by Lori Foster
“We’ve had two more women check out of the clinic.”
R.J. cursed. Dana rubbed her brow.
“Dana, you’ve done an excellent job of showcasing R.J.’s more redeemable qualities, but the matter of the baby still exists. Until we find the father or mother, the clinic is going to be under suspicion. I’m not overly worried about that, but I’ve decided to call Jake home.”
R.J. turned to her sharply. “Do you know how to reach him?”
“He always leaves me a contact number in case of an emergency.” She tried to say it with more confidence than she felt. She had no idea what her younger son was involved in. They all teased him about being a spy, but sometimes Megan wondered if there was some truth to the taunt. “Since your marriage, much of the fire has been aimed at him. He has a right to be here to defend himself, and of course, though I wouldn’t say it to anyone else, there is the possibility that he’s the father.”
Dana glanced at R.J. “Miss Markum asked to do an interview with R.J., but he refused. I think that’s why she’s turned up the heat again.”
Megan drew a breath. “Well, you just go on refusing, R.J. That woman will only get what we choose to give her, and she’ll learn the Maitlands can’t be bullied.”
R.J. put his arm around his mother and said, “Be sure to let me know how Jake feels about being accused of fathering a baby by fifty different women.”
“You can ask him yourself,” she said with a smile. “If I have my way, he’ll be here for Thanksgiving. It’ll be nice to have the whole family together and it’ll give Connor the chance to meet Jake.”
R.J. stiffened, as Megan had known he would. But she couldn’t explain about Connor, not yet.
“Have you had him investigated, Mother?”
“Soon,” was all she’d say on the matter. “Now, I need to get going. I’m meeting Connor for lunch.”
R.J. was still frowning after his mother was gone, the door closed behind her.
Dana glanced at him, trying to keep her expression cool. “As long as I’m here and interrupting your day, could you spare the time to give me a recommendation?”
A shock of angry disbelief darkened his eyes. “A what?”
“A recommendation. I could use it for finding a new position. I spent the morning hunting up prospects—in between interviewing your applicants, who, by the way, all failed miserably—and I have a few possibilities that seem interesting.”
He advanced until he was very near her. “Let’s go over this a little more slowly, if you please. What the hell do you mean my applicants all failed?”
Dana shook her head with pity. “They were all anxious for the job, no doubt about that. But they didn’t have the necessary skills. What they had was a healthy hunger to bag the boss. And if you think I’m distracting, you wouldn’t have lasted a minute with any of them.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning they were all young and very attractive,” she said with terse disdain, then started to turn away.
R.J. caught her to him, holding her against his chest. His gaze was probing, then his hazel eyes lightened, and though he didn’t quite smile, Dana could see he was amused. “You’re jealous.”
Outrage bubbled up inside her because he was right. She’d taken one look at the women and dismissed them all, despite their qualifications. “Ha!” was all she could think to say.
R.J. pinched her chin and spoke in a husky whisper. “There’s no need, you know. I’ve got a hunger for a prickly, uptight, recently debauched virgin, and no one else will do.”
Her face flamed at his description, but she thought with spite that he hadn’t seen the women or he wouldn’t be so positive about that. She pulled her chin free. “Well, your hunger will be safe soon enough, if you’ll give me the recommendation. I have two positions to look at after work, and while you were in the conference with your mother, Mr. Brashear from the supplies office down the street stopped in. He heard I’d soon be free, and he offered me a job. With a raise.”
R.J. took two steps back. “No.”
Quirking her brow, Dana said, “I wasn’t aware it was your decision to make.”
“I know Brashear. You’re not working for him.”
Brashear had stopped by, but Dana had dismissed him as a possibility. The position was a good one, with excellent pay and benefits, but the man was a reprobate. “Stop grinding your teeth, R.J. I’ll work for whomever I please.”
“Not as my wife, you won’t. Hell, the man’s a lecher. If he offered you a job, it’s just so he can chase you around his desk!”
Dana went on tiptoe, which wasn’t easy in her new shoes, and spoke straight into R.J.’s face. She was beyond furious, and the anger felt good, much better than the jealousy. “Maybe,” she nearly shouted, “unlike you, Brashear recognizes my qualities as a first-class executive assistant! Did you think of that possibility?”
“No, and neither did he!”
Dana grabbed her head. “My God, you’re a pig-headed man!” She stomped out of his office and into her own, this time refraining from slamming the door. It closed with a quiet click. She was in the office, after all, and as she’d just told him, she was the best executive secretary there was.
And she’d go on being that until R.J. actually forced her to leave. Not that he needed to know that.
She checked his schedule, then waited ten minutes before reminding him he had a few calls to make. She kept her tone polite—barely, and R.J. merely grunted a reply. When she inquired as to whether or not he’d written the recommendation, he slammed his finger down on the intercom button and disconnected her.
Dana grinned.
Poor R.J. He had his hands full right now, but she had to admit she enjoyed his display of jealousy. If she chose to see it as a promising sign, it was nobody’s business but her own. She did feel horrible that all this was happening at such a bad time for him. His reputation was no longer being shredded, but apparently the clinic’s reputation was still threatened, and she knew he was worried about Megan.
The sudden appearance of Connor was suspect, as far as she was concerned. Why would the man show up after all this time? And didn’t he have any more pride than to allow Megan to pay his way?
Dana shook her head. She supposed they’d find some answers in the next few weeks. Maybe then R.J. would be able to put at least that worry to rest. After all, if Connor was telling the truth, if he was Megan’s nephew, then he had a rightful place in her affections.
The door between their offices opened and R.J. stood there leaning against the frame, looking at her. Dana glanced up with a silent question.
“I’m sorry.”
She was so surprised, she blinked. “What was that?”
He gave a hearty sigh and shook his head. “You want your pound of flesh, huh? Very well, I said I’m sorry.”
Dana came slowly to her feet. “For what—exactly?”
“For wanting to fire you. Hell, it won’t matter if I can see you or not, I’m still going to want you. And I’m still going to spend far too much time thinking about you.”
She gave him a steady look. “And you don’t want me working for Brashear.”
He gave a brief nod.
Dana smiled, then moved closer to him. “There’s a solution, you know?”
“I’m ready to hear it.”
She slid one hand down his tie, then slipped her fingers between the buttons of his shirt until she felt the hot silk of his skin. She felt incredibly bold. “We could spend all our time away from the office in bed, so that you’d get your fill. Maybe then you wouldn’t have the energy to think about sex here in the office.”
His look was so hot she felt scorched, but he kept his expression bland enough. “That’s a very workable plan. I can see you truly are experienced in managing my office dilemmas.”
She chuckled, but then gasped when he picked her up and carried her into his office, shoving the door shut with his foot. He set her on her feet then turned the lock.
&n
bsp; “There’s also another idea I thought we might try.” His hand went under her skirt and lifted it even as he backed her into the door, wedging her legs apart with his knee. “It’s called a nooner, and I think it’d go a long way to relieving my tension so I can quit slacking off and actually get some work done.”
Dana, already feeling the effects of his seeking, stroking hand, said breathlessly, “I believe I could pencil that into your schedule.” Then R.J. was kissing her and she didn’t say anything else.
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, R.J. was whistling as he tucked his shirt in and watched Dana struggle with her hair. Her panty hose were ruined, lying in a heap on the floor. R.J. picked them up. “I’ll personally see that you have a supply kept on hand.”
She sent a teasing frown his way, still trying to catch her breath. “That won’t do me much good right now.”
His voice dropped, and he touched her cheek tenderly. “Shall I run down to the gift shop for you?”
“No!”
He laughed. “You know, another thing we’ll need to keep on hand is condoms. I’m not in the habit of carrying more than one—and that has always been for emergencies.”
Jealousy flared again, though he’d just finished loving her very thoroughly. Her eyes narrowed. “Emergencies?”
“Hmm. With you tempting me all day, I expect to have a lot of emergencies.”
Dana considered that, then mentioned something that she hadn’t thought of before. She straightened R.J.’s tie, just so she wouldn’t have to look right at him as she said it. “You didn’t use protection last night.”
He drew a deep breath and caught her hands. “No, and I’m sorry about that. No excuse except that you do affect me in uncommon ways. But, honey, if there’s any…problem, let me know right away.”
“Problem?”
“I have no interest in being a father, Dana. Now or ever. I’ve told you that before.”
She remembered him saying as much when Tanya had claimed to be the abandoned baby’s mother. But that had been Tanya.
And what made her think she was special? Dana wondered.
Every wonderful thing she’d just been feeling seemed to dissipate like mist. “I want children someday.”
There was no hesitation in his answer. “That’s fine. And I wish you luck.” His expression hardened and he added, “Just don’t expect me to be the father.”
She started to turn away, wanting only to be alone, to nurse her sudden overwhelming grief without fear of him seeing too much, but R.J. caught her arm.
“If you find out you’re pregnant, you’ll tell me immediately. I don’t think there’s much to worry about, since it was only the one night, but just in case—”
“I understand.” And she did. Only too well.
As Dana sat at her desk, seeing nothing but the destruction of her own silly dreams, she wondered about the little baby Megan was taking care of. What if R.J. had been the father? She could understand now why it would have made him so angry. But that poor baby.
And if it wasn’t R.J., who was the father?
CONNOR O’HARA walked outside his Montana ranch house, ambling around the empty, expansive grounds. The November wind whistled and howled over the trees in a mournful wail, reminding him he was alone. The cold sliced through his shearling coat like thin icy blades. This wasn’t Texas, he thought with a shudder, where even now the temperatures would be mild.
He looked out at the brittle, winter landscape, but he wasn’t really seeing it. In his hand, the letter from the lawyer fluttered.
It was from Harland Maitland, his deceased grandfather.
His hand knotted into a fist against his thigh, crumpling the paper. He stopped to rest his back against a bare tree. So much had changed in his life. First his mother had confessed that he was adopted—a truth guaranteed to rattle anyone’s foundation. But he could accept that. His mother had always been there for him, and he’d loved her dearly. Finding out she hadn’t given birth to him wouldn’t change that.
She’d known she was dying or perhaps he’d never have found out the truth. He’d wondered at the time who his real mother could be, but not once had he suspected the truth.
His grief and confusion had driven him to Lacy Clark, his young housekeeper. What a mistake that had been, he thought with the niggling remains of anger. She’d been so sweet, so ready to please him. And she’d seemed so wholesome, a child of nature with her long blond hair, her big innocent blue eyes. But after one night in his bed, she’d run off with someone else, or so Janelle, his mother’s new maid, had claimed. He’d come home from a brief business trip to find Lacy gone. If Janelle hadn’t still been there, he’d never have known what had happened to Lacy. Her betrayal had been the killing blow.
There’d been nothing left for him in Texas, so he’d dismissed Janelle, uprooted himself and moved to Montana.
But now, the lawyer’s letter claimed he had a very valid reason to visit Texas again. Connor stared at the scrap of paper, more tattered than not, thanks to his bruising hold on it. That single piece of paper had affected a lot of people. He wasn’t the only one involved.
The letter explained how Megan Kelly’s father told a young Megan her baby had died when he’d really sold it to Harland Maitland for his daughter, Clarise—Connor’s adoptive mother.
According to the letter, Megan, who’d become a Maitland after her marriage to Harland’s son, William, was his birth mother. She’d thought he was dead; he hadn’t known she existed.
Now the big question was, what would he do with the information?
Should he look her up and explain? Or should he leave things as they stood? After all, if Clarise had known the truth, maybe there was a damn good reason she hadn’t shared it with him.
Connor turned and headed for the house. Usually the quiet of his land gave him some measure of peace, but tonight there would be no rest for him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DANA WAS too quiet, and he didn’t like it. R.J. watched her as they stepped into his mother’s home, trying to decide what the problem could be, but she was giving away no clues. She seemed fragile, and that brought out his protective instincts like never before.
He should have been well pleased with things, R.J. thought. Dana hadn’t missed her period, as he’d first feared, and his relief had been monumental. She was still working for him, but true to her word, she scheduled private, very naughty meetings for the two of them whenever possible—and Dana was a whiz with his schedule. But it didn’t stop there. Now that he’d gotten her over her skewed perception of herself, she was open, sometimes even extravagant in her desire, and she matched him perfectly.
He liked coming home to her. She insisted on cooking often, and though he’d always considered Betty an excellent cook, it was different when Dana was puttering around in his kitchen. He liked to sit at the table and help, or just talk to her. Or watch the graceful, feminine way she moved. He could easily imagine doing just that for the rest of his life.
They were mobbed as they stepped in the door of his mother’s home, warm and filled with the scents of roasting meats, baking bread and sweet desserts. He glanced around the room and saw his twin sisters, Beth and Ellie, immediately heading for them. Beth’s fiancé, Brandon, was in close conversation with Ellie’s fiancé, Sloan Cassidy. R.J. thought to join the men, but his sisters pulled him aside, hugging him and chiding him for being late. Dana laughed as she was drawn in a different direction, welcomed by his family and their friends.
“I had a few last-minute things to take care of,” R.J. explained to his sisters. “Is Connor here?” R.J. had met Connor earlier, but he hadn’t had the opportunity to spend much time with him.
Ellie gave him a somber look. “He’s in the living room with Abby and Kyle. Come on, we’ll go together.”
R.J. exchanged robust greetings with his various family members as he followed Ellie. His sister Anna was already ensconced with Dana in the corner, along with Hope Logan. The women made an austere group, n
ot one of them smiling. R.J. naturally sought out Drake, and found him propped against the buffet, scowling at his wife from across the room. R.J. pulled up short.
“Just a minute, Ellie. I want to speak to Drake first.”
“Good luck.” Ellie gave Drake a pitying glance. “Mother had to practically twist his arm to get him to come this year. And he’s done nothing more than brood since he arrived.”
R.J. frowned. That wasn’t like Drake. He and Hope always joined in the family get-togethers. Hope was close friends with his sisters, and Drake, as the clinic’s VP of finance, knew the entire family well.
“Drake.” R.J. clapped him on the shoulder by way of greeting and got a glare in return.
“You made me spill my drink.”
Laughing, R.J. took the drink from him and set it on the credenza. “If you don’t get rid of your black cloud, it’s going to start raining in here and ruin my mother’s rug.”
Drake muttered an oath, then leaned his head against the wall, his eyes closed. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“Nonsense. We consider you one of the family.”
Drake’s eyes opened, and his gaze zeroed in on his wife. “It’s getting harder and harder to pretend.”
R.J. watched him with a frown. “Sorry, you lost me there.”
Drake’s expression grew even more sullen. “Hope and I are separated.”
If R.J. had been drinking, he’d have choked. As it was, he nearly choked anyway. “When did this happen?”
With a vague motion of his hand, Drake said, “It’s been a while. I haven’t bothered to go shouting it to the world, but I have a feeling my wife has been more than willing to.”
R.J. followed his gaze to the cloister of women in the far corner and saw they were all frowning in sympathy. Yep, they were commiserating. Then he noticed that Dana looked even more upset than the others, and wondered if she, too, had personal woes she intended to reveal to the female masses. The thought didn’t please him at all.