Page 21 of Conail

"Heard Bill is suing Alfred over a patch of land."

"Small town." She shook her head. Her lip was tucked between her teeth as she concentrated on the task. "Makes me worry about Yasmine's condition coming out." She glanced at him. "It will eventually, and people are going to start to speculate. She signed an NDA."

"That she did." He shrugged, not sure how he felt about his sister being remotely knocked up as he liked to think of it. The child would be his blood, but they wouldn't have access to him or her. It struck him as weird and not quite right.

"They'll probably figure some fancy dude knocked her up in the city and that he's married. The reason for her running back home."

"It's not right."

"We know why she's doing it and that's all that matters."

She glanced over at him and felt the ache starting. His plaid shirt was plastered to his broad shoulders. He had rolled up the sleeves and his muscles bunched and quivered as he worked. She felt the saliva pooling.

"How do you feel about the entire thing?"

He shrugged again. "I try not to think about it."

"But you do," she deduced. "The child is going to be your niece or nephew because she contributed to half of the conception and at the end of it, it will be as if her discomfort and months of stress will be for nothing."

He felt a quick jolt at her summation because it was exactly what he was thinking.

"She's doing it for a good reason."

"Which is very admirable." She pulled down on the teat and grunted. "It doesn't take away from the fact that she's not going to walk away from it whole."

He finished the milking and put away the pail, his anger surfacing. "Why the hell are you telling me this?"

Tamping down her irritation at his unreasonable attack on her, she finished the milking and took away the pail. "Just saying."

"Well, you need to keep your opinions to yourself."

She rose and faced him, eyes flashing. "It's a free country."

"Just get the hell away from me and let me finish my work."

She planted her feet and shoved at him, hands slapping against his chest. His eyes flared.

"You want to be careful."

"Or what?" She shoved harder this time. "You're going to push back?"

His control snapped, and his hands snaked up to clamp around her slender wrists. He yanked her forward, fingers biting into her skin. At first it was anger propelling him and then the scent of her elusive perfume assailed his nostrils. With a feral growl, he hauled her up to her toes and crushed his mouth to hers. After the first stunned second of shock and surprise, she grabbed hold of his shirt and poured everything into the kiss.

Chapter 7

Maeve put the cup of steaming organic tea before her daughter and stepped back. She was careful not to allow her concern to show. Yasmine was four weeks pregnant, and the symptoms were coming fast and furious. The poor girl was unable to hold down anything.

"Thanks, Mama." She was in her room because she was too weak to go downstairs. The scent of the Thanksgiving meal had sent her rushing to the bathroom to empty her stomach. The pills that had been prescribed to counter the sickness were not doing a damn thing.

"I was sick as a dog with you and Colin." She settled on the sofa in front of the bed. "With you, it was the entire nine months. I wanted to die. At times it seemed as if I would not make it to the next day."

She eyed her mother over the rim of the cup and was careful not to point out that the baby she was carrying inside her womb would never be hers. She was also careful not to point out the fact that she wanted it to be hers.

"I never knew that. This tea is doing the trick."

"Good. Should I call the doctor?"

"No." She shook her head. "Hopefully it will pass in another few minutes." She eyed her mother. "And your admission makes me appreciate you more."