For the Babies' Sakes (Expecting) (Harlequin Presents, No. 2280) Read Free Page A

wellies couldn’t compete with sex on legs.
    Just when she needed to look fabulous, she had to impersonate a rugby scrum-half after extra time.
    â€˜Well, you do look rough,’ Dan stated, frowning.
    â€˜I reckon Cleopatra herself wouldn’t look so hot under the circumstances!’ she grumped in resentment. Her head flung up in defiance. ‘When did the Queen of the Nile ever come home to find her husband had ripped the clothes off another woman and flung them any-old-how on the stair carpet?’
    â€˜Ripped what ? Just what are you talking about?’ he demanded, a picture of righteous indignation.
    â€˜That. There!’ she cried bitterly, her trembling finger pointing in the direction of the clothing on the stairs.
    He dug up a puzzled expression and wore it convincingly, his long legs covering the ground between them in seconds, impatience in every stride.
    â€˜Good grief!’ he said slowly, staring at the discarded items as if he hadn’t seen them before.
    It was a brilliant performance. No wonder he’d successfully hidden his philandering from her, she thought waspishly. Stand back Hollywood. Make way for Dan Shaw and his impersonation of an innocent man wrongly accused.
    â€˜Remember now?’ she snapped, glaring up at him. ‘Or were you in such a haze of lust that you never noticed at the time?’
    She thought he’d explode with anger. A terrifying rage had taken hold of him, his fury directed at Celine, whoput a hand to her mouth in a ‘weren’t we naughty?’ gesture.
    â€˜You stupid woman!’ he growled savagely.
    When Celine shrugged and batted her lashes, Helen feared for the woman’s safety. Dan seemed to be visibly swelling with rage, his expression black and thunderous as he sucked in a harsh breath, clearly in preparation for a stream of abuse.
    â€˜Don’t you take it out on her!’ Helen spat, consumed by fury. ‘Look to your own failings! You caused this situation! You—’
    â€˜No!’ he yelled, rounding on Helen. ‘How many times do I have to say it? I know nothing about this!’
    Intimidated by six feet two of muscled fury looming over her, she hastily moved back. He was going to deny the undeniable, she thought in astonishment. Be offended. Make out she was doing him an injustice!
    â€˜Really. Were you drugged? Date raped? I can’t believe you’re denying this!’ she muttered.
    â€˜It’s true!’ he protested, but she could see from the widening of his eyes that he was beginning to panic. A nerve was quivering manically in his strong jaw and his nostrils had narrowed with an even sharper intake of breath.
    â€˜Please!’ Helen jerked, her hand pressing her aching forehead again. ‘Save yourself the effort of protesting your innocence. I don’t want lies.’
    Icy cold with hopeless despair, she lifted pained eyes to his and she almost wept when she saw his answering pity. She did not want pity, either. She wanted rock-solid fidelity.
    â€˜I’m not lying,’ he repeated more quietly. ‘And I’ll deal with that in a moment. You need sorting out first, Helen. You’re wet through and covered in mud—’
    â€˜As if I didn’t know!’ she flung miserably.
    His mouth lost all its sensual curves and flattened into a forbidding line as he grunted with irritation.
    â€˜Cut the sarcasm. What happened? Did you fall over?’ he demanded, in a taking-charge voice.
    â€˜Yes, I flaming did!’ Huge tears of self-pity welled up, obliterating her vision. ‘I s-saw the bedroom curtains were d-drawn,’ she stammered, scrubbing crossly at her eyes. ‘I saw your car. I-I thought you were ill and I was…worried. Worried!’ she flung accusingly. ‘Huh! If I’d known … But like an idiot I wanted to look after you so I ran and—and slipped in the mud—’
    â€˜Oh, my darling—’
    All