Nobody's Baby but Mine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips Read Free Book Online Page A

woman.”
    Whatever he was swallowing went down the wrong pipe and he choked.
    Feeling decidedly malicious, she gestured toward his telephone. “Would you like me to call the office and have them send out Punkin’? If she has her homework done, she should be available.”
    He stopped coughing long enough to level her with a sonic blast from those eyes. “You’re not twenty-four. Both of us know you’re not a day under twenty-eight. Now go ahead and show me what you learned from those training films about warm-up activities. If you catch my interest, maybe I’ll reconsider.”
    More than anything, she wanted to tell him to go to hell, but she wouldn’t let her indignation, no matter how justified it might be, keep her from her goal. How could she entice him? She hadn’t given any consideration to foreplay, assuming he would simply get on top of her, perform the deed, and roll off the way Craig had done it.
    “What kind of warm-up activities have you preferred in the past?”
    “Did you bring any Reddi Whip with you?”
    She could feel herself blushing. “No, I didn’t.”
    “How ’bout handcuffs?”
    “No! ”
    “Dang. I guess it really don’t matter then. I’m open-minded.” He lowered himself into the room’s largest armchair and waved a hand vaguely in her direction. “You go on there, Rosebud, and—whadyacall—improvise. I’ll prob’ly like whatever you come up with.”
    Maybe she could do a seductive dance for him. She was a good dancer in private, but in public she tended to be awkward and self-conscious. Perhaps she could do a routine from one of her aerobics classes, although between her demanding work schedule and the fact that she preferred brisk walking as an exercise form, she usually dropped out before the session was over. “If you’d like to put on some of your favorite music . . .”
    “Sure.” He got up and walked over to the stereo cabinet. “I think I might have some highbrow stuff. I bet a SPS such as yourself loves longhair music.”
    “SPP.”
    “Isn’t that what I said?” He slipped a compact disc into the machine, and as he resumed his seat, the living room was filled with the lively music of Rimsky-Korsakov’s “Flight of the Bumblebee.” A piece with such a frenzied tempo was hardly her idea of seductive music, but what did she know?
    She performed a few shoulder rolls from the warm-up part of her aerobics class and tried to look sultry, but the quick pace of the music made it difficult. Still, the chemicals surging through her bloodstream spurred her on. She added some side stretches, ten on the right and then ten on the left so she wouldn’t get lopsided.
    Her hair brushed her cheeks as she moved in a manner that she could only hope was alluring, but as he watched her with those scorched-earth eyes, she couldn’t see any evidence that he was getting swept away with lust. She thought about touching her toes, but that didn’t seem like a very graceful dance movement. Besides, she couldn’t reach them without bending her knees. Inspiration struck.
    One. Two. Three. Kick!
    One. Two. Three. Kick!
    He crossed his legs and yawned.
    She experimented with a small hula routine.
    He glanced at his watch.
    It was hopeless. She stopped and let the bumblebee fly on without her.
    “And here I was waitin’ for you to get to the jumpin’ jacks part.”
    “I don’t dance well with people watching.”
    “Guess you should have spent a little more time with them training videos. Or a couple of old John Travolta movies.” He got up and walked over to lower the volume on the music. “Can I be honest with you here, Rosebud?”
    “Please.”
    “You’re not turnin’ me on.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Let me give you a little extra for your time.”
    She could barely resist the urge to cry, despite the fact that she wasn’t a crier by nature. He was going to kick her out, and she would have lost her best chance to have the child of her