The Misconception by Darlene Gardner Page A

she did, he smoothed her hair back from her hot forehead, his expression almost tender. His beautiful dark eyes ran over her face. He no longer seemed angry.
    “You shouldn’t be in the ladies’ room,” she said, wondering why she was whispering.
    “Who’s going to throw me out?” The corners of his mouth curved upward. The overhead fluorescent lights shone on his face, making it even more appealing. “Listen, arguing about this isn’t getting us anywhere. We both made mistakes, but the fact of the matter is that we have to deal with this situation. Agreed?”
    Marietta didn’t nod, not wanting to get caught in a trap. Just because she yearned to lean her body against his didn’t mean she could trust him.
    “The way I see it is this,” he continued. “I care about what’s best for the baby. I assume you do, too.”
    “Of course I do,” she answered weakly.
    He stroked her cheek. He was so close that she could barely think, remembering all the things they’d done to each other in that Washington D.C. hotel. As biological advantages went, his was definitely unfair.
    “Good,” he said. “It’s settled then.”
    She was watching his mouth, which could be the most appealing part of him. She remembered his lips were softer than any man’s had a right to be. “What’s settled?”
    He gave a short, decisive nod. “We’re getting married.”

Chapter 8

“Married?” The notion was so shocking that Marietta fairly shouted the word. After an hour lecturing her biology students about the intricacies of mating behavior, she’d been caught off guard because she’d nearly succumbed to lust. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”
    “Marietta?” A third voice rang out in a restroom Marietta thought contained two people. Worse, she recognized the voice. “Mari, it’s Tracy. Is that you in the stall? Are you talking to yourself?”
    “Who’s Tracy?” Jax whispered.
    “My sister,” she hissed back, mortified. Tracy had been against her conception scheme from the beginning. What would she say if she found Marietta cavorting in a restroom stall with the sperm supplier who had not only hunted her down but was trying to stake a claim on her baby?
    “Marietta? That is you in there, isn’t it? Robert Cormicle called and asked me to bring your glasses.”
    Jax opened his mouth, so Marietta clamped a hand over it. “It is me, Tracy,” she answered, warning him with her eyes to keep quiet.
    The stall doors were high, but maybe not high enough that part of Jax’s head didn’t peek over the top. Marietta prayed that Tracy wouldn’t look up.
“Were you just talking to yourself about marriage?” Tracy asked, her voice even closer to the stall.
Marietta closed her eyes. It was useless to deny it, so she had to come up with an explanation. “I’m practicing for a lecture.”
“You’re giving a lecture about marriage?” Tracy sounded dubious.
    “Yes, I am.” Marietta looked straight at Jax while she elaborated on her answer. “I’m going to air my opinions on the instability of the institution and the extreme likelihood of any union ending in divorce.”
    “You’ve got to be kidding,” Jax exclaimed so loudly that his voice carried through her hand. She removed the useless barrier and glared at him.
    “There’s a man in there with you!” Tracy said.
    “Now you’ve gone and done it,” Marietta whispered angrily. Jax shrugged and opened the stall door. Tracy gaped at him with the awed expression Marietta imagined every female who got her first look at Jax must wear.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He gallantly held out his hand as though he were greeting her sister at a cocktail reception. Tracy, of course, took it. “I’m Cash Jackson, but you can call me Jax. I take it you’re going to be my new sister-in-law.”
    “Omigod.” Tracy broke the shake and gestured wildly with her hands. “Were you proposing to her in the toilet stall?”
    “He wasn’t proposing—” Marietta began,