Two

      “How much farther?”

      “About five miles.” Mac scratched his chin. “About a quarter mile less than the last time you asked me. Is there a problem?”

      Now there was a hysterically funny question, Kelly thought dryly. She was freshly married to a stranger. The kiss that sealed their vows had shaken her socks off. The snowstorm had escalated to a mean-cold, wind-howling blizzard, with snow slooshing down so hard that even Mac’s elegant Mercedes’s windshield wipers could barely keep up. They’d turned off the highway a while back, and she hadn’t seen a single car on the road since, much less buildings or lights or any sign of civilized rescue potential if they got stranded—assuming they found anything open this late on a New Year’s Eve.

      Offhand, yeah, she thought they had a few problems. Yet all those details seemed itsy bitsy compared to the serious problem troubling Kelly at the moment. “How long does it usually take you to drive home from the Fortune headquarters?”

      “Fifteen minutes, twenty max. But it’s pretty hard to move faster than a crawl pace with this snow.”

      “I know, Mac. I didn’t mean to sound impatient.”

      “You’re not cold, are you? Because I could turn up the heat—”

      “No, I’m fine.” He’d already cranked up the heater and defroster to full blast. She couldn’t be warmer if she were curled up in front of an oven.

      “If you’re tired, you can put the seat back—”

      His concern touched her, but the subject of exhaustion again teased her sense of irony. If anything in life were normal, she’d be snoozing right now. From the beginning of the pregnancy, she’d been prone to nap at the drop of a hat. And after all the stress of the wedding and reception, technically she should be as comatose as a zombie. But that kiss from Mac had shaken her whole equilibrium.

      She knew he’d meant nothing by it. She knew she was imagining a potent, sizzling connection that had never happened. It was just hormones again. Kelly had had seven months to discover that pregnancy made a woman emotionally goofy. Impatiently she twisted in her seat. “I’m fine, not the least tired. And the car couldn’t be more comfortable,” she assured him.

      Mac glanced at her again as if unconvinced, but of necessity his gaze zipped swiftly back to the road. She could barely see his face in the pitch-dark car—just a glimpse of his patrician profile and a flash of his dark eyes now and then. There simply wasn’t enough light to judge from his expression what he might be thinking—about the wedding or the weather or anything else. From the tone of his voice, though, Kelly understood he was deliberately trying to sound calm and quietly reassuring. “If you’re worried about the weather, try to take it easy. I’ve lived here all my life, which means I’ve driven in a hundred blizzards. This one has the makings of a doozy—I think we could be socked in for a couple of days—but we’ll be under cover before the worst of it hits. The roads are rough, but the problem is snow, not ice. Trust me, we’re not going to have any trouble making it home.”

      “That’s good to hear.”

      But when Mac caught her shifting in her seat again, he seemed to think his previous reassurances hadn’t been enough. “Kelly... this whole day’s been a pressure cooker, and I know you have to be worried about things. All kinds of things. But we were both honest with each other going into this, and we both want the same thing—to make this work out. I think if we just take it slow and easy, we’ll find answers for whatever we need to, one problem at a time. Try and believe it’s going to be okay, all right?”

      Kelly clipped back a sigh. Mac was not only trying to be considerate and reassuring—he was doing a damn fine job of it. He’d been downright wonderful at the wedding reception, sticking to her side, anticipating problems before they developed. Something had upset her maid of honor, because Renee had turned stark white after a conversation with her father and disappeared almost immediately after. That wouldn’t have mattered except that Kelly had counted on Mollie to stay close during the reception, and her closest friend had suddenly left early, too. Both had left without a word, which was so unlike either woman that Kelly had worried...but at the time of the reception, she’d really had her hands full.

      Mac’s family was unquestionably supportive for this wedding, but there wasn’t a shy Fortune in the bunch. Their nosiness came from caring, but she’d felt painfully stranded with the now-you’re-family-you-can-tell-me questions. What kind of relationship did she and Mac actually have? How well did she really know Mac? Had either of them heard from Chad? Did Chad even know about this marriage?

      Kelly had been heart and soul in love with Chad, but it took sleeping with him to understand that his interest in her was purely seduction, the new conquest. Since then she’d heard rumors that he had taken off with another woman—also some scandal about a paternity suit with another girl. But she’d figured out the measure of Chad long before the first pregnancy test—and her own naiveté in the relationship as well. She’d never have married him, but neither did she want to air the personal details of a painful mistake to anyone, much less publicly. And every time one of those awkward, prying questions surfaced, Mac had shown up like a magician. He never cut anyone off. He was always nice. But no one even tried to misbehave when Mac was around—cripes, even Kate seemed to instinctively defer to him.

      Kelly had the humorous impression of a wolf watching out for his lamb—and that rare feeling of being protected had been welcomed. Then. But not now. Now that they were totally alone together, she remembered how much he intimidated her, too. His being a sexy hunk only made her feel more awkward. That velvet-soft baritone of his was curling her toes—but not because of some hormonal response. She just couldn’t face bringing up an indelicate problem with the formal, elegant, dauntingly sexy and formidable Financial V.P. for the whole darned Fortune empire. Kelly squirmed in her seat again.

      “With road conditions this rough, I really think the seat belt’s essential, but they can’t have made those things for a pregnant woman. If you’re uncomfortable—”

      Well, spit. Apparently Mac had perceived there was something wrong and he wasn’t going to let it go until she confessed the reason. And it wasn’t as if she had a choice about staying silent more than another two seconds, anyway. “Mac, I am uncomfortable. But the problem isn’t the seat belt or being married or the heat or the weather. It’s that I have to go to the bathroom.”

      “Oh. Um—right now? We really should be home within twenty minutes—”

      “I realize this is hard to believe if you’ve never been seven months pregnant. But twenty minutes from now, I’ll be desperate to go all over again. So that won’t exactly solve the immediate problem.”

      “Okay. No reason to be embarrassed. Everything’s fine. It just may take me a few minutes to find a gas station. There isn’t much open on New Year’s Eve, and I’m afraid we’re a little removed from—”

      “Mac.”

      “What?”

      “Pull over.”

      “Pull over? Honey, we’re in the middle of a blizzard in subzero temperatures—”

      She heard the “honey” and felt a wave of sympathy for her poor groom. She’d never seen MacKenzie/Mac Fortune flustered before—even by the threat