Page 34 of Fierce Protector

She sliced her fingers through what she knew to be very messy hair. She never woke up looking like a beauty queen. Apparently, Ledger did.

Darting a glance at the floor, she took in the thin bedroll he’d spread out next to her and an equally thin blanket cast aside when he’d jumped up to see what was wrong. He didn’t appear to have used a pillow at all.

She slid her gaze to several throw pillows she’d hogged all night long. Guilt rushed in.

“Your receptionist said you don’t have to worry about a thing. She’s handling it all.”

Panic shoved the guilt out of her system as easily as she always did for work matters. “Handling it how? What did you tell her is wrong with me?”

There wasn’t much room on the futon, and he sat close enough that if she leaned forward a little, she could rest her head on his chest.

He looked her dead in the eyes. “I told her the truth.”

Her eyes flew open wide. “What!”

“I told her that you were knocked into a stall wall and the doctor advised you to take it easy all week.”

She let out a squeak. “You didn’t tell her about the…?”

He shook his head. “When you’re ready to get up, the bathroom is stocked with more fancy shampoos and soaps than you can imagine.”

Mrs. Gracey had definitely put her personal touch on everything in the art studio. Her creations were not only part of the décor. She also had a collection of delicate floral teacups on a shelf that Demi had seen Ledger glare at when he walked by as if all those tiny flowers personally offended him.

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’ve got some work to do. I won’t be far away. Someone will have eyes on the shed at all times, but I’d still like you to lock the door.”

A small, cold kernel of fear worked its way into her stomach. She’d heard things about pregnancy, but her emotions really were all over the place.

“Thank you.” She could use a shower, and the thought of those fancy, scented soaps she never used were alluring. But the warmth of the sun streaming through the big windows relaxed her, and she lay back on the pillows, curled up like a cat in the pool of sun. With a replacement veterinarian that traveled outside the county on her cases, she felt able to take a moment to relax.

Ledger stared at her for a moment before he got off the futon. Lying on her side, she had a fantastic view of him rolling up the blanket and then the bedroll with all the tidiness of the military man he was.

When she propositioned him back in Badlands, she never considered that those muscles had been gained through BUD/s training. She wanted to ask more about his time as a SEAL, but knowing more about him made it less of a one-night stand.

He walked to a small baby blue chair in the corner. On it was an open duffel bag, the dark canvas completely out of place in this feminine space. He reached in and pulled out the shirt on top.

Watching him slip his chiseled arms into the sleeves and stretch the cotton before dragging it over his head, his shoulders, and finally his six-pack abs, was surely illegal.

The space was separated into a main studio which doubled as the bedroom—their shared bedroom now—with a nook that contained a coffeemaker and a tiny sink to fill it from. The bathroom was roomier than Demi would have ever guessed. While it couldn’t be called luxury, the hand-painted murals on all the walls made for the same eclectic, feminine vibe as the rest of the place.

Demi’s eyes hooded as she watched Ledger disappear into the nook. When he appeared again, he had one of the floral cups in his big fist. No wonder he despised the cups—the delicate handle looked about to snap off in his grip.

“Is that coffee?” Since learning she was pregnant, she had cut way down on the caffeine addiction that fueled her day and night through all conditions.

In a move that shouldn’t appear so damn manly, he lowered the cup and leveled her in a look. “Yep. But you shouldn’t have any.”

As she looked on, he drained the coffee in one steady gulp and returned to the kitchen area. She heard the water run as he washed out the cup.

Then, without a word, he walked to the door, put on his cowboy boots and left.

Okay. That was abrupt. She’d gotten the impression that he wanted to discuss things, and while she still wasn’t ready, she’d expected him to ply her with questions about what she was going to do about the baby.

She had seen her baby on that screen. Heard its heartbeat.

She had to keep it now.

A plan formed in her mind. She would tell Ledger that she would do it alone.

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