Free Pleasure, Pregnancy and a Proposition by Heidi Rice Page A

lips curved in a confident grin.
    ‘And it’s a good thing you don’t want an abortion—because if you did you would have a major fight on your hands. No one hurts what’s mine.’
    On some subconscious level she supposed she ought to be grateful that he was so determined to defend their child, but Louisa couldn’t get past her fury at his macho selfrighteousness. The same helpless anger had dogged her throughout her adolescence—had forced her to rebel whenever her father had insisted she do what he said, whether she liked it or not.
    If Luke Devereaux thought he could decide what was best for her and her baby just because he was the father he could think again. And she didn’t like the way he was talking about the baby as if he owned it.
    ‘I don’t take orders from you, Devereaux,’ she said, between pants as she tried to wrestle out of his embrace. ‘Not now and not ever. And we happen to be talking about a child here. Not your personal possession.’
    She braced her hands against his chest and shoved. He didn’t budge an inch.
    She struggled some more, then heaved out a breath and gave up, well aware of the satisfied look on his face. Her struggles were futile. They were only tiring her out and increasing the friction between them. She could feel him more prominently now than ever, against her belly.
    She should have been outraged by his blatant arousal, but her own hormones weren’t exactly indifferent to him either—in fact they were having a little party of their own. She glared at him.
    ‘Stop being such a bully,’ she said. ‘We both know you’re stronger than I am—but in this day and age it doesn’t makeyou right. You can let me go now, because the Neanderthal routine’s getting tiresome,’ she finished, trying to sound bored despite the quiver in her voice.
    ‘I’ll let you go when you promise to listen to what I have to say.’
    ‘Fine—say your piece, Mr Caveman,’ she said, angry all over again that he was using his physical strength—and her inevitable response—against her. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’m going to do what you say.’
    He loosened his grip, but not enough to allow her to step away. She could still smell him—and the tantalising bulge in his trousers wasn’t getting any smaller.
    ‘Let me go. You promised,’ she said, suddenly desperate to put some distance between them and the heat that was building. They’d never get anything settled at this rate—and she wasn’t about to let him ravish her in a petrol station, whatever her traitorous hormones might want.
    ‘Stay there—and stop acting the innocent.’ He barked out the words.
    But she could hear the strain in his voice, could see the small beads of sweat forming on his brow, and then she heard a shuffling noise to her right. She glanced round and realised exactly why he was so eager to keep her close. She turned back to him, a sly smile on her lips.
    The balance of power had finally shifted in her favour.
    It was the Friday evening before a Bank Holiday weekend, and the service station was crowded with holidaymakers—any one of whom would be able to witness Devereaux’s aroused state if she stepped back.
    Despite the fact that her own libido was on full alert, Louisa enjoyed a sharp spurt of satisfaction at Devereaux’s predicament. Having three older brothers, it simply wasn’t in Louisa’s nature to let the moment pass without going infor the kill. She moved closer and swivelled her hips, brushing herself against his erection, and heard him curse softly. She edged her palms up his chest, slid her fingers under the collar of his shirt. His broad shoulders tensed and he shuddered.
    ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he muttered.
    She caressed the damp skin of his neck, ran her fingers through the short curls at his nape, inhaled the pleasantly musky smell of his sweat—and savoured the sharp scent of victory. He was having a really tough time with this. She welcomed the quick thrill as she traced