The Boss's Baby Mistake. Raye Morgan
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am really very sorry for your loss,” he said instead, after giving her a moment to compose herself.
When her gaze met his again, her eyes were clear. “Thank you,” she said calmly.
He felt a sense of relief. She was okay. She wasn’t going to break down. He was glad of that, not wanting to go soft on her. He had to keep his mind on what this was all about. She was very pretty, and seemed actually to be a very nice person. He liked her spirit, liked the way she smoothed back her beautiful mahogany hair and set her full lips, as though she was making up her mind to do something that was difficult for her. Under any other circumstances, he might even be attracted to her. Except that—hell, how could he forget?—she was seven months pregnant. Funny how he seemed to lose sight of that when he looked at her. He’d never been attracted to a pregnant woman before. He wasn’t sure that he liked it.
“This is hard on you right now,” he said gruffly. “And I’m sorry for that. But we don’t have the luxury of a lot of time. We’ve got a baby coming and we have to get things settled. Because…you see, what you do have is…part of me.”
Her eyes widened and he added quickly, “I know that isn’t what you want. But it’s the truth. And you know, if you think about it, that should make this so much simpler for you.”
“Simpler? How?”
“The baby you’re carrying isn’t what you wanted any longer. But it is exactly what I want.” He saw the shock in her eyes and he added, “I’m sure you’ll marry again. There will be other chances for you to have…well, another baby.” And he watched for her response, hoping to see if his arguments were making any sort of dent in her resolve.
She was pale and looked furious. There, you see? he thought with resignation. Logic and facts never seem to go over very well with women. Go figure.
“You’re suggesting I resign myself to having another baby?” she echoed, the outrage flashing in her eyes. Looking at Jack, she forced herself to hold back her anger and make conversation instead of blowing up at him. “What do you do for a living?” she asked shortly.
“I’m a geologist,” he responded. “How about you?”
“I’m a Web designer,” she said absently. “But I’m unemployed right now.” She looked at him. “How about a short biographical sketch?”
“Why not?” he said, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. “I was born on the family ranch in Santa Ynez, a ranch my father still works today. It was originally a Spanish land grant, established in 1820. A lot of Marins have come down the pike since then, a lot have worked that ranch.” He threw her a direct look. “Seven generations of Marins have lived in the Santa Ynez Valley. I plan to make it eight.”
He went on as their food was served and they began to eat, talking about growing up on the ranch, about his rebellious decision to go into geology instead of ranching, his father’s anger at his choice. He gave her a sketchy picture of his failed marriage and let her know he had no intention of repeating a mistake like that ever again.
She listened quietly, completely forgetting her anger. She ate sporadically from her salad and sipped her iced tea, but she didn’t taste a thing. His words were simple, but she was touched by the raw yearning she thought she could hear in them.
When he finished, she gave him a short version of her own life, how she’d been raised in Alaska and had married her father’s best friend and business partner right after her father’s death. How they had moved to California and she’d gone to technical school rather than college and learned computer programming and Web design. How her husband’s health had failed right when they had finally succeeded in conceiving a child. Or thought they had.
And all the time, she was wondering how any woman could have left a man like this. But of course, there had to be things about him that she didn’t have a clue about. And maybe she was being a sucker, falling for his sad tale. Maybe. All she knew was, if she’d had a chance at a man like Jack when she was younger, she’d have leaped tall buildings to get at it. Or climbed tall mountains, considering she’d been in Alaska. She’d married so young, and after such an isolated life, she’d never had a chance to do any dating. And later, even though she’d met many more men at work, she’d never felt comfortable with the sort of flirting other women seemed to fall into naturally with any attractive man. She was a married woman, after all.
Then she it hit her; she wasn’t married at all, not anymore.
Chapter Three
Gayle took a long, cool drink of water and cleared her throat. There didn’t seem to be anything left to say. Jack seemed to feel it, too. This conversation had run its course for now.
He paid the bill and they both rose to leave. As they walked out, he put a hand gently behind her neck to lead her to the street. She jumped when she first felt his touch, but he didn’t withdraw his hand and so she didn’t say anything. Still, it was definitely disturbing, making her skin so sensitive she had to consciously ignore it to keep from reacting, and she was relieved when he let her go once on the sidewalk.
“Where are you parked?” he asked. She told him and they started toward the parking structure.
“I don’t really need an escort,” she told him lightly. “I’ve been getting my car from parking lots for a long time now. Haven’t had a problem yet.”
He smiled but didn’t say anything, and kept right on walking with her. They had to go past a row of pink oleanders and through the old Spanish plaza with its worn bricks and colorful tile. There was a bench in front of a fountain ahead, the cascading water sparkling silvery in the sunlight. He watched her for a moment. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to let her go just yet. He told himself it was because they still hadn’t settled anything and they still needed to talk, but he knew it was more than that.
“Gayle, wait a moment.” He took her arm, stopping her. “Come sit with me over there on that bench. We still have a few things to talk about.”
She stared into his eyes for a moment, and he knew she wanted to go, wanted to get away from him. He couldn’t blame her. He’d completely disrupted her life. To her, he was nothing but a problem that she wished would evaporate. He was going to have to convince her that he was not going to disappear from the scene anytime soon.
Finally she nodded and started toward the bench. He came with her, reaching out with his handkerchief to sweep off the leaves before letting her seat herself. She brushed by him as she did so, her hair floating behind her and leaving her scent in the air. He took a deep breath, wanting more of it. She smelled like flowers, like sunshine and happiness. As he sat down beside her, he had to resist the impulse to touch her hair.
She turned to look at him and her eyes were saying, “Make this quick, mister, I want to get going.”
He grimaced. “Gayle, you’re going to have to realize, whether you like it or not, we’re tied together.”
She swallowed. “I…I’m not sure I know what you mean,” she said faintly.
“You have a part of me inside you. I want it back.”
Her eyes hardened and she faced him with her head held high. “But the only way for you to get it back is to take part of me,” she said boldly. “And I won’t give it up.”
He searched her eyes. She wasn’t going to yield. He had to admire her for that. But it didn’t help his cause.
She saw the consternation in his eyes and impulsively, reached out to touch his arm. “Believe me, if there was anything I could do to make this right for you, I would.” She shook her head. “But don’t you see? You can’t ask me to give up my baby. That just isn’t going to happen.”
She was prepared to accept anger from him, or bitterness, or even frustrated rage. But instead he smiled. And then he reached out and gently touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers, while his dark gaze slowly scanned her features.