His Secretary's Little Secret. Catherine Mann
Just be sure to put your feet up and try to relax.”
Portia’s vigorous nod sent loose tendrils of her hair out of her ponytail and into her face. Before she could respond to Valez, Easton strode toward them, concern wearing lines in his ruggedly handsome face.
“Everything okay?”
Heart palpitating, palms sweating, she urged her tongue to find words. “Fine, I’m just fine.”
He glanced at the EMT. “Is that true? She’s a tough cookie who doesn’t complain.”
Valez nodded, holding his medical kit. “We’ve checked her over and everything appears fine. She knows what signs to look for.”
“Signs to look for?” Easton’s brow furrowed, looking confused.
Damn.
Panic pulsed in her throat. This could not be how he found out.
The two technicians exchanged glances. Valez cleared his throat. “Yes, symptoms to look for after a car accident.”
“Symptoms?”
She tried to interrupt, panicked over what the tech might give away, but he nodded at her reassuringly.
“Whiplash, for example. If your neck feels stiff in the morning. Or aches from the seatbelt or from the impact if your airbag went off.”
She inched away. “No airbag. Our vehicle was barely tapped, but I appreciate all the other information you provided. Truly.” She spun to Easton. “We should clear out so they can check out any others who need help.”
“Okay,” Easton answered, giving a final wave to the EMT. “Thank you for taking the time to be so thorough. I appreciate it.”
“Just doing our job.” The tech nodded to her. “Take it easy, ma’am.”
Easton turned back to her, gesturing to the slightly damaged car. A deep sigh escaped his lips, though when he turned to face Portia, a smile manifested. An easygoing smile. One she wanted to give in to. She wanted to lean on him, to rely on him, but she knew that was a recipe for disaster. She had to do this on her own. The sensible thing? Cut her losses on today—on the idea of them.
He touched the top of her arm with gentle fingertips. “This is not the way I envisioned our date going, but I’m glad no one was injured. You must be starving. I know I am. Would you like indoor or outdoor dining?”
The accident shook her ability to remain calm. Though her vitals checked out, she worried about the baby. And that worry made her realize the futility of pursuing anything personal or romantic with Easton. She would always be connected to him, but she couldn’t come to rely on him.
“Honestly, I would like to pick up to-go food and head home.”
“I know it’s a long day driving the whole way down the Keys. Would you rather we get a hotel?” he asked, rushing to add, “Separate rooms of course, if that’s what you want.”
“I want to go home.”
Portia felt downright foolish. She needed space—a place to think. Somewhere away from Easton.
He studied her eyes for a long moment, then shrugged, “Sure, your day. Your date. But it’s going to be damn good carryout.”
* * *
Thoughts of the accident still shook Easton. Though small, the fender bender replayed in his mind.
Portia’s scrunched brow visibly displayed her stress. Her demeanor shifted after talking to the EMT. Easton had the sinking feeling that she wasn’t as fine as she let on. Or maybe the accident had spooked her as it had spooked him. She’d been initially hesitant to accept his offer of the date. Maybe she’d interpreted the accident as a sign that they had to turn back.
He fished his soda out of the cup holder and sipped on the cola. She was safe. They were both safe. The car had received some damage, but that didn’t matter. Not really.
Portia, currently chowing down on carryout, appeared pale, but her color was returning by the bite. She’d chosen a hogfish sandwich, which he hadn’t expected at all, even though the delicate fish had a scallop flavor he personally enjoyed. But he’d thought she would order something grilled on top of a salad, the kind of thing she’d pick up locally when she grabbed them takeout for lunch if she needed to go into town on a workday. Yet, this time she’d chosen heartier fare and downed the sandwich like a starved woman. Even alternating each bite with a conch fritter.
This glimpse of her zest for life, her savoring of the senses, made him hungry for a taste of her. He’d wanted to stop for a roadside picnic, but she’d shot down the suggestion, noting the gathering storm clouds. He had to concur. They needed to start for home.
Traffic in the northbound lane moved moderately fast, but allowed Easton to take in the scenery. Sometimes, he felt like he lived at the refuge. Not a big complaint—he loved his work, knew caring for the animals transcended a job and landed squarely in the realm of a vocation. But he often forgot what a normal day looked like.
Then again, his unconventional childhood had never really allowed for normalcy either.
Regardless, the drive reminded him of just how damn lucky he was to live in the tropical Florida Keys. People on bikes lined sidewalks. Palm trees bowed in the summer wind. Easton could make out the turquoise of the sea catching radiantly in the sunlight, the shoreline dotted with shacks that were homes and shops, colorful and scenic. The natural panoramic view was gorgeous.
But not nearly as gorgeous as the woman next to him.
Portia continued to surprise him. Intrigue him. He had a few hours until they’d be back at the refuge. Maybe he could restart their quiz game. Figure out more about her. Easton wanted to tease answers from her lips. Understand more. He could ask her about her family. He knew nothing about them. In fact, Easton didn’t really know much concerning her life before she came to work for him.
He could ask her if she’d ever been close to marriage. Did she want a family of her own? What was the worst kiss she’d ever had? That could at least break the ice and make them laugh. Or he could ask why she’d been avoiding him over the last few weeks when they worked together every day, for crying out loud.
With a renewed commitment to demystifying Portia Soto, he turned his head, ready to begin the questions again.
But as he opened his mouth, he knew he couldn’t continue.
Her head rested against the window, her eyes were closed and she was fast asleep. He picked up her empty food container, tossed it into the carryout bag, and decided to take comfort in the fact that she felt at ease enough to nap around him. He reached for the radio to turn on a news channel just as his phone rang, the Bluetooth kicking in automatically.
He reached to pick up fast before the tone woke her. But she only twitched once before settling back into even-paced breathing.
He spared a quick glance to the caller ID. His brother, Xander, was on the line. Easton tapped the monitor and his brother’s voice filled the air.
“Hey, dude, check this out.” Background noise echoed as he said, “Rose, baby girl, come back to Daddy and talk on the phone. Tell Uncle Easton what you just told Daddy.”
Easton’s mouth twitched. His brother was such a devoted father, and it was funny as hell watching his starched-suit, executive brother wrapped around that tiny little finger.
Easton’s toddler niece babbled for a few indistinguishable sentences before she said, “Birdies, birdies.”
“That’s great, Rosebud.” Yeah, Easton had to admit his niece was mighty damn cute. “Give the phone back to your daddy now. Love you, kiddo.”
“Hey, brother,” Xander’s voice came back over. “That’s awesome, isn’t it? We have the next generation of veterinarians in our family.”
“Could be, could be.” His eyes flicked