The Playboy’s Unexpected Bride. Sandra Marton
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get where they were meant to go.
Midmorning, just as Linc was getting ready to leave for the Waldorf, his clients walked in. So sorry, they said, they knew they were early, but…
The baby chose that moment to wake up.
Her face turned pink. Her rosebud mouth pursed. Linc snatched her from her sleeping place before she could shriek.
She smiled, drooled, and—there was a God after all—his clients melted. The meeting went on, the baby gurgled and smiled. Finally, mercifully, his clients left.
Linc started to put the baby in the crib. She began to whimper.
“She’s hungry,” his PA said helpfully.
Linc looked at her. Looked at the baby. Then he handed the kid over.
“Feed her,” he commanded.
His PA started to say something, thought better of it, turned away, opened the door…
Someone brushed by her and walked in. Strode in, was more like it.
A blonde. Tall. Slender. Wearing a black suit, black spiked heels and with a sleek black leather attaché case hanging from a strap across her shoulder. The look on her face meant trouble as she marched toward him, stopped a foot from his desk and slapped her hands on her hips.
Linc’s green eyes narrowed. His temper was hot, his patience shredded, his exhaustion a black cloud waiting to burst loose with thunder and lightning…
Holy hell!
The blonde was Ana Maria Marques.
Linc scraped back his chair and jumped to his feet. “What are you doing here?”
“You made my father a promise, Senhor Aldridge. I do not think he will be pleased when he hears that you intend to renege on it.”
The baby let out a cry. Linc let out a groan. And assumed, as any intelligent man would, that he had somehow fallen through a wormhole in space and emerged in a nightmare.
AS A boy, Lincoln had taught himself Tai Chi.
Well, maybe not Tai Chi, precisely. The classes had been held after school; they’d cost money and no way would his mother have been able to afford them. Hell, there was no way she’d have paid for something he’d wanted even if she’d been able to afford it.
But he’d spied on the class by cracking open the locker-room door, and he’d learned. Not the finer points, perhaps, but enough to find Tai Chi useful.
The ancient Chinese martial art was as much about self-control as it was about physical strength.
Eventually, he’d figured out that was something you could apply to life in general. He’d used that realization over the years and he thought of it now as he fought the growing tension inside him.
Too bad you didn’t think about Tai Chi when you first met this babe, a smug voice inside him said.
Linc ignored it. He’d made a fool of himself with her once. It wouldn’t happen again. Besides, Ana Maria Marques looked as furious as he felt.
She also looked spectacular, every man’s dream of a dressed-for-success female, the black suit elegant and proper, yet somehow hinting at the rounded contours of her body, the black pumps discreet until you took a look at the height of those heels and what they did for her long, lean legs.
His PA had stepped back into the room, the baby pressed to her shoulder, a bewildered look on her face.
“Sir? My apologies. I don’t know why Reception let this woman—”
“It’s all right, Sarah.”
“If the lady has an appointment, I don’t have anything in my calendar about it.”
“If you think you are going to throw me out because I don’t have an appointment,” Ana said hotly, “I assure you, Senhor Aldridge, you are not!”
A muscle flexed in Linc’s jaw but his tone was calm.
“Thank you, Sarah. Shut the door, please. I’ll ring if I need you.”
The door swung shut. Ana didn’t blink. She simply glared at him.
Linc folded his arms. “Explain yourself.”
“You have it wrong, senhor.You are the one who must do the explaining. To me. Or, if you prefer, to my father.”
What in hell was she talking about? Better still, what was she doing here? The last he’d seen, she’d been pretending to be a dutiful daughter while her old man worked up the courage to offer her as a bride. In fact, Marques had been so caught up in the offer that he’d gone on talking even as Linc ran out the door that night.
His gut knotted. Had he missed something? Agreed to something? Was that night about to bite him in the tail?
“Because if you think I will not tell him how you have treated me—”
“Sit down, Miss Marques.”
He spoke sharply, his words slicing across hers. It worked. Not that she sat down. He hadn’t really expected that. But at least she shut up.
Linc took the chair behind his desk, folded his hands on its glass surface and looked at her. How many Ana Marias were there? Three, so far. The sexy night-stalker. The demure innocent.And now this gorgeous sophisticate.
Which was the real woman?
“When you’re done mentally undressing me,” she said coldly, “perhaps we can get down to business.”
Linc raised one dark eyebrow.
“Trust me, Miss Marques. If I wanted to undress you, I wouldn’t be satisfied with doing it mentally.” He paused. “And neither would you.”
A flush rose in her cheeks. “Would you force yourself on me again, senhor? As you did the night we met?”
“Is that why you returned my kiss? Because I ‘forced’ myself on you?”
“I did not return it. And I am not about to be drawn away from the topic at hand.”
“What were you doing in that garden?”
“I just said—”
“Among other things, you blew past my best security system.”
She smiled the way a cat might when confronted with a delectable mouse. “Indeed, I did.”
Time to change direction. “Do you make it a habit to sneak around at night?”
“Do you make it a habit to force yourself on women?”
Back to the beginning. Linc sighed. “Let’s move on, Miss Marques. What are you doing here?”
“I am here because of the promise you made my father Have you conveniently forgotten? Or did you hope I would not wish to follow through on it? Is that the game?”
Calmer now, Linc decided this couldn’t concern a marriage proposal. Her father would be with her if it were. Still, he had no idea what she was talking about but only a fool would have admitted it. Instead, he sat back and flashed a cool smile.
“Why don’t you tell me, Miss Marques? You seem to have all the answers.”
He was afraid it sounded like a desperate ploy but it worked. A moment’s hesitation and then she marched to one of the chairs in front of his desk, sat down, crossed her legs and propped the attaché case in her lap. The pencil-slim skirt of her black suit rode up her golden thighs.
“My father asked a favor of you.”
Linc dragged his gaze to her face.
“Funny.