An Act of Persuasion - By Stephanie Doyle Page 0,52

with me. Now coming over for dinner is moving too fast?”

She shrugged. “That was work. This is a date.”

“I’m not going to pounce on you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Not that he didn’t want to. Hell, he’d been a few steps away from sinking his fingers into her and making her come while she lay on an examining table in a doctor’s office, of all places. Pouncing was the least of all he wanted to do to her.

The very idea of having her in his house—potentially wearing a comfortable pair of yoga pants—was enough to make him salivate. But he was determined to move at her speed. Which meant what he wanted didn’t matter.

“Fine. Then a restaurant.”

“Wow, you caved pretty fast. That’s not like you.”

“I call it compromising.”

“That’s not like you, either.”

“I’m growing,” he growled.

She laughed and it sounded sweet to hear. How long had it been since she’d laughed with him? Even though she was mostly laughing at him. He was her straight man and in the beginning of their relationship he’d found it incredibly annoying that he was so amusing to her. After a while, he would purposefully say things he knew would inspire her humor. Just so he could hear her laugh.

“Okay. I’ll come to dinner at your house. But we agree no funny stuff. I’m not ready for that yet. Not like you had a chance after you called me fat anyway.”

“I didn’t call you—” Enough. He’d won. She was coming to his house for dinner. It was all that mattered.

* * *

ANNA LOOKED AT the computer screen on her desk then at her cell phone she placed next to it. Then at the screen—which hadn’t changed—then at her phone again.

It would be the easiest thing in the world. She could call him and tell him she wasn’t feeling good or was too tired and simply cancel their night together. It happened. Dates got canceled. It wasn’t like she was shutting him off completely. He would, no doubt, ask for a rain check and she would gladly give it.

They could reschedule for the weekend when she had more free time.

They could reschedule for next month when she wasn’t so freaking freaked out.

Anna dropped her head back and moaned. That’s what was happening. She was scared and she couldn’t really define why. Watching his face when he realized he was listening to the beating heart of his child was like nothing she’d ever seen before. Not out of Ben Tyler.

Ben Tyler was stoic. He was whiplike smart. He was responsible and in charge of every element of his life.

A man in firm control.

That he should find awe in anything didn’t feel right. Not for him. Yet it had been plain to see he’d been shaken to his core by the sound of a heartbeat.

Then he’d proposed again and she knew with that proposal only the child occupied his thoughts. She couldn’t blame him. When she listened to the sound of that beating noise for the first time it got to her, too. She instantly wanted to take it out of her belly so she could hold it and sing to it and say, hey, you’re my baby.

It was crazy because she never thought of being a mother. Maybe it was a result of being raised in different foster homes. It wasn’t like she felt any link to her past that needed to be continued into the future. She was Anna. She was on her own. She’d never felt any urgent need to procreate.

Added to that were all the other natural concerns. Many people parented their children the way they had been parented. Anna’s mother and father abandoned her. While she didn’t see that being something she could possibly do to her child, she knew in the deepest corners of her heart that, in many ways, she’d abandoned Ben when he needed her most.

She could tell herself all day that she’d left him because she’d given him her heart and he’d dismissed it out of turn. But deep down in her soul where she didn’t like to go very often because it was a scary place, she knew that part of the reason she left was fear.

Fear of losing him. Fear of being left behind. Again.

Running from that fear made her a coward.

Sort of like canceling on him at the last minute would make her a coward.

So fine. She would go but she wouldn’t pretend that anything he said or did wasn’t all about the baby. It had