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by Sabine Ferruci
Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Romance
Description: Chloe Simon has a problem. The semen she received did not belong to her selected donor, a sensitive patron of the arts. It belonged to a special operations soldier who only banked his sperm in case he and his mission blew up. Now Dev Gallagher is back, staking a claim on their unborn child. He wants to marry her, enjoy some buried to the hilt sex, and then divorce her after the baby's birth. Her head says no, but her heart and hormones scream an orgasmic yes! The hormones win. Chloe opts out of the marriage proposal, but opts in for a trip to his mountain cabin for the promised mind-blowing sex. Rating: Carnal
eBook Publisher: New Concepts Publishing, 2008 2008
eBookwise Release Date: July 2008
552 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [116 KB]
Reading time: 72-101 min.
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"Sending me the wrong sperm sample is not a minor customer satisfaction problem, Dr. Ashtar." Clasping her palms across her pregnant belly, Chloe Simon willed her stomach to stay calm.
"I'm not minimizing the complexity of the situation, Miss Simon." The physician looked down at the open chart on the conference table in front of him, then hit her with a high wattage surely-we-can-solve-this smile. "I'm merely trying to assure you that your actual donor, Sergeant, uh...."
"Gallagher. B.D." Those were the first words that Chloe's donor had uttered since his arrival in the clinic's conference room. "Broderick Devlin," he added, his clear green eyes giving nothing away as they observed her. By his unconcerned demeanor, he could have been sitting in a clubhouse waiting for his tee time.
"I assure you," Ashtar continued, "Sgt. Gallagher provided a specimen of the highest quality. He's in excellent health." Dr. Ashtar beamed with pride as he gestured to Gallagher. "No family history of inherited disease. Meets--in fact, exceeds--our extremely rigid donor standards. Had he appeared in our catalogue, he would have been very popular with our clients."
Chloe conceded that the hunk sitting across the table was as perfect a physical specimen as a man in his mid-thirties could be. A moss green sport shirt accentuated his tanned forearms, well-muscled arms, and wide shoulders. The short cut of his light brown hair emphasized the square jaw and the shadow from his clean shave. His nose was a little big for his face and his eyebrows a little too heavy, but B.D. Gallagher would never be voted off the island, at least by any of the women.
"I'm sure the Essence of Sgt. Gallagher would have been a sell-out, Doc." Chloe was satisfied to see a flash in Gallagher's suspiciously bland eyes, but her satisfaction was short lived. Nausea that had been simmering just below the surface since this morning's phone call was beginning to churn in earnest. Breathe in. Breathe out.
"Another positive attribute you should not discount, Miss Simon, is the superior strength and quality of the sperm you received."
Trailing her fingertips lightly over the swell of her belly, Chloe took a deep breath and tried not to hyperventilate.
"In order to achieve success, our average client inseminates over a period of at least three cycles, using as many as six vials at each setting." The little man in the starched white coat could hardly contain his excitement as he leaned forward on the table to touch her arm. "You merely used one vial and became pregnant on your first try. Superb results, really."
Chloe swiveled her chair away from the contact and watched Gallagher closely. If he moved so much as an eyelash to display macho pride, she would purposely lose her breakfast all over his crisp khaki slacks. She was almost disappointed when not so much as a facial twitch occurred. It was smooth sailing in the ocean of those green eyes, no victory flags flapping in the breeze.
"Dr. Ashtar." Chloe was tired of hearing about the upside of this little glitch. "I selected donor attributes that were of more importance than Olympic caliber sperm."
"Such as what, Ms. Simon?" asked Gallagher. Of course, his voice would be radio announcer deep. It made the hair on her arms vibrate to attention.
"Certain talents and interests." She was not about to explain her desire to insure the family artistic gene, the one that had managed to skip over Chloe.
Gallagher leaned back in his chair. "I would have thought the goal would be a healthy baby." Before she could answer, he placed his folded hands on the table. Those fingers were long and sure and capable of palming a basketball. "Never mind," he muttered. "There's another issue you're overlooking."
Ashtar cleared his throat. "I really think we ought to give Miss Simon time to digest this news before we explore further ramifications."
Chloe stared straight at Gallagher with icy dread. "What ramifications?"
"I banked my sperm here. I never gave permission for its use as an anonymous donation."
Chloe smoothed back the damp hair that had escaped the heavy braid down her back. The air conditioning in the building seemed to suddenly lose its battle with the outside Atlanta heat. "Well I didn't give permission for the clinic to overnight your sperm instead of the donor's I selected. So we're even."
"The only way things will be even, Miss Simon, is if you agree that the child you're carrying is just as much mine as yours."
Chloe put both hands on her womb and felt the blood drain from her face. "No."
"And while we're at it," he continued, unclasping his hands, leaning back in his chair with almost certain feigned relaxation, "I'm not delighted at all--as in, no fucking way--with the prospect of my child being born a bastard without the Gallagher name."
That did it. The churning in her belly percolated to the surface. She covered her mouth and scrambled from her chair, knowing she wasn't going to make it as far as the door, much less the hallway restroom.
Like magic, an empty wastebasket appeared before her and a strong arm supported her chest. Chloe knelt down and emptied her stomach. Gut wrenching heaves that were far too loud racked Chloe's body for what seemed like hours. When she started to calm and begin to hope that it was over, she vaguely became aware of her hair being lifted off her neck and soothing murmurs.
It was unbelievable that anyone had stayed in the room, much less right next to her. And it was, of course, inevitable that the someone was unquestionably the Sergeant. Gallagher sat down on the floor and eased her back until her head rested against his chest. "Doc. Do you think you could help me out here?" He pushed the wastebasket into Ashtar's hands. "Get me an ice cold towel, some mouthwash and a glass of water."
Chloe just kept her eyes closed, not wanting to move. She heard furious scrambling out the door and quick orders being issued.
"Useless asshole," Gallagher muttered.
"There goes my hope for a child with eloquent verbal skills."
He stroked back the hair from her face. "You'll have to settle for concise. And effective."
Chloe heard the nurse bustle in. "I'll take over, sir."
"No," he answered. "Just give me the stuff and leave us."
"Miss Simon?" the nurse asked.
Chloe didn't want to move a muscle from where she was sprawled. It felt cooler down here on the floor and nice to be taken care of for a change. His chest was solid and reassuring against her back. She didn't open her eyes or even think twice. "I'll be fine." Any year now.
The wet cloth on her forehead and neck felt like heaven, as did the mouthwash and sips of water. She gradually felt her strength returning and sighed. This unpleasant interlude had not erased the problems she faced. "I need to get up."
"Wait a second." He looked down at her. "It may have slipped by you. Or maybe the urge to vomit was your reaction. But bringing up the Gallagher name for our baby was kind of a marriage proposal."
"Noooooo." She wanted to scream. "Anonymous was supposed to be just that. It was supposed to be just me and my baby." She scowled at him. "No overbearing father. No in-laws. No custody battles."
His green eyes narrowed. "I have two questions for you. Are you married?"
"Are you a lesbian?"
"Then anything else can be dealt with. I have a plan." He lifted her easily to her feet as if she was some elfin sprite instead of a pregnant woman who hadn't been called petite since, well, ever. He was still supporting her forearms, standing right in front of her when he showed perfect white teeth in a traffic-stopping smile. "You'll find that I'm very good at planning."