All of which were delightful, but she was used to being surrounded by friends and coworkers. People to talk to. And as much as she’d tried, the parrot hadn’t said a peep. Mandy sipped her virgin daiquiri and wondered for the hundredth time why Damien had brought her on this trip. He didn’t need her here, clearly.

Which left her to read an article on the risks of pregnancy when using condoms.

Many pregnancies result from the condom breaking or a hole in the latex, but just as many pregnancies are the result of improper use.

How did one use a condom incorrectly? Stick it on their ear?

Many men try to put the condom on inside out, realize their mistake, and flip it over, thereby inserting the condom with seminal fluid already present directly in the vagina.

Oh, my God.

Ben had been notorious for doing that.

“Well, that explains a thing or two,” she said out loud, tempted to fax the article to Ben. At his office.

“Explains what?” Damien asked from right behind her shoulder.

Damn. Mandy jumped in the chair and slapped the magazine closed. Hell, there was a cue-ball-headed baby on the cover, grinning for all he was worth. She flipped it to the back cover, which was a teary-eyed toddler gazing at the mess he’d made on the floor.

She shoved it in her bag. Which left her stomach completely exposed to his view.

Her bare, pregnant stomach, popping up above her bikini bottoms. She raised her knees to de-emphasize the bubble below her belly button.

“Nothing, just muttering to myself.” Mandy shielded her eyes from the sun and turned to look back at him. “So you decided to actually leave your room?”

Complex and mysterious woman that she was, she found herself equal parts thrilled and horrified to see him. Or maybe she was just idiotic.

Damien dropped into the chair next to her and kicked his sandals off in the sand. “I figured the guys back at work would give me a hard time if I came home as white as when I left.”

“That’s true.” Mandy tried to command herself not to look at his body, but it was hopeless. Already she was raking up and down him like a starving woman at a feast. Or like a horny pregnant woman having sexual dreams about her boss.

He was sickeningly flawless. Broad chest, a smattering of hair across his well-defined pectorals, a ripped washboard stomach. When he sat back on the lounger, he brought his arms up to cup his head, and Mandy sighed.

Those were the kind of arms a woman just wanted to sink into.

If she weren’t pregnant and hiding the fact from her boss.