““I was,” she said, then winced. Stupid. She never should have told him that. Should have said her big, burly, football-playing husband and eight of his biggest friends were in the next room. Too late now. “You’re pregnant,” he said. “You’re a genius,” she muttered, and reached toward the table. Keeping one eye on him, she fumbled for something else to throw at him. She’d come out of a fretful sleep to the sounds of someone crashing around in the living room. Fear had shot through her but was qu...ickly swamped by an almost overpowering sense of protectiveness. She would defend herself—and her baby—with everything she had. Even if that was only—she spared a glance at her arsenal—a paperback novel, a pad of paper and a cordless phone. Oh, God. Pitiful. Annie snatched up the phone, reared her arm back to throw it and stopped when he held up both hands, palms out, toward her. “Cease fire,” he told her. “Why should I?” “Because you might hit me.” “That’s the point.” Really, she’d never expected a burglar to be so chatty.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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