The Pregnancy Test by Erin McCarthy Read Free Book Online

nauseous.”
    His mouth dropped, and she suspected it was the first time Damien Sharpton had been at a loss for words.
    Great. She sounded like a man-hating lesbian.
    “I’m kidding. I’m just not feeling well. I get airsick.”
    “You should have told me.”
    “Then what? You’d have let me stay home? Taken a boat?” The plane bounced a little. “I need to sit down.”
    “Of course.” Damien put his hand on her elbow, and they both froze. She ground to a halt first; then he did, clearly uncertain why she was stopping so soon after starting.
    But his touch, such a simple meaningless gesture, seared through her flesh and lit a slow-burning fire in her belly. She had almost convinced herself that her fevered dreams had exaggerated his attractiveness. Then he’d met her at the gate before boarding, and she’d realized she hadn’t embellished a single thing. He was gorgeous. Tasty. Perfection.
    “We’re not going to have a repeat of the elevator, are we? Because I don’t have any coffee this time.”
    An embarrassed twitter escaped her lips. Here she was becoming a sex-obsessed nymphomaniac wanna-be, and his thoughts centered around capturing her vomit.
    “I’m fine. I just lost my balance.” She hightailed it back to her seat, which was thankfully in first class and sporting a good deal of leg room. On the flip side, it was right next to Damien’s seat, which was mortifying and distracting.
    He had taken the window seat on boarding, so she had to hover in the aisle while he eased past her. His leg brushed hers and she shivered like a ninny.
    “This air-conditioning is too high,” she said to cover her movement.
    He frowned at the sleeveless dress she was wearing. One she had chosen because it had no waist, which helped for comfort and camouflage.
    “Don’t you have a sweater or something?”
    She shook her head and sat down as he was clicking his seat belt back on. Damien was wearing black pants, sandals, and a white T-shirt with a black stripe. It was made of stretchy fabric that showed her quite clearly he managed to squeeze time at the gym into his busy schedule.
    It just wasn’t fair that he was so hot and she couldn’t do anything about it.
    Except sit there with beaded nipples.
    Mandy looked up from fastening her own seat belt and realized Damien’s eyes were pinned on her chest. The chest with the beaded nipples.
    His expression was inscrutable, but he said, “You need a blanket,” and pressed the button for the flight attendant.
    Oh, dear, God.
    She was mortified.
    Yet her uncooperative body was gleefully warming up from the inside out, reacting to being so close to a virile man.
    Virile? Where the hell had that word come from? Mandy crossed her legs tightly. She was pregnant! The last thing she needed was more virility in her life. Any more virility and she’d be having quadruplets.
    The flight attendant smiled at them. “Can I help you?”
    “We need a blanket.”
    What was this “we” business? Of course, he was probably embarrassed and wanted to get her covered up. As the flight attendant searched the overhead compartment for a blanket, Mandy scrunched in her seat toward the aisle, away from Damien. She could smell him, a light masculine cologne intermingling with the scent of fabric softener.
    He seemed like the type to be overenthusiastic with the fabric softener. His neatness was legendary around the office. In the bottom door of his desk he kept a dust buster, to suck up the crumbs from his lunch.
    “Thank you.” She took the blanket being held out to her and peeled it out of the plastic bag.
    “Thanks.” Damien nodded to the flight attendant.
    The woman, attractive and neat , smiled at Damien. “You’re welcome. Is this your first trip to Punta Cana?”
    “Yes.” And he smiled back.
    He actually smiled. The man who never smiled to Mandy’s knowledge, not that she had much, she realized. It wasn’t as if she ever saw him, since she was usually hiding behind a cubicle