Page 14 of Touch Me

“Fine, Dr. Nicholas. I’ve been super tired. But, hey, lastnight was…energetic.”

“Surprise, surprise. And what else?”

I shake my head slowly. “Nothing. Well, except I was alittle bloated this morning, but I stayed up late snacking on cheese, and thewhole lactose thing probably—”

“I don’t think it’s lactose.”

“Neither do I. Twenty-four-hour bug. That’s where my moneyis.”

“My money’s landing closer to nine.”

“Nine hours?”

“Months.”

“What kind of a cold is—Oh, fuck,” I say as every cell in myentire body turns to ice. I shake my head slowly, as if moving too fast willmake her words soak in and be true.

I draw a breath and actually think about the possibility.But it makes no sense. I mean, I’m a big fan of the pharmaceutical industry,and I’ve been supporting the makers of the pill for many long years.

“No,” I say as Nikki just looks at me in that I knowbetter way she has with her kids. “No way. I’m careful. It can’t be that.It’s just a cold. Don’t go thinking tigers when it’s just a housecat.”

Her brows rise in a what the fuck kind of way, andI really can’t blame her. That wasn’t my best shot, but I’m a littleshell-shocked over here. Not that I really think I’m pregnant. I don’t.

I’m not knocked up. Just knocked a little sideways by eventhe thought of it. But it can’t be true. How could it possibly be true?

Methinks the lady doth protest too much.

“Well, fuck,” I whisper. “But no. Seriously, no.”

She takes my hand. “When was your last period?”

“I’m on the pill. I miss them all the time.” Not that I missthem. Really not my favorite time of the month. And damn, but my thoughts arerambling.

Pregnant?

No.

No, not possible. Really not possible.

More important, I’m not even the slightest bit ready.

Ryan is.

I growl at the little voice in my head. Because if Ryan isready, then Ryan can damn well carry a baby.

“Fuck,” I say, meeting Nikki’s knowing eyes. “I can’t be.It’s got to just be a cold. A stomach bug. Something that’s not going to derailmy entire life.”

She stands up. “Why don’t we stop wondering and just findout?”

“Right,” I say, letting her draw me to my feet. “And we’redoing that how?”

She doesn’t answer. Just heads to the hidden stairs thatlead up to the third-floor kitchen. As I learned years ago when she firststarted up with Damien, multi-bazillionaires can have multiple kitchens.

It’s a perk.

And I get loopy when I’m nervous. Which isn’t a personalperk so much as value-added to my already sarcasm-heavy personality.

Soon enough, we’ve crossed through the kitchen andthird-floor den to enter the huge master bedroom and attached bath. Nikki opensa cabinet, rummages for a bit, then pulls out a pregnancy test. She meets myeyes and holds it out. “Moment of truth,” she says. “All you need to do now ispee.”