Australia: In Bed with the Boss. Emma Darcy
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“Congratulations!” She arched her eyebrows higher. “I take it the mother is happy with this more or less arrangement?”
“Uh-oh!” He wagged a finger at her, his sparkling amusement scraping her nerves raw. “Your bad opinion of me is showing, Amy. And it’s absolutely undeserved.”
Like hell it was! She hastily constructed a deadpan look to frustrate him. “I do apologise. Your personal affairs are, of course, none of my business.”
“Joshua’s mother trusts me implicitly,” he declared loftily.
“How nice!”
“She knows I can be counted upon in an emergency.”
“Yes. You always do rise to an occasion.”
He laughed at the dry irony in her voice. “I see you’ve recovered. But I did have you lost for a word earlier on,” he said triumphantly.
“Would you like me to be speechless more often?”
“What fun would the game be then?” Sheer devilment in his eyes.
Amy deliberately remained silent.
He heaved a sigh. “Determined to frustrate me.” He shook his head at her. “Challenge is the spice of life to me, Amy.”
She ignored the comment, giving him nothing to feed off.
“Okay,” he conceded. “Joshua’s mum is my sister, Ruth. Everything fell in on her this morning. My brother-in-law dislocated his shoulder, playing squash. She had to take him to hospital. I was elected as emergency baby-sitter so I got landed with my nephew for the duration. Ruth will come by here to pick him up when she can.”
Light dawned. “You’re the baby’s uncle.”
“And his godfather.” The teasing grin came back. “You see before you a staunch family man.”
From the safe distance of being once removed, Amy thought cynically.
“I’ll just pop him down here.” He lifted the capsule off her desk and placed it on the floor beside the filing cabinets. “Great little sleeper. Went off in the car and hasn’t budged since.”
He was leaving the baby with her!
Amy stared at the tiny bundle of humanity—the result of intimacy between a man and a woman—a bond of life that went on and on, no matter what the parents chose to do—a link that couldn’t be broken—a baby.
Her whole body clenched against the anguish flooding through her. For this Steve had left her. For this Steve was marrying another woman. Their years together meant nothing…compared to this. He’d covered up his infidelity. Amy hadn’t even suspected it. It was the baby who had ended their five-year-long relationship…the baby the man-trap blonde was having…part of Steve he couldn’t let go.
And Amy couldn’t blame him for that, however deeply it pained her.
A baby deserved to have its father.
But the betrayal of all they’d shared together hurt so much, so terribly much…
“This today’s mail?”
She hadn’t been aware of Jake backtracking to her desk. The question swung her head towards him. He’d picked up the sheets from the printer. “Yes,” she answered numbly.
“I’ll take it into my office.” He made a beeline for the connecting door, waving at the capsule as he went. “There’s a bottle of formula and a couple of disposable nappies in that bag at Joshua’s feet. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
So arrogantly casual, dumping his responsibility for the baby onto her!
Resentment started to burn again.
He opened the door and paused, looking back, oh so sleekly elegant in his grey silk suit, unruffled, uncreased, supremely self-assured, the tantalising little smile quirking his mouth.
“By the way, you look utterly stunning in red, Amy. You should wear it more often.”
He winked flirtatiously at her and was gone, the door closing smoothly behind him.
Amy saw red.
Her mind was a haze of red.
Her heart pumped red-hot blood through her veins.
Her brain sizzled. All of her sizzled.
Since Jake Carter enjoyed cracking her composure, he could damned well enjoy a monumental crack! She was not going to look after someone else’s baby…a baby who had no connection to her whatsoever. It wasn’t her job. And today of all days, she didn’t need a vivid reminder of what she had lost and why. Let Jake Carter look after his own…the staunch family man! The Godfather!
She looked down at the baby, still peacefully asleep, oblivious to the turbulent emotions it stirred in Amy. She looked at the plastic bag at the foot of the capsule. It was printed with fun Disney characters. Today, Jake Carter could have fun with his nephew. The game with her was over and she didn’t care if he fired her for it. In fact, if he dared to try any pressure on her over minding his nephew she’d get in first and dump him.
It would probably be a new experience for him, getting dumped by a woman. And he wouldn’t be expecting it, either. There hadn’t been any exit signs for him to spot.
A savage little smile curled her lips.
She was about to give Jake Carter a red letter day.
And serve him right, too!
AMY barged into her boss’s office, wishing the capsule swinging in her hand was a cudgel to beat him with. It infuriated her further to find him leaning back in his executive chair, feet up on his executive desk, hands cupping the back of his head, gazing smugly at the panoramic harbour view through his executive windows.
No work was being done. The mail she had printed out for him had been tossed on the in-tray. He looked as if he was revelling in recalling the pleasures he had undoubtedly indulged in over the weekend. While she had been dealt one killing blow after another.
It wasn’t fair!
Nothing was fair!
But by God! She’d make this man honour his commitment!
Her unheralded entrance drew a bland look of inquiry. “Some problem?”
Welcome to hell on wheels! she thought, marching straight up to his desk and heaving the capsule onto it. She did refrain from knocking his feet off. She didn’t want to wake the baby. It wasn’t the infant’s fault that his uncle was a male chauvinist pig.
With her hands free, she planted them on her hips and took her stance. Apparently fascinated by the vision of his normally cool personal assistant on the warpath, Jake stayed locked where he was, which suited Amy just fine. She opened fire at point-blank range.
“This baby…is your responsibility.”
Her voice shook, giving it a huskiness that robbed it of the authority needed. She hastily worked some moisture into her mouth and resumed speaking with more strength.
“Your sister elected you to be her son’s baby-sitter.”
She stretched her mouth into a smile designed to turn Medusa to stone. It must have worked because he still didn’t move. Or speak.
“She trusts you implicitly,” Amy said sweetly. “As she should since you’re his godfather. And a staunch family man.”
It gave her a fierce pleasure to throw that claim back in his face, an