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Dean's eyes softened. "This maybe the first time in my life I've seen you flustered."
My eyes narrowed. "Men don't get flustered." I drank some Scotch. "Why the fuck does this woman have me all wound up?"
"I think you like her," Dean explained.
"Like her?"
"Christ, Duncan, how is it a smart man like you is clueless about how you feel?" he asked exasperated.
"Stunted emotional growth?" I suggested.
Dean laughed. "Do you know how you're going to handle being married?"
I shook my head. "I don't know. I thought if I didn't see her all the time, my head would straighten out, but now I miss her. I've never missed anyone in my life, andI miss her. I barely know her. I mean, she's Jean-Luc Moreau's daughter. She could be a complete whack job. He might've planted her to get into bed with the Archers, which he's been trying to do, unsuccessfully, for years."
Dean nodded gravely. "You think she's involved in her father's business?"
"I don’t think so. The PI found no sign that she’s involved with Moreau’s activities, but even if she was, I’d still marry her. She’s having my baby. The moment I found out she was pregnant, I knew what I had to do."
Dean's eyebrows shot up. He rubbed a hand over his face. "Hetold you she was pregnant?"
"Yeah."
"Not her?"
"Well, she confirmed it when we talked."
"But you did do a prenatal paternity test, right?" Dean was becoming more agitated by the second.
"And risk the baby with one of those crazy amniocentesis needles? Fuck no."
"Jesus, Duncan! You really believe in this woman? She's Jean-Luc Moreau's daughter."
"Yeah." Which made me a big fucking moron.
"Jesus!"
"Yeah, tell me about it."
"Look, she seems like a nice enough girl, but Délices d'Elsa could be a front. You know how this business works."
"I should maybe read the PI's file?"
Dean sighed. "You using the usual company?"
"Yeah."
Dean picked up his phone and pressed some buttons. "I'll get her file too. I can look at her without getting horny, so between us, one of us will know who the fuck shereallyis."
I knew what my baby brother was thinking. I wasn’t acting like Duncan Archer anymore—it was like an alien had taken over. And in a way, one had. A thirteen- or fourteen-week-old fetus, the size of a passion fruit, was growing inside her. But it wasn’t just the baby. It was Elsa. She was turning my whole world upside down.
"Duncan, man, this is serious."
"I know."
"You need to tell Mom and Dad."
I sighed. "Let's go to my suite and call them. Where are you staying?"
