Passionate Pregnancies. Maya Banks

Passionate Pregnancies - Maya Banks


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you’ve been off the island. Haven’t you ever been anywhere it snowed before?”

      She shrugged. “I don’t leave much. Mamaw needs me. I go to Galveston to do our shopping, but I do a lot of it online.”

      He saw her cast sidelong glances at the window as if she were afraid the snow would disappear at any moment. Then he sighed. “Give me five minutes to get dressed and I’ll go down with you.”

      Her smile lit up the entire room and he was left with the feeling that someone had just punched him in the stomach. She nearly danced from his bedroom and shut the door behind her.

      Slowly he dropped the sheet to the floor and stared down at his groin. “Traitor,” he muttered.

      He went into the bathroom, splashed water on his face and surveyed his unshaven jaw with a grimace. He never left his apartment without looking his best. There wasn’t time for even a shower. The lunatic was probably already outside dancing in the snow.

      He brushed his teeth and then went to his closet to pull out a pair of slacks and a sweater. He realized that since she’d never seen snow, she’d hardly be dressed for it, so he pulled a scarf and a cap from the top shelf.

      Any of his jackets or coats would swallow her whole so he’d simply have to limit her snow gazing to a short period of time.

      After donning his overcoat, he walked out of his bedroom to find Bryony glued to the window in the living room. Big flakes spiraled downward and her smile was like a child’s at Christmas.

      “Here,” he said gruffly. “If you’re going to go out, you need warmer things.”

      She turned and stared at the scarf and cap he held out and then reached for them, but he waved her hand off and looped the scarf around her neck himself, pulling her closer.

      “You probably don’t even know how to put one on,” he muttered.

      After wrapping the scarf around her neck, he arranged the cap over her curls and stepped back. She looked … damn cute.

      Before he could do something idiotic, he turned and gestured toward the door. “Your snow awaits.”

      Bryony walked into the small courtyard that adjoined the apartment building, surprised that it was empty. How could everyone just stay inside on such a beautiful day? As soon as one of the flakes landed on her nose, she turned her face up and laughed as more drifted onto her cheeks and clung to her lashes.

      She held out her hands and turned in a circle. Oh, it was marvelous and so pretty. There was just a light dusting on the patio surface, but along the fence railing and the edges of the stone planters, there was enough accumulation for her to scoop into a ball.

      She scraped her hands together until she had a sizeable amount of snow and then she turned to grin at Rafael. He regarded her warily and then held up his hand in warning.

      “Don’t even think …”

      Before he could finish, she let fly and he barely had time to blink before the snowball exploded in his face.

      “… about it,” he finished as ice slid down his cheek.

      He glared at her but she giggled and hastily formed another snowball.

      “Oh, hell no,” Rafael growled.

      As she turned to hurl it in his direction, a snowball hit the side of her face and melting ice slid down her neck, eliciting a shiver.

      “I see you couldn’t resist,” she said with a smirk.

      “Resist what?”

      “Playing. But who could resist snow?”

      He scowled. “I wasn’t playing. I was retaliating. Now come on. You’ve seen the snow. We should go back inside. It’s cold out here.”

      “Well, duh. It is snowing,” she said. “It’s supposed to be cold.”

      Ignoring his look of exasperation, she hurled another snowball. He ducked and she ran for cover when she saw the gleam in his eyes. She hastily formed another snowball then peered around one of the hedges in time to get smacked by his. Right between the eyes.

      “For someone who doesn’t play in the snow, your snowball fighting is sure good,” she muttered.

      She waited until he went for more snow and she nailed him right in the ass. He spun around, wiping at his expensive slacks—but who wore slacks to play in the snow for Pete’s sake?—and then lobbed another ball in her direction.

      She easily dodged this one and nailed him with another on the shoulder.

      “I hope you know this means war,” he declared.

      She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I made you lose that stuffy attitude once. I’ll do it again.”

      His eyes narrowed in confusion and she used his momentary inattention to plaster him in his face.

      Wiping the slush from his eyes, he began to stalk toward her, determination twisting his lips.

      “Uh-oh,” she murmured and began backtracking.

      There wasn’t a whole lot of room for evasion in the small garden, and unless she wanted to run back inside, there wasn’t anywhere to go. Since it was probably his plan to herd her back indoors, she decided to meet him head-on and weather whatever attack he had in mind.

      She began scooping and pelting him with a furious barrage of snow. He swore as he twisted and ducked and then he made a sound of resignation and began scooping snow from the stone benches and hurling it back at her as fast as he could.

      Unfortunately for her, his aim was a lot better and after six direct hits in a row, she raised her hands and cried, “Uncle!”

      “Now why don’t I believe you?” he asked as he stared cautiously at her, his hand cocked back to blast her with another snowball.

      She gave him her best smile of innocence and raised her empty hands, palms up. “You win. I’m freezing.”

      He dropped the snowball and then strode forward to grasp her shoulders. He swept that imperious gaze up and down her body, much like he’d done the first time they’d met. This time it didn’t rankle, for she knew that beneath that boring, straight-laced hauteur lay a fun-loving man just aching to get out. She just had to free him. Again.

      She sighed at the unfairness of it all. It was like some sick joke being played on her by fate. Karma maybe. Though she was sure she’d done nothing so hideous as to have the love of her life and father of her child regard her as a complete stranger.

      She shivered and Rafael frowned. “We should go inside at once. You aren’t dressed for the weather. Did you bring nothing at all to wear for colder weather?”

      She shook her head ruefully.

      “We’ll need to go shopping then.”

      She shook her head again. “There isn’t a point. We’ll be leaving to go back to Moon Island and it’s still quite warm there.”

      “And in the meantime you’ll freeze,” he said darkly.

      She rolled her eyes.

      “You at least need a coat. I’ll send out for one. Do you have a preference? Fur? Leather?”

      “Uh, just a coat. Nothing exotic.”

      He made a dismissive gesture with his hands as if deciding that consulting with her was pointless. “I’ll have it arranged.”

      She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He always did.

      “When the doorman told me you were out playing in the snow, I asked him if the real Rafael had been abducted by aliens.”

      Bryony and Rafael both swung around to see Devon Carter leaning against one of the light posts just outside the door leading back into the apartment building.

      “Very


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