The Boss's Special Delivery. Raye Morgan
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their arms?” she asked as impudently as she could manage. “No, as a matter of fact, you’re my first.”
He gave her an assessing look. “You’re pregnant.”
He said it calmly, but to her it sounded like an accusation, and she bristled. As an unwed mother-to-be, she bristled a lot lately.
“Really?” she responded quickly, straightening her shoulders as though she had to get ready for battle. “What was your first clue?”
He looked up and really met her dark gaze for the first time, really seemed to look into her eyes and see who she was. She had to stifle a shiver. She didn’t think she’d ever seen bluer eyes.
But there was more. Something about him made her feel uncertain and a little self-conscious. He had the look of a man who did and said whatever occurred to him, without much worrying about what was appropriate to the occasion. If he saw something about her he liked…or didn’t like…he was likely to be quite frank about it. And he proved she’d read him right with his next statement.
“You’re also a smart aleck,” he said dryly.
Still defensive, Annie stared right back at him. She had to make sure men like this knew she couldn’t be intimidated. She’d had a lot of experience at this sort of thing lately. Learning how to protect herself by being a bit caustic hadn’t come naturally, but she was learning.
“If I want character analysis, I’ll go see a psychologist.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. She wasn’t sure if it was with humor or a quick irritation. Either way was okay with her—just so long as he realized she wasn’t going to put up with any baloney from him—or any other man.
“Why pay for that when I’m prepared to analyze for free?” he said. Putting his head to the side, he pretended to study her. “Let’s see if I’ve got a proper fix on you. You’re headstrong, stubborn, sure you’re usually right…and a hard worker.”
His casual assumptions—as well as his cynical tone—were really annoying her, and she said the first thing that came to mind.
“So’s your old man,” she shot back.
His sudden grin was a stunner, white teeth flashing, eyes crinkling, and real humor lit up his face. “I didn’t know you knew him.”
Okay, there it was—the main thing she had to watch out for. Everything in her wanted to like him. He looked…well, nice. And that was even more dangerous than his undeniable sex appeal—the macho way he took charge so naturally; the breathtaking chest muscles that seemed to swell under his light polo shirt; the way he was poised, down on one knee before her, like a knight asking a lady for her scarf to wear into battle.
She blinked quickly and shook her head, furious at herself for letting her imagination run wild on that last one. What was she doing, sinking back into childhood? She’d spent a good part of her youth blocking out reality by creating a dream world in which she was a lost princess. She couldn’t go back to that. Too much fantasy could corrupt her reasoning powers and that would be a gateway straight to the danger zone. She was a grown woman with a baby on the way and she couldn’t indulge herself like this anymore. Life was tough—she had to be hard to survive it.
Still, that was difficult to do when the man she faced was so incredibly good-looking and dressed so well. Besides the blue polo shirt, he wore clean fashionable denim slacks that fit like a glove and a soft suede jacket that clung to him in all the right places. What a contrast to her slightly silly green waitress uniform. And also, what a clear picture of their different stations in life. He looked like he shopped at Neiman-Marcus. She looked like she hadn’t shopped in years. Hardly princess material.
She looked away quickly, aware more than ever that they were alone. This was not a place she wanted to be. Besides, it was time she got back to work. Millie was shorthanded today and Annie didn’t want to risk bad feelings at this job. She needed it badly, and there weren’t many who would hire a woman almost seven months pregnant.
“May I go now?” she said, needing to ask as he was blocking her way.
He gazed at her levelly. “No, you may not. You’re still pale and I don’t like your pulse rate.”
She flashed a quick glare his way. “There are things I don’t like about you, but I’ve got the manners not to list them.”
He made a comical face. “Impossible.”
She frowned a little nervously. “What’s impossible?”
“That there’s something about me not to like.” He was grinning again. She really wished he wouldn’t. “I’m a terrific guy. Everyone says so.”
Great. That was all she needed. Not only was he incredibly handsome and a great dresser, he was popular, too. At least, if you asked him. Reaching up, she pushed her thick dark wavy hair back behind her ear.
“That’s what happens when you depend on selective polling,” she said coolly. Even if she looked like a waitress, she could act as snooty as any Dallas cattle heiress if she tried hard enough. “All the votes aren’t in yet, mister.”
One sleek dark eyebrow rose with just a touch of surprise. “Doctor,” he corrected smoothly.
She blinked. “Doctor who?”
“No, that was the TV show. Just plain old Dr. Allman. Or better yet, Matt Allman.”
She shook her head. Now he was being plain old annoying and he had to know it was bugging her. Was he doing it to put her down? Somehow she didn’t really think so. It seemed more like teasing, like he thought he was being playful. Like he was attracted to her and—
No. Now that was going too far. Why would a man like this be attracted to a woman in ugly green who was carrying someone else’s baby? That was just her fantasy side coming out again. She was going to have to learn to turn that little talent off.
“I should have known you were an Allman. I guess that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
She flushed, not sure what to say. The Allmans had been one of the founding families of the town, but their reputation hadn’t been good when she’d been here in the past. She always had the idea the Allmans were “this close” to being outlaws. Of course, that might have been pure gossip at the time, but something about the family always seemed to signal danger of one sort or another.
“That explains why you look as much like a rebel without a cause as you do a doctor,” she said a bit lamely, knowing he was waiting for an answer.
“A rebel.” He savored the word, eyes narrowing as though he saw himself from a distance. “I kind of like that.”
“Of course you do. You’re an Allman.”
He thought for a moment, his penetrating gaze clearly taking stock of her. She stared right back at him, not giving an inch. But inside, she quivered, wondering what he saw. A mouthy waitress who ought to be more grateful for what he’d done to tend to her? A pain in the neck? A pitiful ragamuffin, her dark hair a tangled mess?
None of those things were good and she wished, suddenly, that she knew a way to act that wouldn’t put her at odds with him. Sometimes it seemed she only had two speeds, mad attraction or complete hostility. And since she’d vowed she would never let herself get fooled by an attraction again, the tough-girl pose was just about all she had left.
But maybe that was okay. It gave her armor against falling for the sort of charm that had left her pregnant and alone. It helped let a man like this doctor know his handsome face and hunky physique weren’t going to bowl her over any time soon. If she had to be hard and caustic to make that plain, so be it. Better he know right up front. Better they all know. And better that she keep in mind the consequences of letting silly romantic notions creep into her thinking.
“So I’m an Allman,” he was saying, looking quizzical. “What exactly does that mean to