he said for the tenth time. “Careful there.” He tugged at his leg, which was pinned beneath the lower edge of the wall.“I’ve got it.” Raine sniffed against more tears. Concentrate. She had to concentrate on what needed to be done right now.There would be time for tears later. In private.The wall gave suddenly, sending her staggering back, where she collided with an immovable male body. She didn’t need to turn to know instantly who it was. Her senses were attuned to Max, damn them.Damn him.“Leave it,” he ordered with enough bite in his tone to have her bristling in return.“I can do it.” She turned her back on him, hoping he’d go away. Far away. The sting of his logic was too fresh for her to deal with. Too true to brush off.She hadn’t wanted Rory’s child, hadn’t wanted the responsibility of single motherhood. She’d even considered the alternative before deciding it wasn’t the right choice for her, practicalities aside. But what Max didn’t know, or chose not to remember, was that in those last few days before her miscarriage, in the days he’d been watching over her, her growing child had gone from being “the pregnancy”
