By lunchtime she had found the source of the problem and had finally talked to Steve. It looked like the situation was becoming less volatile. How had the others fared with the missing girls from last night?
When Lianne returned from lunch, there was a message from her doctor’s office. She called and the nurse asked her to wait as the doctor wanted to speak to Lianne.
“How are you feeling?” the doctor asked when she got on the line.
“Fine right now.”
“There is an opening on the operating schedule in a couple of weeks, I could slot you in.”
“I’m going to try for a baby,” Lianne said firmly.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “You may not be able to become pregnant,” the doctor said.
“I know, but I need to try. If it doesn’t work, I’ll know I did all I could. If it does, then I’ll get to have a child before the operation removes that possibility forever.”
“If I were your age, I’d do the same thing,” the doctor said. “Let me know if you need stronger medication for the cramps. And come see me the minute you think you have conceived. Good luck.”
Heartened by the doctor’s words, Lianne felt better than she had since she’d heard the prognosis. She eyed her calendar. It would be another two weeks before she would be most fertile. For a moment she regretted the delay. After that mind-blowing kiss last night, she couldn’t wait to make a baby with Tray.
It was late afternoon when Tray asked Emily to call Lianne and ask her to join him. His day had gone from bad to worse and this was the first moment he had to catch up. When he heard Lianne by Emily’s desk, he went to the door in time to catch his secretary warning her to be quick.
“He’s running behind everywhere because of taking time off yesterday and the crisis last night. So don’t take any longer than you need.”
Lianne nodded and met Tray’s eyes as she stepped into his office.
He shut the door and swept her into an embrace, files and all. He had thought all day about that kiss and had been counting the minutes until he could kiss her again. She gave a soft squeak of surprise and then met his every move. The files impeded her own embrace, but he didn’t care. Her mouth was what he craved and she was as hot and sweet as he remembered.
Finally he pulled back, gazing down at her. She gave him a sassy look.
“So that’s what being married to the boss is like,” she said.
“Sometimes. What is all that?”
“Carrington’s files.”
He ran his fingers through his hair and stepped away.
“Not to worry, the situation has been resolved. There was a slight glitch in our initial estimates of the strength of the rebels. He’s been apprised and has already found a way to circumvent the stronghold. I’d say the man he’s guarding will continue to be safe.” She laid the complete report on his desk.
“Thanks. I knew I could depend on you.”
“Did you find the missing girls?”
“Yes, at a club they’d already visited. Some young men there lured them back. I think we successfully put the fear of God into them, and made sure their parents knew we don’t deal with people who don’t fully cooperate with the agency.”
“So no surcharge for bad parenting?” she said whimsically, her eyes on his lips.
It was all Tray could do to walk around his desk and glance at the folder. If she looked at him like that for much longer he’d say to hell with any agreement and take her to bed tonight!
“The girls appeared suitably chastised and promised not to do such a thing again. I think Shelley wanted to smack them, but she refrained,” he said, not looking at Lianne again. He needed a minute to get control.
Lianne laughed. “Good. Well, I won’t stay any longer. Just wanted to put your mind at rest over the Carrington situation.”
“You busy tonight?” he asked, looking up then.
She blinked. “No.”
“Have dinner with me.”
“Dinner?”
“Is that so odd for a married couple to eat together?”
“Not for a real married couple.”
“Make no mistake, our marriage is real.”
“Okay, maybe I meant, conventional married couple. Never mind, I’d be glad to have dinner with you. Where shall I meet you?”
“I’ll pick you up around six-thirty. I need to get home and shower first.”
“You’re in the same clothes you had on when we left the sea cottage. Haven’t you been home yet?”
He shook his head.
“You must be tired. Let’s not go out. I can fix something at my place and then you can go home. Or better yet, how about I bring food to your place and then when we finish eating, you can go right to bed?”
Tray laughed aloud. “You’ll make the perfect mother. I’m fine, Lianne. A little tired, maybe, but not on my last legs. I’ll take you up on the offer of a home-cooked meal. But I’ll come to your place so you don’t have to drive yourself home later. Thanks for the concern.”
Tray arrived at Lianne’s shortly before seven. He’d gone home to shower and change as he’d said and felt more alert. Time was when he could stay up two or three nights without many effects. Apparently those days were gone.
Lianne greeted him and offered him a glass of wine. “Dinner will be ready soon,” she said. I just have to quickly steam the veggies.”
“Need help?” he asked, following her into the kitchen, glancing around and taking in the touches of color and knickknacks she displayed. It reminded him a bit of Uncle Hal’s—restful and relaxing.
“Not at all. Go sit down, you look tired.”
So much for feeling his shower rejuvenated him. He prowled the small living room, stopping at her bookshelf to read the titles of some of her books. She liked mysteries and romance novels. Wandering to the window, he looked at the nondescript view. Nothing like the one he had from his flat. He was turning to sit on the sofa when she called, “It’s ready,” a few minutes later, and entered carrying already served plates to the small table in one corner that served as her dining area. It had been set with silverware earlier and Tray watched as Lianne carefully centered the dishes at each place.
“I’ll get the wine and we’ll be ready,” she said, making a quick trip back to the kitchen.
“How long have you had this apartment?” he asked sometime later. Their plates were almost empty. He’d filled her glass, and his, once more. The woman was a good cook. He hoped she offered more home-cooked meals.
“Since I started working for you. The salary I received enabled me to get a bigger place than I had before. I like the location and my neighbors.”
“What you earn now could get you an even bigger home.”
She shrugged. “This suits me. I’m saving my money. Who knows—I might need it if I have a baby.”
“Why?”
“Maybe I’ll take a leave of absence from my job to stay home the first year. I’d need something to replace my income.”
“I’d support you if you choose to do that,” he said. He lifted his glass and studied the wine for a moment. “This is good.”
She nodded, watching him thoughtfully. “I didn’t agree to marriage with the expectation you’d end up supporting me.”
He shrugged. It was only money. “We’ll decide together what’s best for the baby. Tell me more about your family.”
“What do you want to know?”
“What was it like growing up a twin?”
Lianne looked pensive for a moment. “I never knew any difference. Annalise and I have always been close. We did things together and yet were always a part of the family. With so many kids, my folks were hard-pressed to give each of us individual time, but they did. Would you like twins?”
“Be a good solution to having more than one child if you only have one shot at pregnancy,” he said.
The reality of his marrying her for a child rose. For a moment he wondered if she’d glow like some pregnant wo
men did. He’d see all the changes in her body, in her attitude. Rejoice when the baby was born. Have a link to the future. Suddenly Tray wanted Lianne to have his baby more than anything.
Could they do it? Make a baby together? What were the odds she’d deliver twins? They ran in her family, but he’d heard twins skipped generations. Maybe they’d end up with twin grandchildren.
Grandchildren. He stared at Lianne. Would they still be married then? Would they learn to deal with each other and find an affection or genuine liking that went beyond what they had now?
She was looking at him with questions in her eyes. Tray drew a breath and looked away.
“Dinner was delicious. Thank you for cooking instead of choosing a restaurant,” he said easily.
“Do you think about the future?” she asked, suddenly wondering if he was as confused by the way things were going as she was.
“I plan the best I can.”
“I don’t mean work. What if we do have a baby. He or she will grow up, and one day we’ll be grandparents. Did you ever think of that?”
Amusement showed in his dark eyes. Did she read minds? “The thought crossed my mind.”
“So, what if it happens?”
“Then I expect we’ll deal with it.”
“I want close family ties, laughter and sharing at holidays, rallying around when someone needs something. Memories and fun times and bedrock loyalty.”
Tray would give a lot to be included in that.
“Never mind. We are not even expecting a baby yet and I have us as grandparents already. Go sit on the sofa. I’ll bring coffee and dessert,” she said, breaking out of her musings.
“All this and dessert, too?” Tray asked.
“Chocolate cake.”
“My favorite.” He couldn’t remember the last time someone had made a cake just for him.
Lianne quickly did the dishes while the coffee was brewing. His slow smile when she’d mentioned the cake had her stomach turning somersaults. Once the hot beverage finished brewing, she prepared a tray with their cups and plates with generous slices of cake. Carefully carrying them into the living room, she stopped dead when she saw Tray lying on the sofa, fast asleep.
She quietly placed the tray on the coffee table and sat on the nearby chair. “Tray?” she said softly.
There was no response.
Sighing, Lianne picked up her cake and began to eat, watching her husband of two days sleep. Sipping her coffee a few moments later she wondered if she should wake him up to go home, or leave him to get the first sleep he’d probably had in more than forty-eight hours. She opted for letting him sleep. She picked up the tray and took everything back to the kitchen. Putting the cups in the sink and wrapping the cake to keep it fresh, she turned off the light and headed for her room. She had a warm afghan she’d cover him with. She hoped he wouldn’t get cold during the night.
Lianne had no trouble falling asleep. Tray had to be exhausted; he had not slept at all last night. She hoped he was comfortable enough on the sofa.
Lianne had just come from the bathroom the next morning when she heard the knock on her door. Running to get it before the sound woke Tray, she skidded to a stop when she reached the living room just as he opened the door to Annalise.
“Oh,” her twin said. “I didn’t wake you two, did I?”
“Not at all,” Tray said and opened the door wide.
“Hi, Annalise. What brings you here so early?” Lianne asked, walking over to her sister and giving her a kiss on the cheek. She looked warily at Tray. He didn’t know how she’d presented this to her sister.
Tray closed the door and leaned against it, looking from one to the other. He let his gaze briefly track down the length of the robe Lianne had donned, but his interest appeared to be more in the similarities of the two women.
“I have a breakfast meeting and swung by to see how things were going. Well, I take it…” Annalise said, flicking a look at Tray. Her smile was sunny.
“Perfect,” he said, pushing away from the door and crossing to stand beside Lianne.
She almost jumped when his hand came up to her nape and gently massaged.
“We haven’t had breakfast yet—care to join us for coffee or something?” he asked.
Lianne wanted to double-check the tie of the robe, to make sure the opening was secured. She felt distinctively at a disadvantage as the only one not dressed in the group.
And his actions were inexplicable. He knew Annalise understood this wasn’t a real marriage unless there was a baby. What was he doing touching her neck until she was shivering with a tingling awareness that thrust out every cohesive thought?
“Coffee would be lovely,” Annalise said, turning to put her purse down on one of the tables.
“I’ll get it started while you go get dressed,” he said to Lianne, leaning over to kiss her briefly.
She stayed in one spot as he easily crossed to the kitchen. Would he know where to find anything? Glancing at her sister’s speculative look, she smiled brightly and dashed back to the bedroom. Things were spinning out of control. What if it had been her parents who had showed up unannounced? Not that they ever had—but they could.
And what was Tray doing? The caress, the kiss. If she dared spend a second apart from the other two, she would sit on her bed and try to figure things out. But with him in that kind of mood, and her sister arriving unexpectedly, which was totally out of character, she dared not leave them alone for longer than it took to dress.
In record time, she returned to the living room. Tray sat at the small table with Annalise, both had a wary look about them. What were they discussing?
“Coffee ready?” Lianne asked, looking at one then the other.
“Should be. One great trait of your sister is her speed in dressing and packing,” Tray said to Annalise.
“She has other great traits,” her twin returned.
“I know.”
“Hello, you two, I’m right here. Annalise, if you’re going to be snippy, you can leave,” Lianne said, growing annoyed.
“I’m cranky, ignore me. I’d much rather be sleeping in.”
Lianne nodded, gave Tray a speaking look and continued to the kitchen for the coffee.
“So what’s up with your sister?” Tray asked after Annalise had left twenty minutes later.
“I’m not sure.”
“She’s obviously protective toward you. Does she think I’m going to do something to harm you?”
Lianne shook her head. “She thinks you’re going to bail if we don’t conceive and she resents that on my behalf,” Lianne said without looking at him. She gathered the empty cups to give herself something to do.
“Why would she think such a thing?” he asked.
Lianne licked her lips and tried to think up an excuse that would fly without coming out with a lie.
“Just say it,” he said.
“She thinks there’s more to this marriage than there is,” she blurted out, balancing the cups and saucers. Slowly she walked into the kitchen.
Tray pushed back his chair and followed her.
“Such as?” he asked from the doorway.
“Genuine caring between us.”
He studied her for a moment. “I’d agree with that, wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe,” she said slowly. “I told her we were more involved than she suspected. I couldn’t tell her the entire truth. She’d worry too much.”
He stared at her for a moment, his expression closed. Then he gave an abrupt nod and turned back to the living room. “Want to grab breakfast on the way into work?”
She blinked at the lack of follow-up. Was that it? He was letting it go? No comment, no suggestion that she clear the air?
“Aren’t you going home to change first?” she asked, stalling. The sooner she got alone, the better.
“I plan to but we can stop for a meal first.”
“I’ll get a bagel at the coffee shop next to work. I have lots to do today.” What Lianne
really wanted to do was get some time to herself. She was growing more stressed the longer she was around Tray. It seemed easy for him to portray a role. The brief kiss he’d given her had been for Annalise’s benefit. But Lianne couldn’t turn her emotions on and off so easily.
“I apologize for falling asleep last night,” he said. “It was not my intent when I arrived.”
“You were exhausted. There was no problem.” Did he look embarrassed? She couldn’t imagine anything disconcerting Tray.
“Except I missed cake.”
She smiled. “Want a piece now?”
“Yes.”
Watching while he ate the cake, Lianne should have been delighted at the carefree glimpse she was getting of a man she thought was totally business. But she felt as if she were sitting on an edge of a cliff and could topple over with the slightest push.
When Tray stood by the table, he looked at her.
“What we need is a honeymoon,” he said.
“What?” It was the last thing in the world she expected—and the last thing they needed. Was he crazy?
“We don’t know each other beyond work. If we’re to present a convincing front to your family and friends when we go public, I think we need to find out more about each other. I would never send in an agent if he or she hadn’t been briefed. I don’t feel briefed.”
It made sense in a way. But the images that flared had nothing to do with sharing information. Honeymoons were more physical—like sharing a room and a bed, kisses. Her imagination went into overdrive.
“Write me up a bio,” she said, stalling, hoping he couldn’t guess her thoughts.
He shook his head. “Too brief. We’ll spend a couple of days together this weekend. That’ll give us a good start.”
“I don’t know,” she said, hoping inspiration would come fast so she could get out of spending more time with Tray. Until she needed to.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t like being with him, but he made her nervous, self-conscious. Ever since that kiss.
The Pregnancy Promise Page 8