Passionate Pregnancies: Enticed by His Forgotten Lover / Wanted by Her Lost Love / Tempted by Her Innocent Kiss

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 funny,” Rafael muttered. “What are you doing here?” He took Bryony’s hand in his.

Devon raised one lazy brow. “Just checking in on you and Bryony. I heard there was some excitement yesterday.”

Bryony grimaced and automatically put her other hand to the bruise she’d forgotten about until now.

“As you can see, she’s fine,” Rafael said. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re going up so she can change into some warmer clothing.”

“Actually I was checking on you,” Devon said with a grin. “Bryony strikes me as someone who can take care of herself.”

Bryony cleared her throat as the moment grew more awkward. Devon wasn’t worried about her. He was worried about Rafael in her clutches. Her face warm with embarrassment, she extricated her hand from Rafael’s grasp.

“I’ll just go up and leave you to, uh, talk. Did you leave the door unlocked?” Or whatever it was they did in these kinds of apartments. Rafael fished in his pocket and then held out a card. “You’ll need this for the elevator.”

She tucked it into her hand and hurried toward the door after a small wave in Devon’s direction.

The two men watched her go and then Rafael turned to his friend with a frown. “What was that all about?”

Devon shrugged. “Just checking in on you, like I said. You’ve had a lot to digest over the past couple of days. Wanted to see how you were holding up and whether you’d remembered anything.”

Rafael grimaced and then shoved Devon toward the door. “Let’s at least go inside. It’s cold out here.”

The two men stopped in the coffee shop off the main lobby and Rafael requested the table by the fire.

“Things are fine,” Rafael said after they were seated. “I don’t want you worrying, nor do I want you plotting with Ryan and Cam to protect me for my own good.”

Devon sighed. “Even if I think this idea of yours to jet off to this island is a damn foolish idea?”

“Especially then.”

Devon sipped at his coffee and didn’t even attempt to sugarcoat his question. But then that wasn’t Devon. He was blunt, if anything. Cut and dried. Practical to a fault.