Page 11 of Bryson

"He claims she has not been with anyone else." Even discussing the matter was making her riled. "I tasked you with one simple job: get my son interested in you and get him to propose and you failed at it."

Sara-Lee wished she could rebel. She wished she could put the obnoxious woman in her place. But she didn't dare. Aside from the fact that she relished the idea of being Mrs. Bryson McNab,no one dared speak a word against the woman seated across from her. The McNabs had all the power in this county and beyond. They owned most if not all the resources in the town and had the power to change lives. Sara-Lee was from a very good family, one of faultless bloodline, and she had the feeling that's why she had been chosen by Barbara McNab as the perfect spouse for Bryson.

She was also aware of the stain on the family's name caused by Barbara's husband. Everyone knew where he had spent his time and it had not been in his wife's bed. Everyone also knew he had been seeing a 'colored' woman exclusively up until his death.

"Tell me what you want me to do," she murmured in a subdued tone.

The irate look on Barbara's face dissolved to be replaced by a rare, charming smile. "I'm glad you asked."

Chapter 4

She stopped abruptly when she saw the familiar jeep behind her rental car. She had gotten tired of just sitting inside the cottage and had been too restless and distracted to study the contracts she had brought with her.

He had said they should talk and she had no idea what to say to him. So, after consuming a plain meal of vegetable soup and crackers and praying that her stomach would cooperate, she had donned the appropriate clothing and decided to go for a run.

Being outside in the crisp, clean air had been invigorating and had given her time to take her mind off her troubling situation.

Bracing her hands on her hips, she stretched out the sudden cramps in her thighs, deliberately taking her time to approach the porch where he was lounging on a chair, waiting.

Wiping the moisture from her forehead, she approached. He rolled easily to his feet, standing there and blocking the front door as he waited for her to ascend the steps.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been cooling my heels waiting for you. And why aren't you answering your phone?"

Moving past him, she went to sit on the seat he had abandoned and slipped out of her tennis shoes.

"First of all, I don't answer to you. If you must know, I went for a run." She took off her socks and rubbed her instep slowly.

He came to sit next to her. "Are you supposed to be doing that in your, er, condition?"

"What condition?" she asked him with a narrow-eyed look. "I happen to be pregnant, not terminal. Did you tell your mother the news?"

"I did."

"I can just imagine how well that turned out. Did she threaten to run me out of town?"

He sent her a dry glance. "She wanted to know if it's mine."

Her eyes glittered. "I'm sure she did."

Pushing out of the chair, she left her shoes and socks and padded barefoot inside, leaving him to follow. Propping onebroad shoulder on the doorjamb, he watched her pour a tall glass of water and take a long swallow. He also pleasured himself by taking in her curves, shown to full advantage in the clinging black and white jogging suit she was wearing. Moisture clung to her chest and the skimpy material of her top, making it obvious that she wasn't wearing anything under it. He felt his body tighten in need, a reminder that he wanted her. He never stopped. But apparently, he thought, his brow descending in a frown, the feeling was not mutual. She had told him she had not been with anyone else, but he was wondering if she was telling the truth.

"What do you want to talk about?" Putting down the glass, she sat at the counter and gave him her attention.

"What do you think?" he asked shortly. Striding into the room, he grabbed a glass and poured some water, drinking it down in one gulp.

"The pregnancy."

"Precisely." Backing up, he leaned on the fridge, his frown deepening as he stared at her. "Are you still planning on leaving in a week's time?"

"Yes."

Finishing the water, he put the glass in the sink, giving himself time to gather his composure. "I'm asking you to stay."

"That's a first. You asking and not demanding."

Clenching his teeth tightly, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had promised himself to stay calm and try not to tick her off, but she was making it extremely difficult. Turning around, he eyed her for a minute before responding. "Well? Will you stay?"

"No." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to object. "I already told you I have a career to consider and people depending on me. I left several things undone when I decided to come here. A week is all I can manage. I promise to give you updates--"