“They d-didn’t work,” she said.
“What didn’t work?” He settled on his knees and kept his hands on her shoulders so she couldn’t turn away.
Samantha reached for a box at her feet, and waved it in front of his eyes. “These.”
It took a few seconds to recognize what she held in her hand. Packages of condoms had been tossed around the bathroom as if Samantha had a fight with the latex. Several boxes were on the counter others by the tub.
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
Samantha picked up another box and threw it across the room at a wastebasket. “They didn’t work!” she cried. She grabbed another packet, threw it, and missed.
Didn’t work? What is she saying?
She buried her head on her knees again. “I’m pregnant.”
Oh, hell. Every nerve in his body jolted. Blake braced himself… for what, he didn’t know. The feeling of dread didn’t come, dismay… no, that wasn’t there either. Shock! Yes, he was definitely shocked. The last thing he thought he’d come home to after an appointment with his lawyer discussing a need for an heir was to hear his temporary wife declare she was going to have his child. His astounded disbelief knowing the trembling woman sitting on the floor of his bathroom was carrying his baby wouldn’t set in for some time.
Damn, no wonder Samantha was so upset.
Blake gathered her in his arms.
She all but crawled in his lap.
“It’s okay,” he cooed in her ear.
Her sobs were so loud, so heartbreaking, that he felt a heavy guilt only the man who put her in this position could feel. “It’s going to be okay.”
And it would be.
Someway.
Somehow.
“Shhh.”
“I didn’t m-mean for this to h-happen,” she hiccupped between words.
“I know.” He did know. Without any doubt, he knew Samantha wouldn’t have ever planned this event.
Vanessa… absolutely! If for no other reason than to be a Duchess.
Jacqueline… probably not, but then she wasn’t mother material.
But Samantha… hell no. His wife was too real for games, too real for this kind of deceit. At least with him. Honesty was their key word, after all.
Blake shifted on the balls of his feet and picked Samantha up to take her away from her war with the condoms. Lord, how was it he had so many boxes of the damn things anyway? Oh, yeah… Vanessa swore she was allergic to anything other than the brand he now saw littered all over the bathroom floor.
In their bedroom, he kept Samantha in his lap and crawled onto the soft surface of the bed. Samantha’s upsetting sobs reduced to whimpers until finally he felt her relax against his chest in what he thought was a much-needed slumber. The entire time Blake held her, stroked her hair, and told her that he was there and that everything would work out.
He’d make everything work.
****
During the night, Samantha woke a few times, always with the weight of Blake’s arm circling her waist or his fingers stroking her skin. Her exhausted sleep gave way to a blurry-eyed morning with a headache that topped the charts. Add to that her typical lack of appetite and utter embarrassment over Blake catching her weeping in the middle of a bathroom floor surrounded by boxes of useless condoms, and Samantha didn’t think things could get worse.
But then she remembered the pregnancy.
Point one for worse.
Her bladder forced her from Blake’s arms and the warm bed. He didn’t stir when she slid from their bed and padded into the bathroom.
Somewhere in the night, Blake must have cleaned up the mess she’d made. The boxes were gone, or tucked away. Good, she mused. She didn’t want to see another prophylactic for as long as she lived.
In the mirror, she noted the dark circles under her eyes, the smudges of makeup on her face. Her hair stuck out in a few places and she’d hadn’t managed to put on any night clothes before collapsing into bed.
What a mess.
Forcing herself away from her reflection, Samantha took her time with a hot shower. As her thoughts shifted to what would happen next between her and Blake, she forced them away.
No more assuming. She’d work through every turn of their relationship with him and did her best to keep her emotions on a tight leash. This pregnancy wasn’t something either of them had wanted. But it was. Sam knew she couldn’t give away a child, or worse, terminate her pregnancy. She was a responsible adult, not a teenage kid without options.
The headache receded into the back of her head as she left the shower. A little cream on her face, some gel under her eyes, and she felt nearly human. When she exited the bathroom in a fluffy bathrobe, she expected to find Blake still asleep.
He wasn’t.
Still in the rumpled clothing he’d slept in, he stood over a small tray he brought up from the kitchen. Samantha noticed coffee, milk, and juice along with a couple of plates. On the serving plates were simple saltine crackers, toast, and hard-boiled eggs.
“What’s this?”
Blake caught her elbow and encouraged her to sit. A serene smile met the corners of his mouth as he took the chair opposite her. “Pregnant women in their first trimester usually start their day off with bland food in order to settle their stomachs.” He reported the facts that Samantha had already learned the hard way as if he were reading from a textbook.
“And where did you learn this?”
“Last night, when you slept, I used my phone for something other than looking up the latest market numbers. I brought coffee, decaf, but the articles I read said you probably wouldn’t want it.” He pushed the one glass of milk on the tray toward her. “But milk is a must for you and the baby.”