The Stud by Barbara Delinsky Read Free Book Online Page B

wishing he was leaving behind something more of his body than a golden urn filled with ashes?
    He swore loudly and turned away from the light of the moon. Sweet, innocent Jenna had opened a can of worms. He kept trying to close it, kept trying to simply make the decision to see her in the morning and tell her no, then fly back to Florida and immerse himself in his work, but he couldn't make that decision. Something was holding him back. Some gut instinct.
    Spencer had been in many a precarious position in the course of his travels, and if there was one thing he knew, it was that his gut instinct was sound, damn it.

    Jenna had trouble falling asleep. She didn't know whether to be hopeful or discouraged by Spencer's call. She hadn't realized how much she'd set her heart on using his sperm, until she realized that within hours she might know that she couldn't. Then again, if he said yes, she'd be on her way to having the most incredible child in the world. The excitement of that thought alone kept her up for a while.
    She fell asleep shortly before dawn, which was probably why she didn't hear the doorbell when it first rang. She didn't rouse until the tone was coming in imperious bursts of threes, and then it was a minute before she could correctly identify the sound. She stumbled from bed and was at the bedroom door before she thought of covering herself. Ducking back in to snatch the decorative throw from the back of the wicker chair, she wrapped it around her and ran barefoot down the stairs.
    Squinting out the sidelight, she felt a moment's panic. Spencer was standing there, looking freshly showered and awake enough to make her acutely aware of how awful she appeared. Her hair was a mess; her eyes were still only half opened; she was sure there were pillowcase creases on her face.
    But he had seen her peering out, so she couldn't pretend she wasn't home. And anyway, she wouldn't do that. If he had made a decision, she wanted to know what it was.
    Clutching the throw around her with one hand, she opened the door with the other. The sun hit her full face. She swayed sideways to use his large frame as a shade.
    "What time is it?" she asked in a sleep-gritty voice.
    "Eight-forty, " he answered, sounding remorseless as he took in her disheveled appearance.
    Wondering how he could look so good with so little sleep, Jenna swallowed and pushed loose wisps of hair back from her face. "Want to come in? It'll take me just a minute to put something on. "
    "Don't dress on my behalf, " he said.
    She took that to mean he wouldn't be staying long enough to make it worth her bother, and felt an immediate stab of disappointment. "You won't do it?" Tears sprang to her eyes. "Oh, Spencer—"
    "I didn't say I wouldn't. " He scowled at the tears. "There are a few more things I need to know. "
    "Oh. Okay. " She glanced around, not sure whether to lead him into the living room or the kitchen. She wished she could think clearly, but his appearance had caught her off guard at a time of day when she was at her worst. "Uh, let me make coffee. " The making would buy her time; the drinking would help clear her head.
    Maintaining a grip on the throw, she went into the kitchen. Though she sensed Spencer behind her, she didn't look around. Rather, she did the best she could putting on a pot of coffee to brew. Working one-handed slowed her, but she didn't dare let go of the throw for fear it would fall to the floor. Her nightgown was of fine, soft, translucent cotton. She had nothing on underneath.
    The instant she had the coffee machine gurgling, she said, "I'm running upstairs. I'll be back down in a second. "
    "Sit, " Spencer ordered.
    "But I'm not dressed, " she protested, daring to look at him. It was a mistake. His scar was like an exclamation mark after his order, and above that, his eyes were compellingly blue. Though they didn't move from her face, she felt their touch all over.
    "What we're discussing is pretty intimate, " he said. "You're dressed