Free The Heiress's Secret Baby by Jessica Gilmore Page A

invented tests you breathed on?
    Gabe sat down on the bed and kicked off his shoes, one hand reaching for the menu, the other for the TV control. He looked like a man completely happy with his surroundings as he swung his legs onto the bed and reclined.
    The bed.
    The one and only.
    ‘This is a double room.’
    He grinned at her. ‘I can see why they made you CEO.’
    ‘You booked us a double?’
    ‘I took the room they had available so that you—’ he cast a speaking glance at the bag next to him ‘—could get on and do what you have to do. I might as well be comfortable, fed and watered while I wait. Panic not, princess. Your virtue is safe with me.’
    Or what was left of it,
she silently filled in the rest of the sentence. What was she thinking anyway? She was potentially pregnant, definitely sick, had bags under her eyes big enough for a whole week’s worth of groceries and was wearing an old tracksuit, her freshly washed hair pulled back into a knot. Clothes she had put on after puking over her outfit, floor and cloakroom. She wasn’t exactly a catch.
    To be honest she was surprised Gabe hadn’t got them separate rooms, not a double. Anything less sexy than Polly Rafferty right now was hard to imagine.
    ‘Right then.’ She took a tremulous step forward, then another, leaning forward and grabbing the bag. ‘Let’s do this thing.’
    He looked up from the menu, his eyes dark with concern. ‘Do you want...I mean is there anything I can do?’
    ‘You can hardly pee on a stick for me,’ Polly snapped. She took a breath, her cheeks heating up. Great, she could add scarlet and sweaty to her long list of desirable attributes. ‘No, really. I don’t think either of us will ever recover if you come in there with me.’
    * * *
    The tiles were cold on her cheek and hands and beginning to chill the rest of her body. She should move, get up.
    But getting up was a pretty tall order right now. In fact, Polly wasn’t sure she was ever going to move again; she could spend the rest of her life curled up here, right?
    Curled up in a foetal position. Now that was pretty damn ironic.
    A bang on the hotel room door made her start. But of course, Gabe was there. He would take care of it.
    She heard the mumbling of voices and the clink of crockery. If only they would shut up. Quiet was good. The bedroom door swung shut with a resounding
thunk
.
    Good, peace again.
    ‘Polly.’
    Drat the man. If she didn’t answer maybe he would go away.
    ‘Polly, your food is here.’
    The tiles had gone from cold to numbing. Polly liked numb. It was peaceful.
    ‘Polly, if you don’t answer me right now I am going to break down the door.’
    He wouldn’t, would he?
    ‘Final warning, three, two...’
    ‘Go away.’ Was that her voice so clear and strong? She thought it would be croaky with years of misuse. But after all it had only been fifteen minutes since she had shut the door.
    It just felt like centuries.
    ‘Polly Rafferty, open the door this instant and come and eat some food.’
    She pulled a face in the direction of the door.
    ‘Now!’
    Her peace had evaporated. He was evidently not going to give up.
    ‘I’m coming.’
    She rolled round and clambered painfully to her feet, hugging herself as the cold from the floor permeated every pore, and walked slowly to the door, twisted the lock and inched the door open. ‘Satisfied?’
    ‘I ordered you chips. And bread. Carbs are good for sore stomachs.’
    ‘I thought you only ordered things full of vitamins.’
    He didn’t answer, just walked away to lift the silver covers off the plates on the desk.
    ‘You’re having chips as well?’ Wonders would never cease. She’d bet half her trust fund that he would go on an extra run tomorrow and not stop until he had burnt off every calorie and gram of fat.
    ‘I wasn’t sure that you would cope with the smell of anything else.’
    He hadn’t asked about the test, not even with his eyes.
    ‘They’re positive.’
    A flash of