Romeo for Hire

by Jane Beckenham

It obviously hadn’t been part of Marco’s plan, either.

  Carly grimaced. Not only had she made a fool of herself, Marco had thought she wanted the romance, even suggesting she angled for marriage. The man had laughed his head off at her.

  Her mouth trembled, and she gnawed at her swollen bottom lip. She felt so confused. One part of her wanted to admit her love to the heavens, while her normal, self-controlled, goal-setting self denied it.

  But she loved the heavenly hunk.

  Okay, so she’d known him only four days and really knew nothing about him, but what the heck, her body and heart told her differently. Who was she to disobey their commands?

  She’d been there, done that with kids, albeit playing mummy to her siblings and mothering her mother when she’d staggered through her own brand of ineptitude. They were years Carly tried to forget and had put her off marriage and babies and unreliable husbands for life.

  Carly sniffed and pulled the last tissue from the box, eying the overflowing rubbish bin.

  Nope. She was better without a man. She would get on with life without any interruptions from heavenly hunks of any kind, especially not from one willing to play Romeo on a whim.

  As her eyelids fluttered and her breathing steadied, she reminded herself of her newest rule in her life. “If there is one thing I’ll never, ever do again,” she whispered as her voice slurred with sleep, “I’ll never invent a mystery man. No more hunks for this gal.”

  Chapter Eight

  Three Months Later

  A choking bile rose in Carly’s throat, making her gag. She shot out of bed, ignoring the chill of the early morn, and raced for the bathroom. A fleeting glance at her reflection in the mirror shocked her, but she didn’t wait. She couldn’t. Rocked with nausea, she bent over the toilet bowl and vomited for the second time in as many days, surrendering to each new wave without any option.

  Finally, as the nauseous surge waned, she stood, brushing aside the tangled mass of her hair. Her pallor was as bleak as a piece of paper. She ran the cold water, splashed her face and cleaned her teeth to get rid of the acidic taste in her mouth. Her hand fell to her stomach.

  Could she be…pregnant?

  The thought cut across the nausea.

  Her hand rubbed her stomach in small circles, an oddly comforting gesture as she stared down.

  She couldn’t be. She’d had her period. Light, yes, but still…

  Carly shook her head. No. She didn’t want to think about it. Not now. She had too much at stake to even consider a baby.

  Marco’s baby.

  Back in her bedroom, she glanced at the clock. Seven a.m. Time to get to the office. She had to arrange the final plan for the big presentation. A thrust of determination shot through her. She wanted the contract with a vengeance. It would put her business on the road map once and for all.

  After a quick shower, she dressed in a navy suit with a coral polo underneath. It gave the suit a slight edge, something that said a bit more than “office”. With matching shoes and her trademark gold bracelets and hoop earrings in place, she eyed herself in the mirror.

  The summer sun’s highlights in her hair were almost gone, as was summer. Autumn had arrived on the doorstep.

  “Summer.” The word rolled off the tip of Carly’s tongue. Summer meant sand and surf. Summer was Marco. Summer would always be tinged with memories of Marco and their time in paradise.

  But summer was over. So was her fling with Marco. Over before it began. Suddenly, an ice-cold fear sprinted through Carly’s veins and her hand stilled mid-air, her hairbrush clattering to her floor.

  “Forget it. Forget him,” she said. But she couldn’t. Sinking onto her bed, she wrapped her arms tightly around her chest. She was trying to forget him, but it was always the same. Every time she saw her reflection in the mirror, she would remember the words of love Marco had whispered as he caressed her.

  Get over it.

  Snapping out of her daze, Carly picked up the hairbrush. She needed to go to work. Work solved everything.

  “Tansy, have you got those samples of brocade and velvet we ordered?” Carly called the moment she entered the office.

  Tansy Butler was a sweet, willing-to-do-anything-and-everything assistant without whom Carly couldn’t manage.

  Dropping the folder onto her desk, she turned to Tansy who raced in with the samples. Taking them, her fingers grazed over the textured brocade and the silky smooth pile of the opulent velvets. She smiled. “These are perfect.”

  The young woman nodded. “They’re the best quality. Exactly what the hotel chain wants. Drop-dead luxurious.”

  Carly laughed, patting the fabrics. “If this doesn’t send them our way, nothing will.”

  “Your designs are top notch. They won’t want anyone else.”

  Carly wanted to agree, but forced herself to stem her excitement. “Let’s just wait.”

  “Carly, you are far too reserved.”

  “No, not reserved, Tansy. Designers can’t afford to be reserved. Call me cautious. You know the saying about eggs and baskets. Well, I’m just not counting those eggs quite yet.”

  “Wait until tomorrow when they sign on the dotted line then you can shout from the rooftops.”

  “Perhaps not the rooftops,” Carly chuckled, “but it will be nice to celebrate.”

  Just then another bout of nausea washed over her, and her vision went suddenly murky. She felt raging hot, but the next second was icy cold. A damp beading of sweat broke out on her forehead, and her mouth went dry. The samples slid from her hands and fell to the floor.

  “Are you okay?”

  Carly sank into her chair. “I’m not sure. I…”

  “Here.” Tansy quickly poured her a glass of water from the jug on her desk and handed it to her. Her pulse raced and everything went topsy-turvy. She closed her eyes and sucked in a steadying gulp of air, aware of a concerned Tansy hovering nearby.

  “I think you should go to the doctor.”

  “No! There’s too much to do. Not enough time.” Carly struggled to sit up, but Tansy’s hand remained firmly on her shoulder and kept her sitting.

  “Listen, Carly. You’ve done too much, for too long. Time to back up a bit. These past three months, you’ve worked like a demon. You need a life.”

  “I can’t. The presentation is tomorrow.”

  “Except for the samples to be posted to the color boards, the presentation is complete.”

  Carly concentrated on breathing, wishing the roaring in her ears would stop. The phone rang, but Tansy beat her to it, answering it quickly and decisively. In the background, Carly could hear the muted conversation, but it was all too much for her and she closed her eyes again and tried to block out her ongoing queasiness.

  “Right, that’s all settled.”

  Carly’s eyes flickered open. Tansy stood in front of her, a satisfied grin on the young woman’s face.

  “What have you done, Tansy? I’m not sure I like that look.” She tried to smile, but it was too hard and took too much energy.

  “A doctor’s appointment. I’ve ordered a taxi. It’ll be here in a couple of minutes.”

  “Taxi? Doctor? I don’t need either. I can drive.”

  “Sure you can, then you sick up just as you turn a corner. Not a good idea. It’s all taken care of.”

  Grateful someone else was taking charge, Carly sank back into her seat. “I’m not going to drop dead, you know.”

  “Time you looked after yourself.”

  “You say it as if it’s a big problem.”

  Tansy merely gave her a knowing smile which caused Carly to wonder if the young woman knew something she didn’t know. But then again, it was all too much, and she closed her eyes while she waited for the taxi.

  Dr. Maria Purvis indicated the cubicle. “You can get dressed again.”

  Carly took a quick glance at her doctor. What was wrong? Measles? Mumps? Chickenpox? She mentally ticked them off as she dressed and re-entered the surgery.

/>   “Sit down, please.”

  Rigid with nerves, Carly clutched her purse to her chest. Fear prickled down her spine, anxiety gnawing low in her belly.

  “Congratulations, Ms. Mason, you’re pregnant.”

  Carly’s jaw dropped, but no sound came out. The seconds ticked by and still nothing.

  “I’d say about three months, to be exact,” the doctor informed her.

  “I can’t be,” Carly exploded in a whoosh of air, and the roar in her ears started up again. Thunderous this time, but it couldn’t blank out one word.

  Pregnant.

  The doctor’s brow rose, and her lips twitched with mirth.

  Carly snapped her mouth closed.

  “Not quite impossible, I’d say. The tests,” she said, referring to the paperwork on her desk, “are conclusive.”

  “Absolute, you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  Dazed, Carly slumped back in the chair.

  Pregnant. She was pregnant.

  “Due late October. We’ll need some other tests.”

  “October,” Carly repeated, dazed.

  Marco.

  A baby.

  Marco’s baby.

  Their baby.

  Her gaze lowered to her still flat abdomen, and she rested a hand protectively against the soft rise and fall of her stomach. She was carrying a child. A boy or girl? A burst of laughter rippled from her lips and a broad smile lit her face. She looked back up at the doctor.

  “You’re pleased?”

  “It’s a bit of a shock, but I think so.”

  “And the father?”

  “The father…” What about the father? What about Marco? Would he want to know? She didn’t even know where he was, so how could she tell him? Her head shook with all the questions that whirred in her brain. “There is no father.” Carly reddened. “Well, not around, if you know what I mean.”

  “Don’t worry, it’ll work out. The receptionist will book your scan and checkups.”

  Overwhelmed with information, Carly nodded and left, but didn’t make the appointments.

  Later.

  She’d sort it out later.

  It would be all right, the doctor said.

  Would it? She had to believe that.

  Where work had been her salvation in the past, now she couldn’t concentrate one iota as the afternoon ticked by in a blur.

  Pregnant.

  Even mouthing the word nearly choked her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like babies. She loved them. Other people’s, that was. She just hadn’t envisioned babies for herself. Taking charge of her sisters and their subsequent broods had been enough babies for a lifetime. She wanted more out of life and had set her heart on building her business.

  Now this.

  A baby.

  What about the presentation?

  Chucking up midway through was not an option, and she couldn’t let Tansy do it. CV Hotels was expecting Mason Designs, and specifically its owner.

  “They want me, they’ll get me, morning sickness or not. So come on, baby.” Carly patted her stomach. “Do this for your mama and hold back that sick stuff, eh? Let me get this done tomorrow, then you can make me chuck as much as you like.”

  “Baby? Did I hear the word baby?”

  Carly sagged. Big mouth. She gave her assistant a faint, fluttering smile and shrugged sheepishly.

  Tansy rushed forward. “That’s great! I thought it might be that. Wowee!” She gave her a hug and then just as suddenly stepped back. “You are all right, aren’t you?”

  Unable to remain unaffected by Tansy’s infectious spirit, Carly grinned. “Yes, I’m fine. The baby’s fine, too. In fact, as long as I can keep the nausea at bay, we’ll be dandy.”

  “You don’t sound too sure.”

  “Let’s put it this way. The baby thing was a big shock, but I guess it’ll grow on me.”

  “’Course it will. Babies are great fun.”

  “Fun,” Carly repeated. She wasn’t so sure of that. Fun wasn’t the word she would have used for that time of her life.

  For the remainder of the day, Carly worked at half speed. Anything more and a rising tide of panic threatened to overwhelm her and she had to sit. She only hoped the baby would heed her plea and back off the sick bag routine tomorrow.

  Finally, with everything complete, she escaped home, grateful to ease her tired legs onto the sofa. Her apartment was her sanctuary, her hideaway from the world. The one place she felt at peace.

  Too tired and shocked to contemplate fixing herself a meal, she reheated yesterday’s risotto and numbly ate, staring out to the street below. The neighbors’ children played in their front yard tossing a brightly colored ball back and forth, their uncomplicated, childish laughter echoing up the street. Carly edged forward and lifted her hand to the window. The glass was cold to the touch. Exactly how she felt inside.

  She trailed her fingers over the pane as seven-year-old Jimmy raced to retrieve the ball. He stopped and looked up. Bright, lively eyes caught hers for a moment before a shout went up behind him and he glanced quickly over his shoulder. He gave her a cheery smile and wave before spinning in his battered sneakers to return to his mates.

  They all looked happy.

  Carly tried to remember a similar time in her own childhood, but came up blank. Surely she must have played.

  Overwhelmed by a deep, heart-wrenching sadness, she dragged herself away from the window. She couldn’t remember playing—ever. In her experience, childhood and freedom didn’t go hand in hand. Having to play mother to her siblings had meant that her childhood had been almost non-existent.

  Tossing out her half-eaten meal, she decided to shower, but as she toweled herself dry she caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror. She didn’t look any different. Her stomach was still flat, though her breasts felt swollen.

  Carly smiled at her reflection, wondering about all the changes that would happen over the next few months. In part, she was afraid, yet another part of her welcomed the excitement. Wrapped in her warmest nightdress, a neck to toe job that held not the remotest hint of sexiness, Carly crawled into bed, pulled the covers right up to her ears and snuggled down. She let out a deep sigh, wishing her body would relax. She wanted oblivion. Today’s news was a shock of the deepest kind.

  A baby.

  Her baby.

  Marco’s baby.

  Her eyes fluttered shut and she sighed. A baby was good. It would be okay.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come? Moral support and all that?” Tansy argued.

  “No. It’s fine. Stay and look after the shop.”

  “While you go and knock their socks off.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Carly automatically crossed her fingers. “So far, so good.” She hadn’t been sick this morning. She patted her stomach.

  Face tense with concern, Tansy asked, “You okay?”

  Carly smiled and looked down at her hand, surprised at her own action. “Sure. Baby is behaving this morning and giving me a break from racing to the bathroom.”

  “Good. Keep telling that little blimp and it’ll understand how important this is.”

  “You think so?”

  “Sure. They play music to babies before they’re born, don’t they?”

  Carly shook her head. The idea sounded both weird and wonderful at the same time. “Guess I’ll have to get some how-to baby and mother books.”

  But Tansy was busy sorting through the incoming mail and didn’t hear her. Carly took several deep breaths and seated herself at her desk. She wanted to go over everything one more time, make sure she had all the plans and design layouts for her presentation.

  Focusing on what she wanted to achieve, she whispered a silent prayer all would go her way. She’d worked long and hard on this.

  It had been one way to forget him.

  Carly blinked. Not now. She wasn’t about to sabotage her composure by dragging up memories of Marco. But who was she kidding? Since when had she stopped thinking o
f him?

  “Take a seat, Ms. Mason.” The receptionist motioned Carly toward the plush waiting area. Battling to extinguish the butterfly dance going on in her insides, she concentrated on the clip-clop of the shoes of the woman in front.

  Remember—breathe—in and out, slowly does it. But damn it, why wouldn’t her lungs work?

  Carly took a moment to glance around. Understated and elegant, she mused as her eye for design kicked in. No money had been spared here. Her feet slid over the thick, velvety pile of the dark blue carpet and she wondered what it would be like lying on it, in front of a fireplace.

  With the man you love.

  Stop it! She groaned, and the receptionist darted a look in her direction.

  “Ms. Mason?” a smooth voice intoned. “Chad Burns.”

  Carly rose, sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. This was her show now. She held out a hand. “How do you do?” She shook his hand, but when Chad Burns held her hand longer than necessary, she realized he was a smooth operator.

  He motioned for her to follow him. “The boss will be here in a few minutes.”

  “I thought my meeting was with you.”

  “It is, but the boss wants to oversee everything on this project. It’s his baby, so to speak.”

  Mention of the word baby made Carly falter, but she quickly gathered her wits and followed Chad into the boardroom, her attention drawn immediately to the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  “Spectacular view isn’t it?”

  She nodded, but when he stepped up behind her, the hairs on her neck prickled with a chilling slash of tension. She swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure she liked this man. But then she wasn’t here to like him. She was here to make a deal. “My compliments to the designer,” she said, swiveling around to face the executive.

  “That was the boss.”

  “He designed it?”

  Burns nodded.

  Carly couldn’t help but be surprised. “Then why hire a designer for the hotels? Surely he’d oversee this, too?”

  “Because he’s too busy,” came the sharp retort from behind her.

  Carly froze. That voice. She knew it. Oh, God, how she knew it—every nuance, the delicious timbre of it.