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The Pregnancy Project
The Pregnancy Project
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The Pregnancy Project

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Surprisingly, he flashed a smile. “Because four gives you better odds of getting an accurate result.”

“You know me so well,” she joked automatically, but when his jaw tightened, she wished she hadn’t said it.

“I’m hoping to learn more,” he returned cryptically. “How did it feel? When you saw that it was positive?”

So many things had flooded her chest in that instant. How did she catalogue them for someone else—and a man at that? “The clearest sense of awe. Glee. Accomplishment.”

She’d picked the right donor, clearly, since the procedure had worked the first time. Of course she had. She’d done extensive research into genetics, legalities, odds—and Dr. Tomas Cardoza had been the obvious choice. Tomas had two doctorates, impressive Spanish ancestry and dark skin that would hopefully guarantee her child wouldn’t have to slather on as much sunscreen as its Irish mother. He’d agreed to be her donor, including signing away any paternal rights, and that was that.

Somehow, she didn’t think Dante would appreciate those details.

“I hate this.” She set her mug down and swiveled to face him, one leg bent underneath her. “I feel like I’m walking on eggshells, like I have to watch what I say or it’ll start another fight.”

He cocked his head. “Another fight? We’re not fighting. Are we?”

“Well...yeah. Earlier. When I told you I was pregnant. That was a fight.” Wasn’t it? He’d been so angry and disappointed in her.

“It was a conversation,” he corrected and set his own mug down in favor of taking her hand, holding it tight as he caught her gaze. “About something going on in your life. I didn’t handle it well. You surprised me, that’s all. But I care about you and want to know everything. It’s not okay that you think you have to hold one single thing back.”

Warmth spread across her palm, feathering outward. She stared at Dante and all at once, he morphed back into the man she’d loved for ten years. And then the warmth climbed into her chest as he smiled at her. It was so normal—and such a relief—she nearly wept.

Except she was changing things. That was really her biggest fear, that she’d irrevocably damaged their relationship by getting pregnant. She and Dante told each other chemistry jokes and talked about quantum mechanics, not diapers and breastfeeding.

She centered herself with a string of biofeedback techniques. Everything was going to be okay.

“Then I want to start over. Dante, I’m pregnant.”

His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise, bless him. “That’s fantastic news. Congratulations. I can’t wait to meet the little version of you swimming around in there.”

And that, against all odds, made the whole thing real.

She had a life growing in her womb. A baby. One that would be hers and hers alone, who would be a brilliant addition to the world of science from an early age. She would raise him or her with all the best educational opportunities and be this baby’s everything, since she’d be a single parent.

That was when the panic started.

It was a baby. A helpless tiny thing who couldn’t communicate its needs. She’d have to figure it out. By herself. The flutter behind her breastbone grew nearly audible. And then she realized that was the sound of her heightened pulse thundering in her ears.

Breathe. And again. She’d wanted it this way. Love between mother and child was absolute. Preordained. There was no potential for error, like there was when romance entered the picture, confusing everything with signals her brain couldn’t interpret. Thus, this baby would fill a need in her life that no man could ever hope to. She’d never be lonely again, yearning for something she couldn’t quite put a name to.

Plus, it would solidify her place among her business partners who valued the institution of motherhood. Or at least Alex and Cass did. Trinity had and always would march to the beat of her own drum, but regardless, she and Harper had long agreed about the value of a permanent man in their lives—zero.

Except this one. She squeezed Dante’s hand and swallowed. “I’m scared.”

“What? Why?” Clearly puzzled, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smoothed it back, exactly as she’d envisioned he would when she admitted her fears. “You’re the most capable woman I’ve ever met. You’ve got this, hands down.”

“There’s some...other stuff going on. Fyra is in trouble.”

“What’s going on?” he asked softly. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.”

The thick bands around her chest loosened. She’d come to LA precisely because Dante was the one person in her life she could turn to. If she could just talk about it, maybe a plan would come to her, some way to haul herself out of the professional hole she’d fallen into. Then the pregnancy decision wouldn’t seem so...ill-timed.

“Something happened with Fyra’s FDA approval for Formula-47,” she blurted out. A sudden burning behind her eyes mortified her. She never cried. Was this how it was going to be then? Emotions out the wazoo around the clock?

“What? Tell me,” he demanded instantly.

Formula-47 had been her first baby, conceived and crafted in her lab with one sole purpose—to heal scars and wrinkles better than plastic surgery because it used revolutionary nanotechnology that she’d developed. It was brilliant. And it might never see the light of day.

No. She would fix it.

She took a deep breath. “Phillip—Senator Edgewood—you know how I told you he was helping us grease the FDA wheels in Washington?”

“Sure, because you’re releasing your first product that requires FDA approval. I remember.”

“The committee suspended the request.”

It was nearly the worst moment of her life to hear those words come out of Phillip’s mouth. The process should have been easy. Submit an application for approval for Formula-47, which she’d poured two years of her life into perfecting, give the committee a tour of the lab, explain her formulary methodology, send samples and research. Done. Approval to sell the formula as a product would be in the bag.

Nothing had gone according to plan.

“What?” Dante’s expression mirrored the righteous indignation of his tone. “Why would they suspend the request?”

“They had questions about my samples. And my lab.”

The expletive Dante muttered made her smile.

“Your methods are beyond reproach,” he groused. “How dare they question anything about your lab.”

She couldn’t help but revel in his unconditional support, which was precisely what she’d come for. None of her partners really understood what the allegations had meant to her professionally. Personally.

Dante got it. Understood instantly why the whole thing felt like someone had driven a railroad spike through her gut.

“There’s more. I think the questions cropped up because someone deliberately sabotaged the samples.” Even uttering that heinous suspicion aloud nearly caused her stomach to revolt.

Because that was the bottom line. She had a traitor in her lab. Her lab. Her sanctuary.

Until she got that sorted out, she was afraid she’d never fully embrace or enjoy the next nine months.

Three (#u224fe564-9045-593a-9ba4-cb7709d68960)

Dante smoothed Harper’s hair back again because she was still trembling and that needed to stop. She didn’t have to know that her hair felt like satin under his fingertips and thus the soothing motion benefited them both.

“Sabotage,” he repeated and scowled. “That’s not cool. Who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know.”

She shook her head against his palm and he feathered a thumb across her temple, which shouldn’t feel so intimate, not in the midst of her crisis. But he couldn’t help the fact that step one in his seduction plan included getting Harper relaxed with him again.

She was upset. She needed him. Which naturally led to him comforting her and voila. Here they were, holding hands on a small love seat. His fingers toyed with her hair. They were a couple of millimeters shy of an embrace. One small sway forward and he’d have easy access to her lush mouth.

But he didn’t move. Not yet. Step one wasn’t complete. He couldn’t execute step two until he got her good and over her freak-out from the first time he’d kissed her. His mistake had been assuming one kiss was all it would take, and then they’d go back to normal, with his attraction to Harper easily handled and resolved.

Episode twenty-six of his show had been dedicated to that exact phenomenon. The mind played tricks on you sometimes, leading you to believe you had chemistry with a person, when in fact, the moment you locked lips, it became apparent there was nothing there. That’s why he’d thought it was best to get that part established immediately, especially since he’d been seventy-five percent sure the attraction between them only existed because of another very well-documented phenomenon—the allure of look-but-you-can’t-touch.

Hadn’t worked anything close to how he’d hypothesized.

And the whole game had changed with the addition of Cardoza, Harper’s pregnancy and her virgin state. A mere kiss wasn’t going to cut it. He wanted it all. And had no issue whatsoever with working for it.

They could go back to being just friends later. After he’d introduced her to the pleasures to be had when a man took his time with a proper seduction. After they’d burned out this spark. After he’d had the opportunity to revel in the fact that he might not have bested Cardoza at winning the Nobel, but he’d sure as hell beaten him in all the ways that counted.

“This FDA mess sucks,” he said simply. “What can I do?”

“You’re already doing it.”

She sighed with a little smile, oblivious to the way her chest rose and fell under her dress. She’d changed into a flirty number that dipped between her breasts, cradling them provocatively. It wasn’t even all that low-cut, but it didn’t matter. On her, it was sexy.

Off her, it would be epic.

“How about if I do something that actually solves the problem?” he growled because he couldn’t keep the awareness from his voice. “I’ll come with you back to Dallas and we’ll tackle this together.”

It was perfect. So much so that he couldn’t quite believe this opportunity had fallen into his lap. He’d have every excuse to spend night and day by her side, just the two of them in a place that turned them both on—a chemistry lab—and then he’d swoop in at the eleventh hour to solve all her problems. He’d be the hero, short only of the white horse as he rode to her rescue.

Harper was both a virgin and a scientist. He couldn’t use run-of-the-mill strategies to get her into his bed and have any hope of success. As seduction plans went, this one was killer.

Harper’s eyes widened. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t. I volunteered. I have two weeks off from filming and nothing planned. Do you have the option to give the FDA new samples?”

Nodding, she bit her lip, her sharp mind clearly working through the idea. “But it’s a lot of work and my job, not yours. I have to fix this.”

She wasn’t connecting the dots fast enough. The idea of getting his hands on a real test tube made him nearly giddy. When was the last time he’d gotten dirty with the periodic table? Ages.

Harper and chemistry at the same time? He could not think of anything he’d enjoy more unless it involved her spread naked on the lab worktable, beakers shoved aside and forgotten, as he pleasured her with his mouth until she screamed his name.

Okay, that image had to go or he’d blow this carefully planned seduction.

“You’re pregnant, scared and said you needed my support,” he pointed out. “What better way can I support you than this? Let me help you create the new samples. I want to. It’ll be fun, not work.”

In response, she closed the gap between them, throwing herself deep into his arms in enthusiastic agreement.

His body reacted instantly, hardening in places she would surely notice in about two seconds since she’d nearly climbed into his lap. An erection the size of Minneapolis was impossible to hide.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to hug you anymore,” he muttered darkly.

She stiffened and pulled back. Idiot. That’s what he got for opening his big mouth, but holy God, what was he supposed to do when she was clinging to him like Saran Wrap and smelled like something he wanted to take a bite out of?

“Sorry, I got carried away in my gratitude.”

Cursing inwardly, he willed back the rush of heat and grimaced. With any luck, it might look like a smile if she squinted. “I like hugging you. I was just—”

Enormously turned on. Gauging whether I could actually feel your nipples through your dress. Thinking about how seriously hot that kiss was.

He should quit while he was behind. Step one in his seduction plan did not include alienating Harper, confusing her or making a move too soon. She needed time and space to acclimate to him again or step two would die a nasty death.

Seduction was a science, not an art. There was no room for missteps.

Dante cleared his throat. “I’ll call my assistant in the morning to book me on your return flight. No arguments. We’re in this together.”

Her tremulous smile went a long way toward smoothing over his blunder.

“Thanks. You have no idea what this means to me. I finally feel like I’m back on track.”

That made one of them. But the genuine relief radiating from her expression warmed him. Not as well as her body had mere moments ago. But nicely enough. Because he did care about her and wanted to help. It was just a really awesome coincidence that the problems in her lab so neatly coincided with his agenda.

“I’m excited.” She clapped like a five-year-old presented with a birthday cake. “We haven’t spent two whole weeks together in...forever.”

“Not since college.” And even then, they hadn’t been under the same roof. Living in the same dorm, sure. But the dynamic had been completely different back then. He’d attended college on an academic scholarship and every grade counted. The hours he’d spent with Harper had most often happened at the library or in the computer lab. Studying.

“Ooooh, we’ll get to relive our glory days. It’ll be just like it was back then.”

“You mean when we had to exist on ramen noodles and four hours of sleep a night?” He grinned, only half kidding. “Speak for yourself, but I much prefer being able to afford a steak anytime I want it.”

And this time around, he had a much better idea how to get this woman into his bed. He’d had his share of girlfriends in college, mostly due to simple things he’d never have dreamed would be such chick magnets: manners, an old-fashioned insistence that a man should pay for dinner and zero interest in sports.

Harper had always eluded him, though he’d felt a buzz the very first time he’d laid eyes on her.

“I loved college. Remember the spring break when neither of us could go home because we’d grossly underestimated the reaction of that substrate to the graphene?” She touched his arm enthusiastically, lost in her story. “We had to do the whole experiment over again and the project was due in like a week and a half. I was so panicked but you were Mr. Calm.”

“I remember,” he murmured, but not the same way she did, obviously.

Dante hadn’t gone home for spring break ever. Or Christmas, summer break, random weekends. Because his foster home hadn’t been a home, it had merely been where the people who’d agreed to raise him lived, and when he walked out the door at eighteen, he’d never returned. He’d loved college, too, but only because it gave him somewhere to go, somewhere to succeed. A place to belong.

A friend in Harper Livingston.

“Those were the days. We didn’t have much, but we had each other.” She smiled fondly, and his own return smile bloomed automatically.

Harper had been the first person in his life to really care about him, what he thought, whether he was eating well. He’d conveniently forgotten all of that in the heat of the moment, focusing so hard on how to get to the next step with her that he’d lost sight of why Harper had stayed so firmly in the friend zone all these years.

He needed her, too, as the one stable relationship he’d ever had. The only person who had ever demonstrated what it meant to value one another. It was the closest thing to love he’d ever felt.

Was he confusing that with attraction?

Guilt and agitation squeezed his chest and he didn’t like it. There was a reason they called him Dr. Sexy instead of Dr. Emotional Expert. Physical chemistry he understood, very well. The psychology of the unquantifiable feelings between people, not so much.

If he succeeded with seducing Harper and got her naked and breathless, would that screw up their bond?

No, surely not. They were both adults and neither of them had much use for the emotional part. It was one of the many reasons they were still friends after all these years. They had a lot in common. The squiggle in his chest was nothing more than a reminder that he had a stake in ensuring nothing ever affected their friendship, even sex. Especially not sex. He’d keep one hand on the ripcord and shut down his seduction campaign if even a hint of a complication reared its ugly head.

Harper slid a cool hand up his arm to squeeze his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Somehow, he managed to mask the sound of his lungs strangling over a breath as he fought to keep from turning his head to capture her lips with his.