Little Secrets--His Pregnant Secretary

by Joanne Rock

  “My dear, I’m eager to meet you.” His voice boomed the length of the room, and his blue eyes—that matched all the other men’s eyes in the room—turned to Delia.

  She swallowed hard, grateful for the reassuring pat on the elbow from Sofia.

  Stepping forward, she braced herself to meet her child’s great-grandfather.

  “Hello, sir.” Pasting a smile into place, she reminded herself she was good at this. In the same way that Cameron’s wife had a warm manner from being a concierge, Delia had honed her skills making people feel comfortable at McNeill Meadows. She could do this. “Thank you so much for inviting me tonight.”

  Malcom paused a few feet from her, steadying himself on the cane. She wondered if his strength was waning after the heart attack Cameron had mentioned.

  Jager might not have believed the story, but Delia did. She guessed the older man’s failing health had prompted him to act fast to unify his family.

  “I am delighted to know you, Delia.” Malcolm McNeill enveloped her hand in his larger one and kept hold of it. “You might have heard that I’m very committed to meeting all my grandsons and ensuring the McNeill legacy lives on through a strong family tree.”

  Family tree? Delia shifted her gaze to the floor, afraid her face would betray her secret.

  “Gramps.” Cameron exchanged a look with his wife and then edged forward to stand by Malcolm. “Maybe we should go in for dinner first.”

  “We haven’t even offered our newest members a drink yet, have we?” Malcolm glanced around the room. “Lydia, love, would you bring me mine so we can have a toast?” He let go of Delia’s hand to point at the half-empty glass by his abandoned club chair. “And for pity’s sake, let’s get Jager and Delia something.” He nodded toward Ian.

  Lydia hurried over to do her part, making no noise in her stilettos. How did some women manage that trick? She had a graceful walk that Delia envied. Delia felt more out of her element with each passing moment, and she most certainly would not have a cocktail to toast anything. Why hadn’t she thought of that before she asked to attend this gathering?

  “No need to wait on us.” Jager beat Ian in his move toward the bar, a freestanding antique that held a few bottles of high-end liquor and three cut crystal decanters. “I’ll get it.”

  Delia touched one of her snowflake earrings to calm herself. She had thought she wasn’t nervous when she walked into the room, but Malcolm McNeill’s reference to the “strong family tree” stirred anxiety. She felt certain Jager wouldn’t have shared their secret with his grandfather.

  But was there a chance he’d told one of his brothers? The way Cameron quickly cut off Malcolm’s line of conversation made her wonder. Everyone would know soon enough, of course. But she wanted to discuss how to broach the news with Jager before they revealed it to his family.

  “What would you like, my dear?” Malcolm asked her suddenly, fixing her with his clear blue gaze. “If Chivas isn’t to your taste, there’s a bottle of Tattingers we can open.”

  From the bar, Jager spoke up. “I know her preference. We’re all set.”

  She could see that he’d poured tonic water into a highball glass with an ice cube and a lime wedge. Perfect.

  Turning her attention back to Jager’s grandfather, she saw the older man’s gaze was fixed on Jager’s actions as well. And was it her nervous imagination, or had everyone else noticed his discreet pour?

  “You’re not drinking this evening.” Malcolm’s observation confirmed her suspicion. He’d seen, all right. “Good for you, my dear.” He patted her forearm and then accepted his glass from Lydia as she rejoined the group. “Very good, indeed.”

  Could he be any more obvious in his implications? Delia felt her cheeks heat and remembered Jager saying how easy it was to read her because of those blushes.

  “What did I miss?” Lydia asked, frowning as she peered around at the family.

  The men tried to look elsewhere. Sofia gave her sister-in-law a quick headshake as if to discourage a follow-up question.

  Jager returned to Delia’s side with two drinks, passing her the water before answering Lydia. “Only that Malcolm seemed pleased Delia isn’t much of a drinker.” He gave Delia’s cheek a kiss. “I think we’re as ready for that toast as we’ll ever be.”

  Her skin warmed from the brush of his lips. She knew that Jager would have rather skipped the whole formality of a toast that put them at the center of attention. No doubt he’d only redirected the conversation to forestall speculation that she could be pregnant. It was kind of him, and yet the damage had already been done. Malcolm had all but shouted it from the rooftops in his own subtle way.

  Unless, of course, Jager really had told his family that she was expecting without letting her know? That was hard to believe given the importance he’d placed on informing her about his grandfather’s marriage ultimatum. And yet, she already knew he viewed this baby very differently than he viewed marriage. The former meant the world to him.

  The latter? A formality. Different rules might apply in his mind.

  She found herself touching the snowflake earring again and forced her hand down to her side. Why should she allow his family to make her feel so uneasy? She might never see them again after tonight. Once the holidays were over, she’d be back on a plane to Martinique.

  Around her, the assembled guests retrieved their beverages. Malcolm shuffled backward a step so he could lean against the sofa and set aside his cane. He lifted his tumbler, the crystal glass acting as a prism and reflecting light from the overhead chandelier. Jager’s blue gaze landed on her with an unfathomable look. Did he regret bringing her here?

  * * *

  Jager tamped down the urge to tuck Delia under his arm and haul ass out of the mansion and the whole McNeill realm. Although Malcolm McNeill had seemed genuine enough in his words of welcome earlier, Jager didn’t appreciate the way the older man put Delia on the spot. What the hell had he been thinking?

  Clearly, she was upset. Jager had seen the splotches of color on her cheeks, noticed the way she fidgeted with her earring. He kicked himself for not insisting he meet the family privately first, but she’d surprised him with her emphatic decision to attend the dinner. Besides, his number one goal this week was to make her happy, to change her mind about marriage so they could start building a future together as a family.

  Damn. This was not helping.

  His grandfather’s hand—a surprisingly heavy weight—landed on his shoulder. “I’d like to propose a toast to every person in this room.” The older man’s voice rumbled with gravelly authority. “My grandsons and the women who stand beside them. I am proud to call you family.” His gaze scanned each face around the library. “Tonight, we celebrate a joyous occasion, welcoming even more McNeills into the fold.” He nodded at both Delia and Jager. “Cheers to you.”

  Jager watched Delia, hoping she wouldn’t be too upset the toast made it sound like they were already married. Perhaps the family patriarch was referring to Jager’s brothers when he mentioned welcoming more McNeills. But Jager could see her uneasiness grow even as she raised her glass along with everyone else during shouts of “Cheers!” and “Here, here.”

  Maybe he was the only one to notice the signs of her agitation. Her time dealing with the public at the McNeill Meadows property had given her easy social skills that hadn’t been so apparent when he’d first hired her as an assistant. But he’d known her before she’d developed the ability to put on a public face. He spied the way she waited until she glanced down to bite her lip, hiding the sign of nerves.

  The women in the group congregated around Delia; he hoped whatever they had to say distracted her from this debacle in a good way. Quinn moved to speak to Malcolm, shaking his hand and complimenting the toast.

  “I should have told you to bring an engagement ring with you to this thing,�
� Cameron muttered in Jager’s ear, his tone dry. “We’ve all been on the marriage fast track here.”

  “You warned me,” Jager admitted, feeling more trapped by the minute. And they hadn’t even sat down to dinner yet. “But I underestimated his commitment to his approach.”

  Cam sipped his drink, his gold wedding band glinting in the light, while he studied his grandfather. “I think when you reach his age, you say what you want and don’t give a rip.”

  “If he sends Delia running, I’m done with him.” Jager meant it. Seeing a tentative smile on Delia’s face while one of the women spoke to her made him grateful to the females in the group. “I’m only here because of her.”

  She was all that mattered to him.

  And, of course, their child.

  It occurred to him that he thought about them—Delia and their baby—in the reverse order of how he’d been used to weighing their importance in his life. Ever since their first impulsive night, when he knew there was a chance she could be pregnant, he’d put all his focus on making plans for an heir.

  But there was more to Delia than just her role in this pregnancy, and he wasn’t sure how to contend with his growing feelings for her. They were a distraction from the goal. An inconvenience that made him second-guess himself, and he couldn’t afford that when he was so ready to close the deal.

  Forever.

  He had that engagement ring Cam mentioned after all. He’d been working on a Christmas Eve proposal she’d never forget.

  Quinn moved away from Malcolm to speak to his wife, and Jager noticed Malcolm retrieve his cane. Jager strode over to intercept him, making sure his grandfather didn’t corner Delia to press his family agenda.

  “Thank you for the welcome.” Jager leaned against the back of the couch beside Malcolm, thinking to keep the two of them separate until the meal. Or to change the subject of conversation.

  But Delia was already moving toward them, her diplomatic smile firmly in place.

  “It was nice of you to include me,” Delia added as she came to face them both. “Even though I’m not family.”

  There was an edge to her words. No doubt, she’d been pushed to her limit tonight. Jager itched to take her hand. To kiss away her frustrations and make sure no stress touched her. No matter what the doctor said about her pregnancy not being high risk, it couldn’t be good for a woman to be upset like this while she was expecting.

  It should be a happy time for her.

  “Well, I hope my grandson will change that soon.” Malcom grinned broadly, unaware of the nervous energy practically thrumming through Delia. “I predict it won’t be long until we have another McNeill wedding.”

  Delia’s sharp intake of breath was audible. Jager put a placating hand at the base of her spine and felt for himself how tense she was. The room went silent. Jager drew a breath, prepared to make their excuses and depart.

  Delia beat him in responding.

  “We won’t be marrying.” She smiled sweetly, but her hazel eyes were filled with a steely determination he recognized.

  He’d seen it the day she jumped in the sea to save a drowning child.

  “My dear.” The furrow in Malcolm’s brow indicated that—finally—he understood he was out of line. Or that, at the very least, he’d upset his guest. “I only thought, since you are glowing at my grandson’s side and you didn’t imbibe tonight—”

  “You were mistaken,” she fired back, standing tall and proud and ready to do battle. “I may be expecting. But we have no plans to wed just for the sake of our child.”

  If Jager’s future didn’t hang in the balance of those words, he might have taken some pleasure from seeing this woman, once prone to being insecure, take on the intimidating Malcolm McNeill.

  Instead, he felt a kick to the teeth. It reverberated squarely in his chest and every part of him. In spite of his every effort, he’d now be living out his father’s legacy of bringing a child into the world without benefit of marrying the mother. That worried him.

  But unexpectedly, the pain ran deeper, beyond losing out on a chance at a real family, one with Delia and their child. He was completely leveled by the fact that he’d lost his chance to win over Delia.

  The only woman he’d ever loved.

  Thirteen

  Delia wondered if she would blame this moment on pregnancy hormones later.

  It was unlike her to gainsay anyone, especially her host on an important night for Jager. But what made Malcolm McNeill think he could maneuver his family like chess pieces, especially after all these years? Is that what family was about?

  In the heavy silence that followed her declaration, she became aware of Jager beside her. His face was a frozen mask she did not recognize. No doubt she had embarrassed him, and she regretted that. Deeply. But he could not have been surprised, as she’d already confided her deep need to marry for love. He, of all people, must understand that. He’d been there for her when she’d been falling apart from Brandon’s betrayal. Jager had met her father and seen how that need for authentic emotions went back to her childhood.

  Delia became aware of the deep, resonant ticking of the vintage grandfather clock while everyone around her seemed to grapple with what to say next. She understood the feeling, since Malcolm McNeill had put her in that precise awkward position from the moment he’d acknowledged her presence.

  “I see that I’ve upset you, my dear.” Malcolm found his cane with one fumbling hand and set down his drink with the other. “And I’m so sorry for that. You should understand I am accustomed to being far too abrupt with my grandsons about my hopes for the future, a flaw they have overlooked because of my age and my health. But that should not excuse poor manners.”

  When he reached Delia’s side, he squeezed her forearm. There was sorrow in his eyes, and she felt contrite. For all she knew, he could still be manipulating her emotions, but she wished she hadn’t spoken out.

  “Perhaps we should leave,” Jager interjected with a terseness that alerted her to how much this had upset him too.

  Exhaustion hit her in a wave, making her acutely aware of the stress, the lateness of the hour and a sudden hunger. Her pregnancy hormones may have been late making themselves known, but these last two days had rocked her on a physical level. She felt a bit faint, her vision narrowing to two pinpricks of light.

  “I may need to sit,” Delia told him, done with caring about how well-liked she was among the McNeills. She’d been foolish to try to be a part of Jager’s world. As much as she longed for family, she was not cut out for this.

  As one, the McNeills moved to clear a path to the sofa. Jager offered her his arm and steadied her, guiding her toward the couch near the bar.

  Ian’s wife was suddenly beside her, holding her hand. “Have you eaten? Would that help?”

  Delia nodded and someone, Maresa maybe, said, “I’ll get it,” and left the room. Delia let the soft hubbub of voices wash over her as her vision slowly returned to normal.

  “It has to be stressful meeting us all.” That voice belonged to Sofia. “Especially everyone at once.”

  “It’s okay, Gramps.” That might have been Cameron. “When I’m upset, it always helps me to clear the air. Say what’s on my mind and then move past it. She won’t hold it against you.”

  “Delia, would you like me to call for a car?” Jager asked in her ear, his voice kind and yet...distant. “You’d be more comfortable at the hotel.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him, her vision beginning to clear. “We can’t leave now after I put everyone in an uproar.”

  “Your color is returning.” She realized Lydia still held her hand on her other side. Or, rather, Delia was gripping Lydia’s hand for dear life.

  “Sorry.” Delia let go and sat up straighter. “I am feeling better.”

  “Maresa went t
o get you something to eat.” Lydia lowered her voice for Delia’s hearing only. “And we’re excited for you, no matter what your plans might be. Babies are the best news.”

  Sliding a sideways glance to gauge her expression, Delia found a wealth of sincerity in those pretty green eyes. And, maybe, a touch of envy. Did Lydia hope to get pregnant herself? she wondered.

  “Thank you. And I am very happy,” Delia assured her, realizing how much more attached she grew to this child every single day. What started out as a shock had come to mean more to her than anything else in her life. Although, she had to admit, winning Jager’s love would have come very close. Thinking about raising their child separately, losing the close relationship they had, made her heart hurt. But the notion of subjecting herself to a loveless marriage hurt worse. She’d been rejected enough by the people in her life.

  Sitting beside him and feeling so apart from him was far worse than any dizziness and exhaustion she may have experienced because of the baby.

  Maresa returned with a plate for Delia at the same time two servers entered with hors d’oeuvres for the group at large. The family all seemed as thrilled to see the food as her, probably grateful for a diversion after the tense start to the cocktail hour. Ian asked Jager about McNeill Meadows and the changes he’d made to the property to highlight its plantation history.

  She breathed a sigh of relief as Jager allowed himself to be pulled into conversation. Hopefully they could get through the rest of the evening on a more positive note. She crunched into a cracker topped with warm brie and a slice of glazed pear, wondering how many she could devour without raising eyebrows.

  As if reading her mind, Lydia winked. “Want me to find a few more of those?”