Stroke of Fortune by Christine Rimmer Page A

not a good idea.” He started to turn.
    She caught his hand. “Wait.”
    He froze.
    Josie twined her fingers with his. He allowed her to do that—not that he gave her a reassuring squeeze or anything, but he didn’t yank away. She would think of that as a good sign.
    â€œPlease,” she whispered. “Let me say what I have to say.”
    She could feel his eyes on her, studying her. Finally he agreed. “All right.”
    â€œCome on.” She slid around him, keeping hold of his hand. “Let’s go where we won’t wake the baby.” She tugged him toward the double doors of the sitting room across the hall.
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    Should he have let her drag him into the other room? Probably not. But Flynt found himself going where she led him, anyway.
    Once she got him there, she let go of his hand. He moved toward the sofa and she paused at the doors to make certain they were both firmly shut.
    Flynt switched on a floor lamp at the end of the sofa, then turned as Josie came toward him. God, she was beautiful. She wore flared jeans that hugged her hips and a snug little shirt with cap sleeves. The lamplight gleamed off her pale, straight hair. Those green eyes were focused on his face and the look in them was way too knowing. She kept coming, until she was right next to him and he caught the tempting scent of her.
    He gestured at the sofa beside them, waited until she sat down and then moved away and took one of the two velvet wing chairs on the other side of the big coffee table.
    They regarded each other. He was frowning, but a soft smile curved that mouth of hers. Her eyes gently reproached him for his little trick of luring her to the couch—and then not staying there to sit beside her.
    She stated the obvious. “The past few days you’ve been avoiding me.”
    He answered with caution. “It seemed like the best way to handle things.”
    â€œWhy?”
    He felt his frown deepen to a scowl. Why? was herfavorite question lately. She seemed to ask it every chance she got.
    He was tired of responding to it. Especially since she never accepted the answers he gave her, anyway.
    She must have seen that he intended to stonewall on that one. She spoke again. “You’re planning to ask me to marry you, right? As soon as you get the paternity test results.”
    He almost blinked. But not quite. “Got it all figured out, huh?”
    â€œPretty much. Right now you’re denying yourself. And me. I guess it makes you feel noble to do that, right?” He saw no need to reply. So he didn’t. She went right on, anyway. “Well, I don’t see any real point in your staying away from me. Especially if you’re thinking that we’re going to get married soon. It makes no sense. It’s just plain dumb.”
    â€œThanks for your input. Is that it?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhat else, then?”
    â€œI think it’s pretty obvious. I want you to stop avoiding me.” Now she was frowning, leaning forward across the coffee table.
    He found himself thinking back on what she’d said a minute ago. About them getting married as soon as the test results came through. He realized this could be progress they were making here. “Just a minute. Is this your roundabout way of telling me that you’re Lena’s—”
    She was shaking her head. “Don’t even say it. You know what we agreed.”
    He told himself to ignore his own disappointment. She was right. They did have an understanding and he ought to abide by it. “Fine.”
    She said, “I just think, well, I hate to see us waste this time. Time is precious, Flynt. Most people don’t realize how precious until most of it is gone.” She had a pair of canvas sneakers on her feet, the kind with thick soles and round toes. Right then she leaned her elbows on her knees and stared down at those sneakers, as if the answer to some important question might have