Page 12 of Royal Baby Maker

I didn't know I'd backed up until I hit the wall near his bedside. Bishop cupped my neck, bare chest rubbing over my shirt and making the clothing pointless. “You're looking at this all wrong,” he said softly. “You said you needed this job. That means you're tight on money.”

Staring at his lips as they made alluring shapes, I said, “That doesn't mean I want a relationship with a stranger. I'm not a prostitute.”

He laughed warmly and I shivered. How was he so damn sexy? “If you go along with what I'm asking and make a baby with me, you'll be set. The power, the cash, you'd have it all... no strings attached.”

“I think a kid with you is sort of a huge mother fucking string, Bishop.”

He leaned down, kissing the sensitive skin just behind my ear. The rush of pleasure had my brain swirling in my skull. “Make a prince... or a cute princess... with me. You won't have to walk another dog.”

“Maybe... maybe I like dogs.” I swallowed. “They're more trustworthy than men like you.”

Again he chuckled; my knees bent, his strong arm holding me against the wall. Or maybe it was the pressure of his body against mine. I didn't know anymore. “Men like me? Men who offer you an amazing shot at security? You don't have to love me, Nell. I don't care if you don't.”

An unexpected forest of thorns grew up from my middle. I tried to smooth it away, but his words... they hurt.He's honest, that's good. That's... what matters.Didn't it?

His hand cupped my stomach. The touch was intimate, it stole my breath away. It was too easy to imagine a future where an adorable baby would fit in my arms. I could even see Jaws and Cujo licking its face.

It was sweet... and exciting... and it crushed my heart up until I just wanted to run away and never look back. A baby? Now?Ever?

“I need air,” I gasped, pushing around him. “I... I need to think about this.” Gripping the door frame, I looked back at him. His eyes were dark; brooding. I wanted to read his mind, but maybe seeing his true thoughts would confuse me more.

Maybe I'd learn my uncertainty was actually hurting him.

No way, impossible.Guys like Bishop had less emotional capacity than a chunk of dirt. It was easy to try and flatter me by saying I was beautiful or gorgeous or...Kind, he called me kind.No one had ever said that to me before.

Gnawing at the corner of my mouth, I hesitated. He was still watching me, waiting to see what I'd do next. He was curious—but I was the one with a thousand questions.

“Bishop.”

His eyebrows shifted up. “Yeah?”

“Is that offer for breakfast still on the table?”

There; the light was back in his eyes. “I know a great cafe. Best mimosas around.”

“I'll go on one condition. Two, really.” I inched the door open. “You'll explain everything that's going on with this baby stuff, and also, you're going to have to sneak me out of here Black Ops style.” I peered into the hall. “I don't want to explain our wet hair to your mother.”

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