decision this is,” she said “If you need someone to talk to, my service can always reach me”

A baby, Laurel thought as she rode down in the elevator to the building’s lobby A child of her flesh Hers, and Damian’s

Babies were supposed to be conceived in love, not in the throes of a passion that made no sense, a passion so out of character that she’d tried to put it out of her ed In the ht, she’d suddenly think of what she’d done and hate herself for it

But at night, with thethe shadows, she dreale of sheets, with the memory of his kisses still hot on her lips

Laurel gave herself a little shake This wasn’t the time for that kind of nonsense There were decisions to be h the only practical one was self-evident There was no rooh Her life was too unsettled, ith her career winding down and an uncertain future ahead And then there was the biggest consideration of all Dr Glassht think it old-fashioned but it was true Children were entitled to at least begin life with two parents

The elevator door slid open and she stepped out into the lobby Her high heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she made her way toward the exit

A baby A soft, sweet-sles A child, to lavish love upon To warive purpose to her existence Her throat constricted A part of Damian that would be hers forever

She paused outside the building, while an unseasonable wind ruffled her hair Gue from the New York Times flapped at her feet in the throes of a mini-tornado

What was the point in torturing herself? She wasn’t about to have this baby Hadn’t she already decided that? Her reasoning was sound; it was logical It was—

“Laurel?”

Her heart stumbled She knew the voice instantly; she’d heard it in her drea, tortured weeks Still, she tried to tell herself that it couldn’t be Daain, especially now

“Laurel”

Oh God, she thought, and she turned toward the curb and saw hio transported her frorow stronger Her vision blurred and she began to sway unsteadily

And then

she was falling, falling, and only Da her to safety

CHAPTER SEVEN

WHAT KIND OF MAN wanted a woman who’d made it clear she didn’t want him?

Only a man as a damned fool, and Damian had never counted himself as such

And yet, four weeks after Laurel Bennett had slept in his arms and then walked out of his life, he had not been able to forget her

He dreamed of her—hot, erotic dreaht of her during the least expected e hisinvolved with someone else, it hadn’t worked He had wined and dined half a dozen of New York’sthe pastpuzzled, disappointed and alone

It was stupid, and it angered hi lost opportunities or dreauided his life since childhood; why should it fail him now? Laurel hat his financial people would have tereous woman with a hot body and an icy heart She’d used him the way he’d used women in the past

So how coet her out of his head?

It was a question without an answer, and it was gnawing at him as his car pulled to the curb before the skyscraper that housed his corporate head quarterswhich hen he first saw her, he wondered if he’d gone coe But this was no hallucination Laurel was real, she was co—and she was even more beautiful than he’d remembered

He stepped onto the sidewalk and hesitated What now? Should he wait for her to notice hi to say to her, really; still, he wanted to talk to her Hell, he wanted o to her, take her in his ar her bottom lip until her mouth opened to his

Dalow on her cheeks couldn’t hide the fact that her face was pale She see there while pedestrians flowed around her like a streaainst an immutable rock

Da!

He started toward her “Laurel?”

She had to be ill She’d never cry, otherwise; he knew it instinctively His belly knotted