The Baby Bonus. Metsy Hingle
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been drawn to the magic of the stones rather than to their monetary value kept seeing the emerald nestled between the diamonds. The fact that the heart stone, as the emerald was known, would be all the more fitting for the occasion only compounded her desire to use it. Regan sighed again. Not only was she crazy, she decided, pushing back from her worktable, but she was a lousy businesswoman to boot. Walking across the room, she unlocked the vault and retrieved a black velvet tray of gems. She’d just placed the tray on her worktable when the intercom on the desk behind her buzzed.
“Ms. St. Claire?”
Turning, Regan hit the speaker button on the phone. “Yes, Amy,” she replied, wishing the new receptionist would call her Regan as she had asked her to do.
“There’s a Mr. Cole Thornton here to see you.”
Regan froze. Suddenly the air backed up in her lungs. Her stomach did a nosedive, and the room began to spin. Her knees wobbly, she sank down onto the chair beside the desk and tried to suck in a breath.
Cole Thornton. Here in New Orleans. To see her? After all this time?
Twelve years had passed since that horrible day when he’d looked at her with ice in his gray eyes as he’d lashed out at her before leaving town. He’d never spoken to her again. Not once. But she had never forgotten him. How could she when the city that had once shunned the dirt-poor young Cole was so eager to claim the successful real-estate mogul as one of its native sons? She’d lost count of the photos she’d seen of him at various business and charity functions over the years—the snippets of gossip about his latest acquisitions, the lavish parties he attended, the glamorous women he dated. As far as she knew, until now, he’d only returned to New Orleans once. Recalling her brief encounter with him on that one occasion still stung. Just remembering his cool indifference, the way he’d looked right through her sent a stab of pain through her. No way did she intend to put herself through that kind of anguish again. Especially not now.
“Ms. St. Claire? Should I send Mr. Thornton in?”
“No,” Regan shot back. Swallowing past the tightness in her throat, she assured herself that this rush of emotion she was experiencing was due to her pregnancy and had nothing to do with any lingering feelings she had for Cole. “Please give Mr. Thornton my apologies, Amy, and tell him I’m unavailable. Oh and, Amy, I’d appreciate it if you’d hold my calls,” she said before severing the connection.
Feeling a bit unsteady, Regan returned to her worktable and sank down to her stool. Think of work, she commanded herself. Work had been her refuge twelve years ago. It would be her refuge now. Besides, she reminded herself, she had a baby on the way and a staff who needed her to make sure Exclusives stayed afloat. Intent on removing the ruby from its setting, Regan didn’t even bother looking up when she heard the door open a few minutes later. “Whatever it is, Amy, I’ll deal with it later. I don’t have time right now.”
“Then I suggest you make time.”
The tool fell from Regan’s fingers and clattered noisily on the marble tabletop, at the sound of the voice that had once sent shivers of longing up her spine.
“Ms. St. Claire, I’m sorry,” a nervous Amy said as she rushed in behind Cole. Her eyes shifted anxiously from Regan to Cole and back again. “I tried to explain to Mr. Thornton that you couldn’t see him—”
“And I assured Amy that you would see me,” Cole replied.
“It’s all right, Amy,” Regan told the young woman in a voice that belied the fact that her heart was slamming against her ribs. “I’ll handle it.”
Amy didn’t need to be told twice. She scurried out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her. And as she watched the other woman escape, Regan fervently wished she could do the same. Bracing herself, she met Cole’s gaze.
“And just how do you plan to handle me, princess?”
Regan gritted her teeth at his use of the pet name he’d saddled her with years ago. Trying to instill ice in her voice she asked, “What do you want, Cole?”
His eyes darkened, gleamed a liquid silver, sparking memories of the nights she’d lain naked in his arms. He arched a brow. “Should I consider that an invitation?”
Color flashed up Regan’s cheeks, and she cursed her fair skin when she saw his lips twist into a smile. “Hardly,” she replied. Oh God, it simply wasn’t fair. At thirty-three, Cole was even more handsome now than he’d been at twenty-one. His hair was shorter, but just as thick and still as dark as midnight. There were faint lines etched at the corners of his eyes that hadn’t been there twelve years ago, lines that made him look harder, colder, she thought. But his eyes were still that same incredible shade of gray capable of going from frost to molten silver in an instant. His long lean body didn’t sport any extra pounds that she could detect, and she’d lay odds that the muscles beneath his designer shirt and suit were still as hard as steel. Unable to stop herself, she stared at his mouth—the mouth that had kissed her with such hunger, had tasted every inch of her body, had whispered promises of love.
“You still blush like a schoolgirl, princess,” he told her. “How is that possible?”
Flustered, Regan stood. “I don’t have time for games, Cole. I have a business to run. So why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
His mouth hardened a moment, but instead of answering, he perched himself on the edge of her table and picked up the ring she’d been working on. “Far be it from me to waste your valuable time. After all,” he said, looking from the ring to her, “I know firsthand what a high priority you place on business. That’s why I’m here. To discuss business.”
The word business hit Regan like a slap. Immediately she recalled the gorgeous redhead who had accompanied him to the fundraiser at the city’s aquarium last year. Regan’s business, her primary business, was designing one-of-a-kind rings for Exclusives. Her throat grew tight. He couldn’t possibly expect her to design a ring for his lover, she told herself. Not even Cole would be that cruel.
Unless he felt he had a reason to be cruel. And, in Cole’s eyes, he believed he had a reason. He thought she had betrayed him. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t. He’d never believed her when she’d come to him later and tried to explain the reasons she’d had their marriage annulled, that she’d done it to save him. The result had been the same. She’d hurt him, had ripped his pride to shreds at a time when pride was all he’d had. What better payback than to commission her to design his future wife’s wedding ring? Regan stared at the ring in Cole’s hand and recalled the day he’d placed a thin gold band on her finger and promised to love her always. Always had only lasted ten days. Pain sliced through Regan, razor-sharp, at the memory. Deserving or not and no matter how badly she could use the sale and publicity, she refused to subject herself to that kind of misery. “As I said, I’m very busy. I’ll get my assistant to help you.”
“Like hell you will!” Quick as a snap he was off the table and in her face. “I’m not dealing with any assistant on something this important. I’m dealing with you, princess. And only you.”
Staggered by his sudden shift from cool control to white-hot fury, Regan took a step back. Emotions tumbled through her at breakneck speed, and she recalled the other two times she’d seen Cole in the grips of a temper like this—the day she’d told him she wanted an annulment and the day she’d told him she’d lost their baby. She drew in a calming breath. “I’d like you to leave.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “What’s the matter, princess? Changed your mind again? It’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?”
Regan frowned, confused as much by Cole’s remarks as by his hostility. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and, to tell you the truth, I don’t really care. I just want you to go.”
“Not a chance.”
Regan’s pulse danced uneasily at the steely determination in his voice. “Then you leave me no choice but to call the police and have you removed,”