His Secretary's Little Secret. Catherine Mann
Not at all what she would do. When she told him, it’d be in a calm setting. One of her choosing. Not in the company of a wild, injured animal. Or a wildly sexy, injured man. “This isn’t the time.”
“Why not? Is it that serious? If so, speak up now,” he said firmly, turning to face her. Those blue eyes demanding something of her.
“Let’s take care of business first.” Her lips thinned into a line. Pushing him away. Her mother had depended on a man for everything and then had nothing when that man died bankrupt in prison. Portia had vowed she wouldn’t let herself commit to anyone until she was certain she could stand on her two feet, debt free and independent. She wouldn’t let herself think about how much harder that would be as a single mother.
His eyes narrowed and she could practically see him running through a catalog of possible topics.
“It’s personal?” he asked.
“That’s not what I said.”
“About the night of the tropical storm six weeks ago—” A hungry smile pushed along his mouth.
Damn him for being so intuitive. He had a knack for that. All the more reason for her to be carefully guarded around him.
“Let’s not speak about that now.”
“You haven’t wanted to speak of it since the storm. When are we ever going to talk about it? You’re a determined woman, that’s for certain.”
She knew she couldn’t delay the conversation forever, but right now her stomach was still in turmoil over his fall. And she wanted to go to her first doctor’s appointment to confirm that the pregnancy was on track before turning her whole world upside down.
And yes, she was trying to think of any reason she could to delay, because once she told Easton about his baby, she would lose control of her life forever.
* * *
Dr. Easton Lourdes leaned his seat halfway back, his head still spinning. Partly from the fall, but mostly from the woman beside him and the memory of those moments he’d kept his eyes closed and just absorbed the feel of her against him. Since she’d come to work with him two years ago, he’d suspected there were fires burning behind her uptight demeanor. But hell, he’d had no idea how hot they’d blaze until that one night with her during the storm.
Portia Soto. The most organized secretary on the planet. The woman who—until recently—had kept his eccentric spirit in line. Until their night of passion during a tropical storm showed him just how wild she could be once she let down that tightly upswept hair.
But the next day, she’d gathered her long caramel-brown hair back as fiercely as ever. Tighter even.
He needed his secretary. The Lourdes Family Wildlife Refuge was fast becoming an internationally renowned animal research and rescue center, and he was the man in charge of the science. To make the impact he wanted to make on the world, he needed his secretary. But he wanted Portia. And he wasn’t sure how to have both.
If only he understood humans as well as he did animals. His childhood spent with rich, globe-trotting parents had exposed him to creatures around the world. He’d paid attention and taken in an understanding of animals’ unspoken language. But even though he’d had the best of everything money could buy, he’d lacked much in the way of learning how to make connections with people other than his parents and his older brother. No sooner than he’d make a friend, his family would pack up and jet off to another exotic locale.
Easton cracked his neck, a crescendo of echoing pops responded in his back, the tension finally unwinding. With his neck less contracted, he positioned himself so he could watch her. Portia’s gel manicured nails were still quite perfect as she gripped the pickup truck’s steering wheel at a “nine and three” position that would make any driver’s ed teacher proud. Her doe-brown eyes were focused, attentive to the road.
Intentional. That was how he’d describe Portia. Intentional and proper.
With all her wildness contained.
Despite her manicured look, she fit in well at the wildlife preserve his family owned and funded. Easton brought his world-renowned skills as a veterinarian/scientist specializing in exotic animals. His brother, Xander, ran the family business and fund-raising.
And there sure as hell was a lot of fund-raising and political maneuvering involved in saving animals. Portia’s calm organizational skills were an immeasurable asset on that front too, according to his brother, Xander. Easton only had to show up in a tux every few months and talk about the research he loved.
For the most part, he spent his time handling the hands-on rescue and research efforts, and Portia’s efficiency helped him make that happen. He was lucky his family’s wealth meant he could leave the fund-raising to his brother and get his hands dirty doing what he enjoyed most.
And he tried his damnedest to entice Portia to play in the dirt with him.
Easton’s eyes slid from her face to the soft, yellow lights on the road back to the clinic. The preserve stretched for a few acres on Key Largo, a small island in the archipelago south of Florida. A necessary answer to urbanization and tourist development, Easton believed, as did his new board of directors, apparently.
He was damn lucky. He lived his dream every day. Sure, some people were able to turn passion into a paycheck, but Easton was a veterinarian at his preserve solely for passion. He recognized that he’d been blessed by his family’s money. It had enabled him to follow his vocation without worrying about compensation. He didn’t advertise his lack of salary because, for Easton, it didn’t matter. He felt honored to work for the sole purpose of helping the animals. To do some good in this world. Money had never been a big concern for him personally, but the reality of a small refuge accountable to a board of directors meant he had to worry about things like that on occasion.
As a secretary, Portia was brilliant—organized, dedicated—exactly what a free-spirited guy like him needed. But he also wanted her, as a man, and that made working with Portia increasingly challenging.
Since he’d hired her, he’d noticed her—and then he’d immediately move his attention back to business. But now, he caught himself distracted by the pinkness of her lips, the way she straightened her ponytail when she was thinking. Over and over, he’d replayed that night in his head. In a perfect world, he could have both. His kick-ass secretary and his sexy lover, too. But Portia had made it damn clear he wasn’t welcome in her bed again. She’d sent him a brief morning-after text and then ignored his messages unless they were work related.
His heart pounded as he thought of the last—and only—time they’d been together. The memory ramped him up—before he deliberately pushed it aside.
Regaining focus on the present, he surveyed her tight smile. Portia hadn’t said much in the past few minutes, but as if she needed to fill the space with words, she sliced through his thoughts. “So do you think the bird broke a wing?”
He blinked, troubled at the formality of her tone. “Perhaps. I’ll have to x-ray it to be certain.”
“Good. I’m glad we were able to help him.” Matter-of-fact as ever. All business. No hint, no trace of anything more.
She pulled the truck into the driveway of the clinic, parking it. As she turned to face him, he saw concern pass through her eyes. Had she been that worried about his fall?
His fingers ached to touch her bare skin, to explore her gentle curves. Although her breasts were more generous than he remembered. What else had he remembered wrong from their dimly lit, rushed lovemaking? The space between them dwindled, electricity sparking in the air there.
Her eyes danced, and he saw that spark take hold in her, too. The same spark from the night of the storm.
He wanted to nurture that spark into a flame.
He kissed her. God, he kissed her. Tried to rein himself in so he could savor the moment rather than risking another fast and furious encounter. He didn’t want to