Samia

“My daughter is going to work for Jaime Dalton,” her mother shouted to Mrs. Perkins next door; there was pride in her voice. “She’s going to Miami.”

“Have fun, Cass. That Jaime Dalton has a cute ass. Tell him I said that, okay?” Mrs. Perkins was somewhere in her seventies, still very active, with a wicked sense of humor and was man crazy.

“I’ll do that, Mrs. P.”

“Have a good time, dear, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Thelma, don’t scare the girl, you know there isn’t much out there you wouldn’t do.”
― Mercy Celeste, Wicked Game

“She broke off again and buried her face in her hands. He wanted to go to her, take her in his arms, but he was afraid that just as he’d rejected her before, so would she reject him now.

She yanked her hands down, her face ragged and ravaged by grief, the same grief that was tearing through him.

“I should have been able to come to you,” she whispered. “Of all the people in the world, you should have been the one to believe in me. And I just can’t get past that. You should have been the one to hold me and tell me it would be all right. I was so excited that day. I took a pregnancy test that morning and found out I was pregnant. I was so excited and nervous. So worried about how you’d react. But so thrilled that I was pregnant with your child.”

She broke off again, sobs tearing from her throat. She buried her face in her hands as her shoulders shook violently.

“Kelly, I’m so sorry. I thought… He was my brother. I never considered he would do something like that. He’d never shown any animosity toward you. He’d never been anything but accepting of you. The two of you seemed to get along well. I never dreamed he’d do something that despicable.”

She raised her head and stared at him with dull eyes. “But you thought I would.”

The sudden silence was damning. He stared at her, completely frozen. He had no defense because at the time he’d believed Jarrod. He’d made his choice and it hadn’t been Kelly. Even when she’d begged him. She’d told him the truth. She’d come to him for protection. She’d come to him hurt and afraid. And he’d thrown her out after making her feel like a whore.”
― Maya Banks, Wanted by Her Lost Love

“The Guy let out a grunt of what was clearly resentment, mingled with please-fuck-offness.”
― Eve Dangerfield, Act Your Age

“Then the events leading up to her collapse came back to her in a flash. Her hands flew automatically to her belly and she was only partially reassured to feel the tight ball there. Was her baby okay? Was she herself okay?

She blinked harder to bring the room more into focus. There was light shining through a crack in the bathroom door. A glance at the blinds told her that it was dark outside.

Then her gaze fell on the chair beside her bed and she found Ryan staring at her, his gaze intense. She flinched away from the raw emotion shining in his blue eyes.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “How are you feeling?”

“Numb,” she answered before she could think better of it. “Kind of blank. My head doesn’t hurt anymore. Are my feet still swollen?”

He carefully picked up the sheet and pushed it over her feet. “Maybe a little. Not as bad as they were. They’ve been giving you meds and they’re monitoring the baby.”

“How is she?” Kelly asked, a knot of fear in her throat.

“For now, she’s doing fine. Your blood pressure stabilized, but they might have to do a C-section if it goes back up or if the baby starts showing signs of distress.”

Kelly closed her eyes and then suddenly Ryan was close to her, holding her, his lips pressed against her temple.

“Don’t worry, love,” he murmured. “You’re supposed to stay calm. You’re getting the best possible care. I’ve made sure of it. They’re monitoring you round-the-clock. And the doctor said the baby has an excellent prognosis at thirty-four weeks’ gestation.”

She sagged against the pillow and closed her eyes. Relief pulsed through her but she was so tired she couldn’t muster the energy to do anything more than lie there thanking God that her baby was okay.

“I’m going to take care of you, Kell,” Ryan said softly against her temple. “You and our baby. Nothing will ever hurt you again. I swear it.”

Tears burned her eyelids. She was emotionally and physically exhausted and didn’t have the strength to argue. Something inside her was broken and she had no idea how to fix it. She felt so…disconnected.”
― Maya Banks, Wanted by Her Lost Love