âThat kiss had nothing to do with technique.â
âNoâit was about power! About winning. Because you canât bear to lose. Especially to a woman.â
Judd took a long, shuddering breath. âMaybe it was about feelings.â
She wasnât going to go there, not with Judd, so she said, âMaybe it was about ownership.â
But the bitterness in his voice had shocked Lise. If she werenât pregnant by him, might she have softened, asked him what he meant by âfeelingsâ? But all her intuition screamed that if Judd knew she was pregnant, he would insist on marrying herâbecause it was his child she was carrying.
His. Ownership indeed.
Relax and enjoy our fabulous series about couples whose passion results in pregnanciesâ¦sometimes unexpected! Of course, the birth of a baby is always a joyful event, and we can guarantee that our characters will become besotted moms and dadsâbut what happened in those nine months before?
Share the surprises, emotions, drama and suspense as our parents-to-be come to terms with the prospect of bringing a new life into the world. All will discover that the business of making babies brings with it the most special love of allâ¦.
Look out for another EXPECTING! title,
coming soon!
The Pregnant Bride
by Catherine Spencer
#2269 on sale August
THERE was a woman in the bed.
An astonishingly beautiful woman.
Judd Harwood stood still, gazing at the sleeping figure under the white hospital bedspread. He must have the wrong room. It was a man he was looking for, not a woman. Yet instead of leaving and asking someone for better directions, Judd stayed exactly where he was, his slate-gray eyes focused on the bedâs occupant. Her right shoulder and upper arm were swathed in an ice pack. Her face was very pale; the livid bruise marring the sweet curve of her jawline stood out in sharp contrast to the creamy skin. Had she been in a car accident, or fallen on the ice encrusting the city streets? Or had it been something worse? Surely she hadnât been assaulted.
His fists curled at his sides in impotent anger. Could it have been her husband? Her lover? Heâd flatten the bastard if he ever got his hands on him. Flatten him and ask questions afterward. And how was that for a crazy reaction? A woman heâd never even met, knew nothing about.
He wasnât into protecting strange women. He had better things to do with his time.
His jaw a hard line, Judd continued his scrutiny. The womanâs brows were delicate as wings, her cheekbones softly hollowed; he found himself longing to stroke the silken slope from the corner of her eye to the corner of her mouth. An infinitely kissable mouth, he thought, his own mouth dry. Her eyes were closed; he found himself intensely curious to know what color they were. Gray as storm clouds? The rich brown of wet earth? Her hair was red, although that word in no way did justice to a tumble of curls vivid as flame.
Flameâ¦
Blanking from his mind a surge of nightmare images, Judd gave himself a shake. He didnât have the time for this; he needed to find the fireman whoâd saved Emmy. Thank him as best he could and then go back to his daughterâs bedside. Emmy was sedated, the doctor had assured him of that, and wouldnât wake for hours. But Judd wasnât taking any chances.
So why was he still standing here?
Scowling, purposely not looking for the womanâs name on the chart at the foot of the bed, Judd strode out of the room. A nurse was hurrying toward him, her flowered uniform a splash of color in the bare corridor. He said, âExcuse meâIâm looking for the fireman who was admitted earlier this eveningâ¦he rescued my daughter and I need to thank him. But I donât even know his name.â
The nurse gave him an harassed smile. âActually it was a woman,â she said. âI donât believeââ
âA woman?â Judd repeated blankly.
âThatâs right.â Her smile was a shade less friendly. âThey do have women on the fire and rescue squads, you know. Room 214. Although I donât believe sheâs recovered consciousness yet.â
Room 214 was the room heâd already been in. The room with the woman lying so still on the bed. Trying to regain some semblance of his normal self-control, Judd said abruptly, âI shouldnât have made the assumption it was a man. Thanks for your help.â
âIf you need to talk to her, tomorrow would be better. She wonât be released before midmorning.â
âOkayâthanks again.â
The nurse disappeared into a room across the hall. Slowly Judd walked back into Room 214. The woman was lying exactly as she had been a few moments ago, the smooth line of the sheet rising and falling gently with her breathing. He walked closer to the bed, staring at her as though he could imprint every aspect of her appearance in his mind, teased by a strange sense that she resembled someone he knew. But who? He couldnât put a finger on it, and he prided himself on his memory. Surely heâd never seen her before; he could scarcely have forgotten her. The purity of her bone structure. The gentle jut of her wrist bones. Her long, capable fingers, curled defencelessly on the woven coverlet.