Accidental Surrogate for Alpha novel Chapter 97

“Well, I guess that settles that.” I muse, staring at the image dominating the narrow screen of my smart phone. Granted, it was sent by the woman I saved as “Satan’s Mistress” in my contacts and is centered right below the photo of Lydia and Sinclair in bed together, but there’s no mistaking the sight of a positive pregnancy test.

I’ve taken enough home tests in my life to understand what the two pink lines filling the small results window mean – they’re the sight I wished for a thousand times but never saw.

I’m trying to keep the pain and disappointment out of my voice so that Sinclair won’t know how upset I am, though I don’t know why I bother. It seems he can read me like a book, even at the best of times.

Whether he can sense it or not, I’m devastated to know Lydia is pregnant, that her scheme worked. Even though this solves some of our problems, I hate to think that she’s getting rewarded for her duplicity, and I despise the idea of Sinclair starting a family with anyone else – even if it’s in my baby’s best interest.

“Not yet it doesn’t.” Sinclair replies, his big body still wrapped around me in our bed. “Not until I know the test is real, and even then – it might not be my pup. I wouldn’t put anything past Lydia at this point.”

“So you have to go see her?” I guess, fighting the strange but increasingly familiar urge to growl.

“Yes.” He confirms, not sounding any more excited about it than I am. He shifts my body beneath his, balancing his weight on his elbows. “I’ll go by her hotel on my lunch break.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I question, sliding my hands over his muscular chest. “What if she tries to drug you again, or pull some other kind of trick?”

“She succeeded last time because she bribed a waitress to put something in my drink.” He reminds me, sharing the details we learned after his guards investigated the staff at the bar he’d visited that fateful night. “I didn’t know she was anywhere in the vicinity, or I would have been much more careful. I’m not going to let my guard down with her.”

“Fine,” I huff, “but if she lays a hand on you I’m going to rip her head off.” I remark, already fantasizing about doing just that.

“Oh I see,” Sinclair answers, a teasing note in his voice. “So you can rip peoples heads off but I can’t?”

“Yes.” I reply primly, “because in my case it’s just a fantasy, in yours it’s an actual possibility.”

Sinclair chuckles, nuzzling my neck and pausing to nibble the spot where it meets my shoulder. “I bet you could rip off some heads if you really wanted to.” He states, sounding as if the idea pleases him very much. “You should have seen yourself trying to go after the driver who hit me.”

“Well I guess we’ll never know, because you didn’t let me avenge you.” I grumble sullenly.

“Poor, mistreated Ella.” Sinclair croons, shifting to dip his tongue into the hollow of my clavicle. “Not allowed out of bed, not allowed to slaughter your enemies. What did you ever do to deserve such abuse?”

“You tell me, you’re the one holding the keys to my jail cell.” I challenge, arching my chest in a blatant attempt to encourage him downward. Unfortunately – or fortunately I suppose, he has enough restraint to resist.

“I promise I’ll take you anywhere you want to go just as soon as the doctor clears you, sweetheart.” Sinclair promises, lifting his head from my body.

“What ever happened to that driver anyway?” I ask, realizing that I was so distracted by my medical condition and Lydia’s scheming that I almost forgot about our would-be murderer.

“We can talk about that later.” Sinclair announces, “I have a few other updates for you, but there isn’t time now.”

I slide my knees up so I can tangle our legs together. I know he’s getting ready to scent mark me, which means he’s also getting ready to leave for the day. However, being stuck on best rest has made me a bit clingy, since I can’t see Sinclair except for the times he’s home.

When he feels my legs wrapping around his own, Sinclair chuckles darkly, sparing one of his hands to stroke the length of my leg. “You trying to stop me from leaving, trouble?” He asks, pausing to massage the muscles in my calf.

“Of course not.” I lie, adopting an innocent expression. “I just like feeling close to you.”

“Mmm, I like being close to you too.” Sinclair professes warmly, kissing my pulse point. “Now be a good girl and let me scent mark you.”

Wanting to stall him, to keep him in bed with me forever, I inquire. “Dominic, if I’m on bed rest then why do you need to scent mark me? I’m not going to be seeing anyone.”