Evie's Bombshell - By Amy Andrews Page 0,46

The man had already seen everything she had. She could sloth around in her daggy pyjamas with no bra and no real shape and he was prepared to marry her anyway.

Besides, she didn’t think he found her pregnant body much of a turn-on. He’d studiously avoided looking, touching or getting too near her belly. He didn’t refer to it, he never remarked about how big she was getting or comment when she rubbed it.

She knew that was partly to do with his issues but she had to face facts—she’d put on some weight, her breasts had doubled in size and her belly had well and truly popped out.

Hardly a sex kitten.

So there seemed very little point making an effort and there was something very comforting about a man who was a sure thing so she threw herself down in front of the telly, her feet up on the coffee table, and waited.

It was nine o’clock when Finn finally knocked and Evie was almost asleep on the couch, but her belly rumbled as she admitted him and she realised she was ravenous. For food and for him. There was something very sexy about the total disregard with which Finn wore a suit. The way he never bothered to do up the jacket so it flapped open all the time or how he couldn’t care less about doing up the collar buttons on his shirt and how his tie was always just a little skew. The whole look said, I’d much rather be in scrubs.

Which pretty much summed him up.

He’d brought beer and pizza and they ate it out of the box while he told her about the emergency thoracotomy he’d had to perform on an MVA that had come in after her shift had ended and they watched TV re-runs.

Finn shook his head as Evie laughed at some ridiculous antic. ‘I can’t believe we’re watching this.’

‘Hey, I love this show,’ Evie protested. ‘The nanny used to let us watch it if Lexi and I had done our homework.’

‘What about Bella? Didn’t she watch it?’

‘Of course, but none of them made Bella do anything because of her CF.’

‘Poor Bella,’ he mused. ‘How did she feel about that?’

Evie opened her mouth to give him a flippant reply but it suddenly struck her that Finn was asking her about her life, seemed interested in her life. After two weeks of gently pushing his boundaries back with a feather, he was actually taking an interest in her past.

It was beyond thrilling. She smiled at him. ‘She played on it for all she was worth.’

An hour later, with Evie having fallen asleep on his shoulder and snuggled into his side, Finn decided it was time to leave. His arm was numb, which was the stuff his nightmares were made of, and frankly with a large expanse of her cleavage exposed to his view she was just too tempting.

He’d tried not to notice how her body had burgeoned over the last weeks. Tried to concentrate on her, on sticking to his side of the bargain, but her athletic body was developing some fascinating curves, which he’d need to be blind not to notice, given how much time they were spending together.

It was taking all his self-control not to reach for her. To remember she was pregnant. As her bump was getting bigger, it shouldn’t have been that difficult but here, now, with her all warm and cosy and smelling fresh and soapy with her hair all loose and her shirt half falling off, exposing the creamy rise of most of one breast and the light from the TV flickering over her skin, it was very difficult.

Finn liked sex. And he was good at it. Even when he’d been practically crippled with pain and numbness in his arm, he’d been good at it.

He and Evie were especially good at it. He reached a plane with her that he’d never reached with anyone else. There’d always been something more than physical. Kind of like what they’d been sharing these last few weeks.

But she was pregnant and they were trying to build a relationship beyond what they already had so making a move on her right now, when things were going so well, was just plain stupid.

He tried to slowly ease away from her but she shifted and murmured and seemed to cling to him even more firmly, pushing her soft breasts into his side.

He prayed for patience, or deliverance.

Whichever came first.

‘Evie,’ he whispered, and shook her gently, trying really