So he held her close and waited until her racing heartbeat eased, until he felt the rigid terror go out of her. Finally he felt her body soften, mould into his, take comfort from his hold.

It wasn’t exactly professional, to hold her like this, but who was worrying? He’d been shocked, too. If it felt good to hold onto this woman, then so be it. He could take comfort as well as give it.

And it felt good.

Different.

He’d hardly touched a woman for six years. He hadn’t wanted to. Now slipping into the edges of shock and concern and the need for professional care came something else.

Desire?

Surely not. There was no way he could desire this woman, for she was everything he most wanted to avoid. To feel like this within moments of meeting her was crazy. But there was no escaping the way touching her made him feel. There was no avoiding the way his body was responding.

Her body was soft, yielding against him. Her hair was naturally curly, and her curls were escaping their braids. Her hair was really cute.

Really soft.

Nice.

And then…pow!

The thump between them was such a surprise it drove them apart. They stood at arm’s length, staring at each other in astonishment. Then staring down.

‘I’m s-so…’ she stammered. ‘I’m so s-sorry.’

‘I don’t think it’s you who needs to apologise for that one,’ he growled. The sensation of her baby had slammed the need for sense into his head and he took a step back. Literally as well as emotionally. What the hell had he been thinking?

Caring for a pregnant woman…No and no and no.

Her wide green eyes stared up at him, and then down at her still heaving bump.

‘He’s got a good kick,’ she ventured, cautiously.

‘He surely has.’ New emotions were surging in now, and his head was scrambling to reassemble his emotional armour. How long since he’d felt a baby’s kick? It made him feel…