Boardroom Kings: Bossman's Baby Scandal. Catherine Mann
Lauren just an arm’s reach away. He’d barely had time to process the idea of being a father, much less see the proof so visibly. His hands itched to touch Lauren, to explore the differences in her.
To feel the baby kick?
His throat went tight. “It could be a boy, who’ll one day need an engagement ring to give some girl.”
She tipped her head to the side, her silky hair gliding over the rounded curves of her breasts. “Do you want a boy? Seems that most men prefer to have a son first.”
“Is that how things were with your dad?” His own father sure as hell had wanted a mini-version of himself, someone to mirror his every move, decision, thought.
Her face closed up. “This isn’t about my father.”
“Okay, then.” He gave in to temptation and stroked back a lock of her hair, sliding his hand away before she could protest. “You look beautiful but tired, and I seem to recall you saying something about needing to go to work.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead, resisting the urge to linger and, instead, making a beeline for the door. “Goodbye, Lauren. We’ll talk later.”
He stepped into the hall, her confused face stamped on his memory, fueling him in his decision to retreat for the moment, keep her off balance. She had doubts and he could play on those.
She may have said no this morning, but he wasn’t down for the count. Without question, by the time he took the last flight out on Sunday night, Lauren would be coming to California with his child.
Lauren pushed through the glass door leading into the fourth-floor offices that housed her graphic-design business. Not much space, actually, just a common room with tables, a receptionist desk by the door and her own office in back. Where she and Jason had made this baby.
At the moment she couldn’t blame the pregnancy for her churning stomach. Her insides swirled around like a Jackson Pollock color extravaganza.
The small velvet ring box seemed to weigh ten tons in her purse—a sack of a bag made from an old sweater she’d found at a consignment store. She’d packed up the jewelry so she could call Jason, schedule a lunch and return the ring. An engagement was a ludicrous idea.
She had enough on her plate, anyhow, finding a way to save her business from bankruptcy.
Franco, her secretary, passed her a stack of memo sheets. “Ms. Presley, your messages.”
“Thanks, Franco.” She forced herself to smile.
Lauren shuffled through the inch-thick pile; calls from prospective clients were mixed in with phone numbers from creditors.
Franco stood, smoothing down his NY Giants tie. “Before you go into your office—”
“Yes,” she answered, opening her door at the same time. The floral scent wafted out.
Franco shrugged and leaned back. “They were delivered just before you arrived. And, uh… ”
His voice dwindled off in her mind as she turned to find her office packed with at least five vases of white rosebuds with pink and blue ribbons. On the corner of her desk, she saw a carafe of juice and basket of muffins. She spun back to hear what else Franco was saying.
Movement drew her attention to the far recesses of the reception area, where Jason lounged, assessing her with sexy, hooded eyes. How had she missed him when she came in? And why hadn’t Franco told… ? Okay, so Franco had tried.
Lauren nodded Jason into her office. “Come on. You might as well eat with me.”
He shoved away from the wall, slowly, lean and lanky, like a predator cougar as he strode toward her. Franco, the new accountant and the two interns from NYU looked from Jason to her with undisguised curiosity.
Jason slid his arm around her waist. “I wanted to make sure the mother of my child is well fed and happy.”
She stiffened under his touch. Damn his presumptuous ass. Just that fast he’d announced their relationship to the world. Well, not the world, but to her employees and three waiting clients.
“The baby and I are fine, thank you.” She planted a hand in the middle of his back and pushed. “Can I speak with you in my office, please?”
“Of course, dear,” he said with smooth affection and a charming smile that had the two interns giggling and blushing.
She closed her office door, sealing her in the room with Jason. Alone. With the turquoise sofa. With a host of memories.
Lauren opened the white metal blinds and let the sun blast through. Not that it did much to defuse her anger. “What the hell was that all about?”
“Only letting people know I care about you and our child.” He picked up a fat blueberry muffin. “Breakfast?”
“I’ve already eaten. Don’t you think you should have checked to see if I’d told the folks at work about the baby?”
He paused. “You’ve told them. You’ve been on sick leave.”
“Fine, you’re right. But the clients in the waiting area didn’t know, and this is my announcement to make to the world when I’m darn well ready.”
“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” He waved the muffin closer, near enough for her to catch a whiff. “Now would you like something to eat? The bakery made them fresh this morning. I saw them come out of the oven.”
She wanted to tell the pushy man what he could do with his muffins. But damned if she wasn’t starving all over again as she looked at those plump blueberries straining at the sides, the sweet crumble topping making her lick her lips in anticipation. While she loved her baby, sometimes she really resented these hormones that seemed to have such Herculean control over her body.
That same hormonal storm was making her go all teary-eyed over the flowers and food because, God, this was what first-time parents did for each other. The past few months had been so damn hard without the support of a partner. She didn’t even want to think about how difficult the coming months—years—might be.
For now she just wanted to enjoy her muffin.
Her feet carried her closer, until she stood toe to toe with Jason. Sniffing back her tears, she could smell him and the flowers and the muffin, and, gracious, but all of it smelled mouthwateringly good. Jason pinched off a piece and brought it to her lips. She parted for him before she could think, pretty damn much the way she’d done on that sofa four months ago.
What was it about this man that made her act so out of character? She wasn’t wildly impulsive like her erratic mother. She had control over her emotions. Except for a most memorable lapse around Jason.
She took the bready bite and her senses exploded with pleasure over the sweet fruit melting on her tongue. Jason’s thumb traced along her bottom lip, stroking, stirring a whirlpool of want inside her until her breasts tightened in response beneath her brown wool sweaterdress. She arched up on her toes inside her burnt-orange pumps, a whisper away from his mouth—
A knock rattled her office door.
“What?” Her voice came out breathy and impatient. She didn’t move. Neither did Jason, the heat of his brown eyes sizzling through her.
The knocking continued, more insistent now. Lauren cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes?” she said, stepping back, not a hundred percent sure who that “yes” was for. “What do you need?”
Jason smiled, wicked and sexy as if to say exactly what he needed. Here. Now.
Lauren clasped the doorknob, willing her professional composure back into place. “What can I help you with?”
She found the grandmotherly accountant she’d hired to sort through the financial mess. The brisk woman waited, hand raised for another knock. Talk about a splash of ice-water reality to douse her passion! She needed to tend to this now, but didn’t need Jason to hear.
Lauren