The Pregnancy Test (NY Girlfriends #1)(10)
Author: Erin McCarthy

"Maybe you should."

"Should what?" Damien had lost the thread of their conversation.

"Have sex with your secretary. A little island fling under a tiki hut."

"That would be professional."

Rob crossed his feet on Damien’s desk, making him itch to shove them off. His sense of neatness and order was offended by Rob’s shoes nudging his inbox of papers a little to the left.

"She’s hot."

"Excuse me?" Damien stared at Rob, not sure he was following him again. His foot tapped impatiently on the carpet; his hand rattled the change in his pocket. He needed to get to the airport.

"Mandy. Your assistant. She’s hot."

"Is she? I hadn’t noticed." And he really hadn’t. He remembered finding her pretty in that initial meeting, but now he couldn’t even dredge up a memory of what she looked like, not in any detail anyway. The niggling attraction he felt had more to do with her wit, her intelligence, her sharp sense of humor.

"If you haven’t noticed, I’m worried about you." Rob dropped his feet to the floor, relieving Damien’s blood pressure. "She’s got that simple rich-girl look going on, like she went to a girls’ school during the day, then snuck out at night to go skinny-dipping."

"You’ve given my assistant a lot of thought." Which somehow infuriated him. A feeling he had no right to claim. Rob was probably more Mandy’s type anyway.

"Just scoping chicks for you, man, since you won’t do it for yourself."

"Maybe there’s a reason for that. Maybe I’m not interested."

"Damien." Rob’s voice was soft, serious. "This isn’t healthy for you… You’ve got to move on, do something besides work twenty-four/seven. She died, not you."

As if he didn’t know that. He fucking felt that guilt every day. And it had eaten a piece out of his soul that could never be replaced.

Damien just stared at Rob, coolly, eyebrow raised. He didn’t say anything, didn’t blink. Until Rob squirmed and straightened his tie.

"I just think you work too much. There has to be more to life than that."

Picking up his suitcase, he nearly cut Rob down with a cruel remark, a dig at Rob about male bonding. But there was genuine concern on his friend’s face, one of his only friends. Most had abandoned him during the investigation, and since he’d lived in New York, he hadn’t bothered to make any new friends.

"I’m fine. My life is the way I want it."

But if it was, why was anticipation coursing through his veins for the first time in over three years?

Chapter 5

Mandy finished washing her hands in the miniature sink in the airplane loo and smoothed her hair back off her face. She had been doing so wonderfully. Until the plane had taken off. Then her stomach had stayed at ground level while they’d shot straight up to thirty thousand feet.

She hadn’t waited for the seat belt sign to go off before rushing to the rest room and reacquainting herself with kissing the porcelain throne. Or in this case, stainless steel.

When she opened the door to stagger back up the aisle, Damien was standing there, his fist up as though he’d been about to knock.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning forward and studying her closely.

Mandy almost cringed under his scrutiny. The mirror in the rest room had not shown good things. Her hair was limp and her cheeks pale. So indignant at being sent hurdling back into morning sickness, Mandy gave no thought to politeness. This stupid trip was his idea, so it was his fault she felt as if she’d been tumbled in a hot clothes’ dryer.

"No, I’m not okay. I just threw up in an airplane loo, which means my face was hovering over a metal toilet. All of humanity deposits their filthy germs in an airplane rest room. It’s horrifying."

"Sorry," he said, dropping his hand. "But you’re starting to worry me… It seems like you’re always getting sick around me. Maybe I make you nauseous."

Though it was meant to be a joke, ha ha, Mandy just wasn’t in the mood. "Don’t worry, it’s not just you. All men make me 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.