Chapter One

Not Pregnant.

Liz Riley sat in her bathroom, crushing disappointment tightening her stomach as she stared at the pregnancy test.

Not pregnant. Again.

Her period was three days late. She’d been so certain this time.

Dammit. The word failure wasn’t in her lexicon. She’d always succeeded, usually found a way to get what she wanted. Even when faced with a temporary roadblock, she wrangled her way around it and won. She was one of the best sports agents in the business, and always got what she wanted.

But that was business, and this was personal. For the past year, she’d tried—and failed—numerous times to get pregnant.

She tossed the stick into the trash and stared at herself in the mirror.

“This sucks.”

“What sucks?”

She whirled to face her husband, Gavin, the love of her life and the only man who could have ever made her want to have a baby.

She twined her arms around him. “Nothing. Okay, it’s something. I might have a pimple coming up on my chin.”

He gasped. “Oh, God, no. Not a pimple. It’s the end of the world.”

She glared. “This is serious.”

He tilted her chin up. “There’s nothing on your chin. And even if there was, you’d still be the sexiest damn redhead I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

He pressed a kiss to her chin, then let his lips trail down over her neck. Her woes temporarily forgotten, she leaned against him, loving the feel of his body pressed along hers. He’d just gotten out of the shower, and the fresh, clean scent of him never failed to hit all of her hot buttons.

Then again, she liked him sweaty, too. After a practice or a game, with dirt and perspiration rolling down his face, he wore his work on his body, and she loved him that way.

As his former agent, she knew how hard he worked at baseball. He was the best first baseman she’d ever represented. Of course, as soon as they’d fallen in love, she’d had to bow out of representing him, but she never stopped appreciating what a fine specimen of an athlete he was.

Or what an amazing and giving lover he was.

Like now, as he set her on the bathroom counter, spread her legs and dropped to his knees, burying his face between her thighs.

She shuddered as he slid his tongue along her sex. Gavin always knew exactly how to pleasure her.

“Oh, yes,” she murmured, sliding her fingers through the softness of his hair, directing him to where she needed his mouth. And when he hummed against her clit, she arched against him, so close already she could come right now.

But not yet, not when the sensations he brought out of her with his tongue were so delicious. She wanted to wait just a little longer.

The distant sounds of knocking permeated her senses. But she was right on the edge, so close to coming that she blocked everything else.