A Pregnancy, a Party & a Proposal. Teresa Carpenter

      

       Ray’s arm at her waist didn’t let her go far. Long fingers traced the keyhole in her bodice. “Did I tell you how lovely you look tonight?”

      “You did.” And the desire in his eyes had repeated the message over and over throughout the night.

      Lauren had wanted to make him notice her—and she had succeeded, all right. To the point where it had almost backfired on her. The searing weight of his gaze had followed her all night, and her body had responded with heightened awareness until she could barely concentrate. There she had stood, rubbing elbows with the rich and powerful, and she’d struggled to put together coherent sentences. Fortunately the fact that a friend of the mayor’s wife had heard of By Arrangement had caught her attention and grounded her in the conversation so she didn’t actually embarrass herself.

      The desire was back in his eyes now, burning brighter than ever, making her nerves tingle and her body heat. She much preferred seeing passion over pain in his sea-blue eyes. And, oh, he smelled good.

      She missed being held by him. So, with luxury surrounding her, New York lit up at her feet, and a hard man pulling her close, she surrendered her control.

      Rising on her toes, she kissed the hard line of his jaw. “Are you just going to look? Or do you plan to do something about it?”

      A Pregnancy, a Party & a Proposal

      Teresa Carpenter

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      TERESA CARPENTER believes that with love and family anything is possible. She writes in a Southern California coastal city surrounded by her large family. Teresa loves writing about babies and grandmas. Her books have rated Top Picks by RT Book Reviews, and have been nominated Best Romance of the Year on some review sites. If she’s not at a family event, she’s reading, or writing her next grand romance.

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      For Gabrielle, the younger twin, pragmatic, dedicated, witty, and a very hard worker.

       You’re going to make a great pharmacist.

       I love you, babe.

      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       EPILOGUE

       Extract

       Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

      “‘TWO LINES MEANS PREGNANT.’” Lauren Randall read the early detection instructions. “‘One line, not pregnant.’”

      Simple enough. Perched on the side of the bed in a long blue robe, heart beating a mile a millisecond, she scrunched her eyes closed—a cowardly act entirely unlike her—and then opened them to look at the stick.

      Two lines.

      She blinked. Looked again. Still two lines.

      “Oh, boy.” She blew out a pent-up breath. Her mind spun with the news. She was going to be a mother. Strolling to the bedroom’s picture window, she stared unseeing at the Pacific Ocean.

      Her hand went to her waist. She was expecting a baby.

      Ray Donovan’s baby. Mind-boggling. This type of thing didn’t happen to her. She was too organized, too controlled. She didn’t have unprotected sex. She hadn’t had unprotected sex. But a broken condom might have changed her life...forever.

      She glanced at the stick in her hand. Yep, still two lines.

      “Oh, my.” A baby.

      A tiny part of her was thrilled at the knowledge. She was having a baby! Would he or she have Lauren’s blond hair and light brown eyes? Or Ray’s sandy, slightly darker locks and blue eyes?

      Just thinking about it sent the more rational side of her reeling. A child was not in her current five-year plan. Certainly not a child with a domineering man incapable of standing still for two whole minutes.

      The sound of pounding drew her gaze down. Below her the lush garden of the Santa Barbara estate was being transformed into a wedding paradise. The day had dawned sunny and bright and, according to the meteorologists, might reach seventy degrees. Given it was Valentine’s Day, they were lucky. February weather could be unpredictable in Southern California.

      The event promised to be spectacular. On the edge of the property a white-columned gazebo stood against a backdrop of green hedges and long-standing trees, beyond which the vast Pacific Ocean flowed on forever, symbolic of the unending devotion about to be declared.

      Short columns on which sat rose ball topiaries created the aisle. White chairs with silver sashes provided seating for the guests. A huge white tent graced the middle of the lawn and wood flooring had been put down. The tentpoles had been encased in columns to match the gazebo and thousands of white lights were being draped across the ceiling to give the impression of dancing under the stars.

      More rose topiaries acted as centerpieces on the