The Stud Read Online Free PDF

Spencer said. "What if you don't conceive right away? I can't be running back here month after month to fill little jars with—"
    Caroline interrupted. "Uh, I think I hear Annie calling. " Dropping away from Spencer, she leaned close to Jenna. "Love your hair ribbon. It looks slightly Milan. An Armani derivative, maybe?" With a wink, she was off.
    Jenna gently released the necktie and handed it back to Spencer. "The wind isn't bad up here. Thanks. "
    "You should have left it on. It looked risque. But then—" his eyes touched hers "—you're not the risque type. You're straight-laced and conservative and proper. I can't believe you're thinking of having a child out of wedlock. "
    "What an outdated expression. "
    "It describes what you're doing. "
    "Lots of women are doing it"
    "Women in prominent positions like yours?"
    "Some. "
    "It's very daring. "
    She didn't blink. "Okay, so I'm daring. "
    "I wouldn't have thought that of you. "
    "Most people wouldn't, but I really don't care. I want a child. I'm willing to be daring to get it. Will you help?"
    He grimaced. "Hell, Jenna, you don't know what you're asking. "
    "I do. I—"
    She was interrupted by Spencer's father, who hailed them as he crossed the lawn toward his son. "Come see the Watsons, Spence. They've been asking for you all afternoon, and they have to leave soon. " He threw an arm around Spencer's shoulder, which was level with his. Spencer had clearly inherited his blue eyes from his father, but Joe's blue, like his hair, had paled with age. "They weren't here the last time you were home, and they may not be here the next. How 'bout it?"
    "Sure, " Spencer said.
    Jenna shot him a look that said "Coward. "
    He regarded her with deliberate poise. "Want to come see the Watsons with me?"
    Jenna had seen the Watsons earlier, which was more than enough for her. They were well advanced in age and profoundly hard of hearing. Conversations with them were exercises in futility. The most one could do was to smile, nod or laugh in response to whatever they chose to say, and since most of what they chose to say was based on their warped perception of what the rest of the world had to say, the encounter was often painful. Jenna could just imagine their seeing her with Spencer and drawing the kind of conclusion that she didn't want. Worse, she could imagine them airing that conclusion in the loud voices for which they were known.
    "Thanks, " she said with a sweet smile, "but I think I'll go comb my hair. It's a mess. "
    "Join us when you're done, " the elder Smith invited. "You look good beside Spence. "
    Dying a little inside, Jenna turned away, but not fast enough to miss the scowl Spencer sent her. She hadn't taken more than two steps before she realized he still had her shoes. When she turned back, he was taking them from his pockets. He separated himself from his father long enough to return them.
    "He smells something, " he muttered.
    "Not from me. "
    "Did Caroline talk?"
    "She promised she wouldn't. "
    "If he starts pushing, I'm outta here. "
    "If he starts pushing, tell him to mind his own business. "
    Spencer snorted, shoved the shoes into her hands and turned back to his father. Without further ado, Jenna went on toward the house, but it wasn't until she was upstairs, leaning back against the door in the privacy of the bathroom adjoining Caroline's childhood bedroom, that she put a hand to her heart, closed her eyes and wondered where she stood.
    He hadn't said yes.
    He hadn't said no.
    She slipped the hand to her belly, where it rested ever so lightly. Oh, how she wanted a baby. The longing was an ache deep inside, a tingle of anticipation, a shimmer of excitement. She pictured her womb, pictured an embryo forming in the vaguest of human shapes, pictured that embryo evolving into a fetus. Her breasts seemed to swell at the thought, then her heart when she imagined that fetus becoming a ready-to-be-bom child.
    If she had to, she would use the sperm bank. But the warmth