Author: Bella Andre

“You look different.” Glowing. “Your mother will take one look at you and know.”

Her face went white again. “Oh God, you’re right. I won’t see her.” He could see her trying to convince herself that what she was doing was okay. “It’s just a week.”

The seven days she’d promised him started ticking like a time bomb, laughing at him as he tried to figure out a way to turn it off before it detonated. They’d talk about her family later. Right now he had the mother of his child to win over.

“Have you eaten?”

“This morning.”

It was late, way past when she should have eaten dinner. “You’ve got to think about more than yourself now.”

“Are you accusing me of doing something to harm—”

He cut her off. “No. I just want to make sure you eat. Sit down,” he said, pointing to one of his bar stools. “I’ll make you dinner.”

“I thought you were needed at the pub,” she said, throwing his earlier words back in his face. She turned and headed for the front door.

Jake didn’t think before reaching out and pulling her against him. He knew being held by him was the very last thing she wanted, but she belonged in his arms.

“Seven days starts now.”

Chapter Eleven

Some things were way too weird for Sophie to get her head around. Like the fact that after all these years of wishing and hoping and dreaming, she was finally sitting in Jake’s kitchen.

Where he was cooking her dinner.

While she was pregnant.

With his baby.

No doubt about it, she had been sucked into the Twilight Zone.

The city lights from his third-floor loft, in what used to be the industrial part of the city, were spectacular. But she couldn’t take her eyes off Jake.

He had a surprisingly full fridge for a bachelor and he certainly looked like he knew what he was doing with the carrots, potatoes and onions. She was still angry with him for his Neanderthalish demands, but she needed to eat. And she was perfectly fine with letting someone else feed her on a day that had been more trying than any other she could remember.

Of course, just because big, dangerous Jake McCann looked impossibly cute cooking her dinner, Sophie knew not to read too much into what he was doing, or to confuse his concern for the baby’s welfare with concern for her.

Now that he knew he was going to be a father, she could tell all he wanted was a healthy kid. She had no doubt he wouldn’t blink twice at taking drastic measures to meet his goals, like tying her up and force-feeding her healthy meals.

If only the tying-her-up part didn’t still sound so good...

“Are you too hot? Too cold?”

“I’m fine,” she said in a clipped voice.

“Have you been—”

The most self-assured man she’d ever known suddenly looked like he didn’t know what to say. Darn it, Sophie told herself, it wasn’t the least bit adorable.

“Have you been sick?”

“No. Mostly I’ve just been tired.” But I thought that was because every time I tried to fall asleep I ended up thinking about you instead. “That’s why I didn’t realize I was pregnant until today.”

“Good,” he said in a gruff voice as he refilled her half-empty glass of water and slid a plate of warm soda bread with butter melting on it toward her before moving behind the stove. “I’m glad you’ve felt okay.”

It was hard to remember he didn’t really care about her at all, when he was being so sweet. How on earth was she going to keep her guard up for seven days?

And how the heck had he even gotten her to agree to a week in the first place?

Sophie still wasn’t sure, although she didn’t think she’d ever forget the expression on his face when she’d told him she didn’t want anything from him and would deal with the baby all by herself without ever naming him as the father.

Jake had looked momentarily lost. Then angry. Then determined.

Maybe she should have come more prepared for his reaction, but she hadn’t expected him to want a baby. Especially not hers. And, frankly, she still didn’t understand why he did want it. Jake was the ultimate bachelor. His night-driven life didn’t lend itself to family dynamics.

Tomorrow, after a good eight hours of sleep, she’d make herself face him down again and demand an answer. Tonight, however, she wasn’t even sure how she was going to stay awake through this meal.

“I can’t believe you know how to cook.” The simple statement came out with such a bite, more than she even knew she had in her. Sophie couldn’t understand how she could love and hate him at the same time...just that she did.

He gave her a half-smile, not quite the smirk she was so used to. There was something in this smile that was different, almost as if he was a little embarrassed to be caught out at something that didn’t scream womanizing male.

“I had to learn when the cook was sick and no one else was around to do it.”

“I never thought about how hard it must have been to have your own restaurant,” she said, assuming he was talking about buying and operating the first McCann’s Irish Pub.

“Yeah,” he said, “it was crazy knowing that running McCann’s was entirely up to me. Win or lose, I was the guy to blame, but that’s not where I learned to cook. I was ten. My dad was working the taps. I would hang out in the back, wash dishes for quarters. The cook was too drunk to fry up the orders. He passed out in the back and the customers were giving my father trouble. He told me to cook.” Jake transferred the vegetables to a plate, then sliced the pork roast he’d heated up on the plate beside it. “So I cooked.”

How long had she wanted to know something like this about Jake’s life? How long had she dreamed of being close enough to him to actually hear stories of his childhood? Now that the moment had finally come, she was so mad at him. Too mad—and too tired—to really appreciate it.

He slid the plate in front of her and it smelled wonderful. “Standard Irish fare.” There was a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “It’s what I do best.”

That, she knew, was where he was wrong. The food looked amazing, but she already knew what he did best. And while it involved plenty of heat, the kitchen wasn’t the preferred location...and there were a heck of a lot less clothes involved.

“The bed is non-negotiable.”

Over and over his earlier words played in her head, thrumming through her body, making every cell come completely alive, alert with wanting, despite how exhausted she was. She’d already accepted that seven days in close proximity with Jake would make it impossible to guard her hormones. Especially when she now knew exactly how good he could make her feel.

Only this time, she was smart enough to know she needed to guard her heart. No matter what.

Fortunately, the growling of her stomach stole her attention back from how close his bed had to be. She reached for the knife and fork. “Thanks for dinner.”

It wasn’t the most grateful she’d ever sounded, but it was the best she could do for now. Jake would just have to deal with it. But when she took a bite, she couldn’t stop the moan of appreciation coming from her lips.

“You like it?”

He was smiling at her and when she looked up at him, when she saw those dark eyes on her like that, looking so pleased with pleasing her, she lost hold of every thought...lost hold of anything but the sudden, desperate need to feel his mouth on hers again, taking her, possessing her the way he had during their one beautiful night together.

It didn’t help when his smile changed, shifting to an intense look of desire that she was sure mirrored hers exactly.

Somehow she managed to pull herself together enough to say, “It’s great.” She took another bite, hoping that if she kept her mouth stuffed full, she could keep her lips focused on something other than feeling Jake’s pressing against them.

“Good. There’s more if you need it.”

She frowned. “Wait, aren’t you having some?”

He shook his head. “I ate earlier.”

“Oh.” He really had done all of this for her. No man had ever cooked for her before.

Then again, no man had ever knocked her up, either. She supposed rustling up a meal was the least he could do.

Sophie was hungry enough not to care that he was just sitting there watching her eat. She’d never been one of those girls who picked at her food. Her hips and breasts were evidence of that, despite the laps she swam every day. Lori was quite a bit leaner, given her intense dance and choreography schedule.

But after several minutes, as her stomach went from empty to full, she realized she was going to lose the battle with keeping her eyes open. She put down her knife and fork and yawned, big and long.

“You’re tired.”

Jake, she’d noticed more than once, didn’t waste words. But before she could do much more than nod, his arms were going around her and he was lifting her off the stool.

Her brain—and body—immediately flashed back to Napa, when he’d picked her up, naked and desperate for him.

“What are you doing?” She couldn’t hide the panic that underlay each word.

He didn’t break stride. “Taking you to bed.”

Her breath lodged in her chest. Even wanting him as bad as she still did, she couldn’t have sex with him tonight. Not when she was so tired and felt so weak, like every wall she should have up to protect herself was lying down taking a nap.

What would happen if she lowered the defenses she’d tried to put up? What remaining part of her heart—or worse, her soul—would she end up handing over to him on a silver platter?

“Jake, dinner was great, but I need to go home now.”

“No.” His bedroom was big and masculine, just like him. “Seven days, Sophie. You promised me the week.” He moved to take off her shoes and she was so stunned by how gentle he was being with her that she let him.

“I know I did,” she said when she found her voice. “But I thought they’d be like dates, that we’d meet up after work for a few hours.”

“I want you here. With me.”

It was everything she’d ever wanted him to say, and yet the words coming from her lips were, “What if I don’t want to be here?”

He looked up at her from where he was kneeling by her now bare feet, his eyes an unfathomable near-black. “Then I’ll stay with you.”

She swallowed hard, suddenly realizing his intent—and just what she’d signed herself up for.

Not just seven days, but seven nights.

Oh God.

He got up and went to the bathroom, but was back in seconds. “There’s a new toothbrush beside the sink. I’ll be back soon.”

Sophie knew she could put her shoes back on and leave, that she didn’t have to go into his bathroom and brush her teeth before slipping into his bed. But she also knew Jake well enough to know that if she did that, he’d just follow her.

He wouldn’t care about pounding on her apartment door loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood before she let him in. Not when he was so incredibly possessive, clearly wanting to take over her life by doing things like forcing her to eat dinner. It didn’t matter that she’d been hungry enough to eat a horse. She didn’t want anyone telling her what to do.

Especially not him.

But the craziest thing of all was that, instead of only being mad about his domineering behavior, she was aroused by it at the same time. So much so that she couldn’t stop her old favorite daydream from playing in her head, the one where Jake’s hard muscles were pinning her to the bed and he was looking down at her telling her exactly what he was going to do to her. And she was dying for it.

She shoved herself off the bed and went into the bathroom. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” She ranted at herself the entire way across the carpet to the tiled floor.