The CEO's Baby Surprise. Helen Lacey
fob me off with some vague assurance that it won’t happen to you,” she said, cutting him off. “You work too hard. You don’t take time off. You’ve become as defined by Anderson Holdings as your grandfather was...and all it got him was an early grave. There’s more to life than business.”
He would have dismissed the criticism from anyone else...but not Solana. He loved and respected his grandmother, and her opinion was one of the few that mattered to him.
“I know that. But I’m not ready to—”
“It’s been over four years,” Solana reminded him gently. “And time you got back to the land of the living. Simone wouldn’t want you to—”
“Gran,” Daniel said, hanging on to his patience. “I know you’re trying to help. And I promise I’ll relax and unwind while I’m here. I’m back for a week so I’ll—”
“You’ll need more than a week to unwind,” she said, cutting him off again. “But if that’s all you can manage then so be it. And your parents are expecting you to visit, in case you were thinking you’d fly under the radar while you’re here.”
Guilt spiked between his shoulder blades. Solana had a way of doing that. And he hadn’t considered not seeing his father and stepmother. Not really. True, he had little in common with Miles and Bernadette...but they were his parents, and he knew they’d be genuinely pleased that he’d come home for a visit.
From a young age he’d known where his path lay. He was who his grandfather looked to as his protégé. At eighteen he’d been drafted into Anderson’s, studying economics at night school so he could learn the business firsthand from his grandfather. At twenty-three, following Mike Anderson’s death, he’d taken over the reins and since then he’d lived and breathed Anderson’s. Blake and Caleb had followed him a few years later, while Daniel remained at the helm.
He worked and had little time for anything resembling a personal life. Simone had understood that. She was a corporate lawyer and worked seventy-hour weeks. Marrying her had made sense. They were a good match...alike in many ways, and they’d been happy together. And would still be together if fate and a faulty brake line hadn’t intervened. She’d still be a lawyer and he would still spend his waking hours living and breathing Anderson Holdings. And they would be parents to their daughter. Just as they’d planned.
Daniel stretched his shoulders and stifled a yawn. He was tired. Jet-lagged. But if he crashed in the afternoon he’d feel worse. The trick to staying on top of the jet lag was keeping normal sleep patterns. Besides, there were two things he wanted to do—take a shower, and see Mary-Jayne Preston.
* * *
Mary-Jayne knew that the knock on her door would be Daniel. She’d been waiting for the sound for the past hour. But the sharp rap still startled her and she jumped up from the sofa, where she’d been sitting, hands twisted and stomach churning.
She walked across the living room and down the short hallway, grappling with the emotions running riot throughout her. She ruffled out her baggy shirt and hoped it disguised her belly enough to give her some time to work out how she was going to tell the man at her door he was going to become a father. She took a deep breath, steadied her knees, grabbed the handle and opened the door.
His gray eyes immediately looked her over with unconcealed interest. “How are you feeling?”
His lovely accent wound up her spine. “Fine.”
“My grandmother is worried about you.”
“I’m fine, like I said.”
He tilted his head slightly. “You sure about that?”
Her chin came up. “Positive. Not that I have to explain myself to you.”
“No,” he mused. “I guess you don’t.”
“Is there something else you wanted?”
A tiny smile creased one corner of his mouth. “Can I come in?”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” she said, and stepped back, shielding herself behind the door. “But since you own this resort I guess you can do whatever the hell you want.”
There was laughter in his eyes, and she realized the more hostile she got, the more amused he appeared. Mary-Jayne took a deep breath and turned on her heels, quickly finding solace behind the single recliner chair just a few feet away. She watched as he closed the door and took a few easy strides into the room.
“I hear you’ve been taking my grandmother to see fortune-tellers?”
Solana had told him about that? The older woman had sworn her to secrecy, saying her grandsons would think her crazy for visiting a clairvoyant. “It was one fortune-teller,” she informed him. “And a reputable one, I might add.”
His brows came up. “Really? You believe in all that nonsense?”
She glared at him. “Well, she did say I’d meet a man who was a real jerk...so I’d say she was pretty accurate, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Is that a question?” he shot back. “Because I’m probably not the best judge of my own character. Other people’s characters, on the other hand, I can usually peg.”
“Don’t start with—”
“Why did you hang up on me when I called you?”
She was genuinely surprised by his question. And didn’t respond.
“You were in South Dakota at your friend’s wedding,” he reminded her. “I was in San Francisco. I would have flown you to the city.”
Into the city. And into his bed. Mary-Jayne knew the score. She might have been a fool the night of Solana’s birthday party, but she certainly wasn’t about to repeat that monumental mistake.
“I wasn’t in the market for another meaningless one-night stand.”
His mouth twitched. “Really? More to the point, I guess your boyfriend wouldn’t have approved?”
She frowned. “My what?”
“My grandmother can be indiscreet,” he said and looked her over. “Unintentionally of course, since she has no idea we had that meaningless one-night stand.”
Color rose and spotted her cheeks. And for several long seconds she felt a kind of riveting connection to him. It was illogical. It was relentless. It made it impossible to ignore him. Or forget the night they’d spent together. Or the way they’d made love. The silence stretched between them, and Mary-Jayne was drawn deep into his smoky gray eyes.
“I don’t have a boyfriend or lover,” she said quietly. “I made that up to stop Solana from asking questions about...” Her words trailed off and she moved back, putting distance between them.
“About what?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I really can’t... I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” he asked.
“I can’t do this with you.”
“We’re not doing anything,” he said. “Just talking.”
“That’s just it,” she said, her voice coming out a little strangled. “I’m not ready for this. Not here. Not today. I feel unwell and I—”
“I thought you said you were feeling better?” he asked, cutting her off.
“Well, I’m not, okay? I’m not better. And seeing you here only makes me feel worse.”
“Such brutal honesty. I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”
She let out an agonized moan. “That’s just it. I am honest. Always. And seeing you now makes it impossible for me to be anything else. And I’m not ready for it... I can’t do this today. I simply can’t—”