A Baby for the Boss

by Maureen Child

  He scrubbed both hands across his face and told himself this was what he got for going against his own instincts. He’d wanted her. Had to have her. Even knowing that she was a liar. Now he was paying the price for following his own needs.

  “It’s probably why your friend gave them away as party favors,” he muttered darkly. “Because they were no good, she got ’em cheap.

  “But why would you hold on to them?”

  “I didn’t think about it,” she said with a shake of her head. “I just tossed them into the drawer and never gave it another thought.”

  “Perfect,” he muttered, scraping one hand across his face.

  “You knew they were no good,” he said, voice deep, dark. Anger bubbled in his gut until it was a thick, hot brew that spilled through his veins. “You knew what would happen if we used them and you were good with that, weren’t you?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Damn right, I’m serious.” He crowded in on her, forcing her to back up until her legs hit the mattress and she plopped down onto it. “This was all a setup, wasn’t it? Right from the beginning.”

  “What all are you talking about?” she demanded, glaring up at him. “You mean, you coming to my house, willingly going to my bed? That all?”

  “Us meeting in Phoenix. You coming to work at Celtic Knot. It’s all been building to this, right? Why the hell else would you come to work for me after what happened when we met?”

  “You are seriously paranoid,” she snapped, tossing her hair out of her eyes so she could glare at him.

  “Right. I’m paranoid, but you’re pregnant, so maybe I’m not crazy, huh?” He leaned over her until their faces were just a breath apart. The smell of her invaded his senses and threw gasoline on the fire inside him. Even furious, even staggered by her news, Mike could admit to wanting her. To needing her. And that fried him.

  “All you needed to do was get me in here, to use the damn useless condoms so you could get pregnant.” He was so angry, the edges of his vision were blurred. His breath came fast and hard, his heartbeat thundered and desire tangled with fury until his whole body practically vibrated.

  She shoved at him and he backed up just far enough for her to clamber off the bed and gain her feet again. “My God, do you really think you’re that great a prize? Do you know how many times you’ve insulted me by calling me a thief? And that’s supposed to endear you to me somehow?”

  “Yet you slept with me anyway and here we are,” he reminded her, in spite of the sparks flashing in her eyes.

  “You’re right,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her words. “How clever I must be. And psychic as well to know that the great Mike Ryan would one day deign to visit my little apartment. Would allow me to seduce him with my trickery and feminine wiles. How brilliant of me to have faulty condoms so I could fool him into impregnating me. My God, I’m amazing.”

  It sounded ludicrous even to him, but Mike couldn’t let it go completely. His mind worked, with two opposing voices shouting, demanding to be heard. But the calm, cool, rational part of him was buried beneath the facts he couldn’t forget. She’d lied to him the first time he met her. She’d come to work at his company in spite of that. She’d wormed her way onto his hotel design team. She’d made herself important. But he’d kept her on. Hadn’t told Sean to fire her. Why? Because she had gotten into his blood whether he’d wanted her there or not.

  Now she was pregnant.

  He looked down at her and the flash in her blue eyes did nothing to ease the anger bubbling and frothing inside him. It didn’t help to know that even as furious as he was, he could still look at her and need her.

  “No matter what you think,” she said tightly, “I didn’t trick you. I didn’t set up a trap to catch the mighty and elusive Mike Ryan.”

  “Well, since you’re so honest,” he ground out, “I’ll just believe you, okay?”

  “You should but you won’t,” she told him, shaking her head, sending those curls that drove him crazy into a wild dance about her head. She underlined each of her words with a determined tap of her index finger against his chest. “Do you really think I would trap a man who doesn’t want me? I’ve got more self-respect than that, thanks.”

  Jenny stood there facing him, chin lifted, eyes narrowed and hot with banked fury. She looked beautiful and strong, and it took everything he had to fight the urge to grab her and pull her in close. Jenny Marshall got to him like no one else ever had and he hated admitting that, even to himself.

  Shaking his head, he took a mental step backward and told her, “It’s not going to work. You’re not getting money out of me and I won’t marry you.”

  Her head jerked back as if he’d slapped her, but she recovered fast, he had to give her that.

  “I don’t want anything from you. As for marrying me? Who asked you to?” she demanded and whirled around. She left the bedroom, walked into the living room, and he followed because what the hell else was he going to do?

  She stopped in front of the windows and with the last of the sun’s rays silhouetting her in gold, she looked at him and said, “I wouldn’t marry you on a bet, Mike. You think I’d actually trap a man who doesn’t want me into a marriage that would be a misery? No, thanks. I don’t need you to take care of me or my baby, Mike.”

  Now it was his turn to feel insulted. Whatever he did or didn’t feel for Jenny, she was carrying his kid and she’d better get used to that from the jump. “You can’t keep my child from me, Jenny, so don’t even try.”

  “Who said I would?” Shaking her head, she said, “You keep putting words in my mouth. So why not just stop trying to think for both of us? Telling you about the baby was the right thing to do. If you want to see our child, that’s your choice. But you don’t call the shots here, Mike, and I think you should leave.”

  He didn’t want to. But staying here angry wouldn’t help the situation any. He needed some air. Needed to think. But when he walked out of her house and heard the door slam shut behind him, Mike acknowledged that the real problem was that he needed her, too.

  Eight

  “You’re pregnant?”

  Jenny sighed and waited for her uncle to finish ranting. Right after Mike left, she had driven south to her uncle’s house on Balboa Island. She’d needed...support, and she’d known she’d find it here. At least, she would once her uncle was finished calling down curses on Mike Ryan’s head.

  Her gaze tracked the older man as he paced around his living room. Just as when she’d told Mike about the baby, she’d come expecting this exact reaction. The man had never forgiven Mike for accusing Jenny of trying to use him. And this situation wasn’t making her uncle any fonder of Mike Ryan.

  “He turned on you, didn’t he?”

  Jenny winced and her uncle saw it. His gaze narrowed and his features tightened into lines of fury.

  “I knew it. That son of a bitch.”

  She sighed a little.

  “When you told him about the baby, he accused you of trying to trap him into marriage, didn’t he?”

  Well, she could lie to her uncle or she could tell the truth and confirm his opinion of Mike. Jenny thought about it for a second, then decided she didn’t need to protect her baby’s father. “Yes, he did.”

  “Still thinks you’re trying to wangle a deal for Snyder Arts?”

  “I guess,” she said on a sigh.

  “Idiot,” Hank muttered.

  Before he could get going again, Jenny started talking. She wanted to say something that she should have said years ago. “Uncle Hank...”

  The tone in her voice must have alerted him to a change in subject. He looked at her, concern shining in his eyes. “What is it?”

  Lamps on the tables tossed golden light around the room. Outside, lights in homes and boats flickered in the darkness. Th
is was home. Had been since she was a girl. And the comfort she felt here was something she was still grateful for.

  She smiled a little. “I wanted to tell you something. When I first realized I was pregnant, I thought about all the responsibilities lying ahead. And I understood how you must have felt when my parents foisted me off on you.”

  “When they—”

  “I just want you to know that I don’t blame you for not wanting me, back then. I mean,” she hurried on as Hank’s forehead furrowed and his eyes narrowed, “I was twelve and you were alone and had your life and I was a—”

  “Gift,” Hank finished for her while she searched for the right word. “You were a gift,” he repeated as if making sure she understood exactly how he felt. “My sister and her husband were fools then and they’re fools now—wherever they are. They didn’t know what they had in you.”

  Stunned silent, Jenny could only watch him as he approached and cupped her face in his big hands.

  “You opened up my life, Jenny. Of course I wanted you. You’re my family. You’ve been a joy, always. You’re my daughter more than my niece. And now, you’ve given an old man something to look forward to—you’re going to make me a grandfather.”

  Her vision blurry from behind a sheen of tears, Jenny could only look up at the one steady presence she’d known her whole life.

  “No more of this not-wanting-you stuff, okay?” he asked. “Don’t you ever even think it. Understand?”

  She nodded because she didn’t trust herself to speak. Her heart was too full to allow for mere words to explain what she felt.

  “Good,” he said with a sharp nod. “We’ve got that settled once and for all. But as for Mike Ryan...”

  “Uncle Hank, this isn’t all on Mike. I’m a big girl—”

  “You’re too trusting and he’s a man used to taking what he wants. That’s the issue here,” Hank muttered darkly. He paced again as if he couldn’t stand still another minute. “Thinks because he’s richer than Croesus he can just call the tune everyone’s supposed to dance to.”

  Jenny rolled her eyes and he saw that, too.

  “I’m wound up and I know it,” he said, “but with reason.”

  “I appreciate it, really I do,” Jenny told him and walked across the comfortably furnished and oh-so-familiar room to his side.

  Nothing in this house had changed in decades. There were comfy chairs, heavy tables and a stone-faced fireplace. The cream-colored walls were covered with paintings by local artists—and a few of Jenny’s early works. He had a housekeeper who’d been with him for thirty years and ran the house like a general his battalion.

  “You’re going to have the man’s baby, Jenny. He should offer to marry you. It’s what’s right—not that Mike Ryan would know that.”

  She blew out a breath as she looked into the older man’s worried eyes. Uncle Hank was tall and lanky, with thick gray hair, steely blue eyes and a stubborn jaw that was now set as if he were ready to bite through a box of nails. He had been the one steady influence in her life and he was the only family she really had. Her parents had disappeared from her life so many years ago, Jenny had no idea if they were living or dead. Hank, though, had always been there for her.

  Even though, despite what he had just said, she couldn’t imagine it had been easy for him to take on a twelve-year-old girl out of the blue.

  She had known even then that she was his duty. She hadn’t believed he’d really wanted her—why would he? His life was simple, uncomplicated. Why would he take on a twelve-year-old with abandonment issues voluntarily? But he’d taken her in, cared for her, seen her through school and dating, and even hired Jenny for her first real job as a summer intern at Snyder Arts. Hank had been the one to give her pastels and inks and sketch pads. He’d seen her raw talent and encouraged her to grow it. She would always owe him for that and for so much more.

  “I don’t need him to marry me,” she said softly, laying one hand on her uncle’s arm.

  “’Course you don’t, but he should have offered, damn it, not made you feel like a cheat or worse.”

  “I don’t want a man who’s forced to marry me because of circumstances.” She remembered the look on Mike’s face before he left. The harsh words they’d thrown at each other, and though it tore at her to admit it, Jenny knew that it was over between them. A low, throbbing ache settled into her heart and she had the distinct feeling that it would be there with her forever.

  “So you’d have said no if he’d asked?”

  “Yes,” she said and knew he didn’t really understand. In Hank’s world, a man took care of his responsibilities. But what he didn’t get was that Jenny didn’t want to be the duty Mike picked up and carried under duress. If he didn’t love her and want her, she didn’t want him, either.

  She still loved him, though, damn it. Even hearing his accusations hadn’t been enough to kill off her feelings. Did that make her crazy or just stupid? She didn’t know. All Jenny could hope was that the love she felt for Mike would slowly fade away.

  Besides, she hadn’t really been surprised when Mike didn’t want her. No one ever really had. Until today, she would have said that not even her uncle had wanted her.

  And she would never allow her child to feel that way.

  “Mike Ryan.” Hank shook his head and gray hair sproinged out around his head until he looked like a taller, more handsome Albert Einstein. “What were you thinking, honey? You know that man isn’t to be trusted.”

  “Funny,” she mused. “He says the same about me.”

  Hank stabbed his index finger toward her. “That tells you everything you need to know about the man. You’re the most honest person I’ve ever known. If he can’t see that, it’s a lack in him, not you.”

  Warmth trickled through her. “Thanks, Uncle Hank.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for the truth, honey,” he said, shoving both hands into his pockets. “And I’m sorry to be carrying on so, but it just pops my corn that the man has taken advantage of you this way.”

  Jenny’s mouth quirked. He sounded as if he thought she was a vestal virgin tempted out of her temple by Blackbeard.

  “Uncle Hank...”

  “Fine, fine.” He lifted both hands. “You’re a grown woman and you don’t need your old uncle spouting off when you’ve got plenty to think about on your own.”

  “Thank you, though,” she said, putting her arms around his waist. “For the outrage. For the support. For loving me.”

  True to form, Hank stiffened a little, as he always had. Hugs seemed to flummox him a bit, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do in response. And Jenny had often wondered what his late wife had been like. If she’d lived, would he be more comfortable with displays of emotion? He gave her a few awkward pats on her shoulder, then eased her back so he could look into her eyes.

  “Are you all right with this?” he wanted to know. “I mean, you’re healthy? You’re going to be okay?”

  “I’m fine and yes, I’m going to be great.” She smiled. “I want this baby, Uncle Hank.”

  “Then I’ll do whatever I can to help you, honey.”

  She smiled again. Hank wasn’t the most outwardly affectionate man, but he was loyal and kind and dependable. If he made a promise, he kept it.

  “What’re you going to do about your job?” he asked.

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t know.” She bit at her bottom lip as she thought about it. “Working with Mike for months will be impossible now. Especially once word gets out around the office—and it will—that I’m carrying his child.”

  Hank frowned and looked as though he wanted to say something else, but he kept his silence and Jenny went on.

  “But I’m not going to do anything about it right now. I’ve got the hotel in Nevada to finish.”

  “You’re st
ill going to do it?”

  “Absolutely,” she told him. Not only was she too invested in the project to give it up now, but being in Laughlin working would keep her from having to deal with Mike every day. “It’s a fabulous opportunity and I don’t want to give it up. I’ve got the whole thing planned out and letting someone else take it over is just impossible.”

  “Always were stubborn,” he muttered.

  “Wonder where I got it,” she countered and went up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

  He looked pleased but baffled.

  “Come on in and eat, you two. Dinner’s going cold on the table.”

  Jenny looked over at Betty Sanders, housekeeper, cook and, as Uncle Hank liked to call her, his nemesis. She was short and thin, disproving the theory that a great cook had to be big. She wore jeans and a sweatshirt and had her long gray hair in a braid wrapped around the back of her head like a halo.

  Jenny appreciated the offer, but she wasn’t all that hungry, either. “Thanks, Betty, but—”

  “If you’re going to have a baby, you’re going to feed it. Now come in and sit down.” Betty had helped raise Jenny and had run Hank’s house and life for too long to stop now.

  “Might as well,” Uncle Hank said with a shrug. “You know she won’t quit hounding you until you do.”

  “True.” Jenny walked with him into the dining room, glad to be here in the home she’d loved growing up. Out the windows was a view of Balboa Bay, with beautiful houses lined along the shore and boats tied up at the docks.

  When she first came here, Jenny had spent a lot of time down on the dock, watching the boats sail past, wondering if her parents would come back, if Hank would send her somewhere else. She’d felt lost and alone until the day her uncle had come out, sat down beside her and said, If you’re going to be spending so much time out on the dock, I’d better teach you how to sail.

  He took her out on his boat that very afternoon and for the first time in her life, she’d felt the amazing freedom in skimming across the water’s surface, feeling the wind stream through her hair. He’d let her steer the boat, putting his big hands over hers on the wheel and explaining the harbor and the neighborhood that was now hers. That’s when she’d understood that she was there to stay. Hank had given her everything in that one afternoon.