An Act of Persuasion

by Stephanie Doyle

  She swallowed her self-pity and nodded. She needed to put aside her feelings and think only about the baby. It was good he felt attached. This meant he would be involved with the baby and that was important for the child. A child needed parents who loved and wanted it. Nobody understood that more than Anna. After being abandoned by her mother at age six, she’d spent the rest of her life not really mattering to anyone.

  Until she met Ben. As his assistant, she had mattered. Then as his caregiver, she had mattered. Now as the mother of his only child, she really mattered.

  Too bad she didn’t matter to him in the way she wanted to.

  “Okay. So I guess you’ll want to do a visitation thing. We can talk about that. I mean, maybe not in the first few months because I’ll be breast feeding, but after—”

  “Stop,” he said squeezing her hand. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean if you’re happy about this, I’m assuming you’re going to want to see the baby, be part of his or her life.” She could see he was genuinely confused.

  “Of course I’m going to be part of its life. We’re its parents.”

  “Right. We’ll need to work out the details of how that happens.”

  He released her hand and stood again. This time not to pace but to tower over her. “Anna, I don’t think you get it. I’m not talking about some arrangement where we split this child’s time between us.”

  Not letting him intimidate her, she stood, too, and got in his face. “If you think for one second I’m going to let you take my child—”

  He put his hands on her shoulders. “Calm down. Your face is turning is red. I’m not taking the child. You’re not keeping the child. We’re raising the child. Together. Anna, you’re going to marry me.”

  The words hit her in the face like a slap. He wanted her to marry him.

  How completely and totally awful.

  “Oh, hell no.”

  *

  BEN WAS FURIOUS. When he finally pulled into his driveway he turned off the ignition and allowed himself a moment to express his fury by slamming his hand against the steering wheel.

  He’d succeeded only in hurting his hand.

  Her face. The completely and totally horrified look she had on her face when he told her they would marry. He didn’t think he would ever forget it.

  It’s not like he was an ogre. Yes, he’d been sick, but the cancer was in remission and he was getting stronger every day. He still had a very successful business and all the money they could ever need and then some. The Tyler Group was proving to be an infinitely more profitable source of income than the United States government.

  Yet, given her reaction, a person might have concluded that he’d asked her to go to the pits of hell instead.

  “Oh, hell no.”

  The words rattled around in his head. What kind of answer was that? She was carrying his child. Since the moment she’d told him about the baby he’d been unable to think of anything else. Anna and his child. His child. Anna. His.

  Maybe that wasn’t entirely true. He’d also thought about how they created that child. Memories of that night came flooding back. Where once he’d ruthlessly suppressed them, now he didn’t see the point. There was no pretending it hadn’t happened. In six months there would be undeniable proof.

  That night when he’d felt as if his grip on life was slipping, she’d given him a taste of why it was so important to hold on. God, she’d been so sweet. Hot and wet and welcoming. Soft all around him.

  Yet another reason why he would make a suitable husband. Good sex.

  Because it had been good for her. She couldn’t deny that. As clumsy and as urgent as he’d been, he’d still felt her orgasm. Now that he was healthy, he could make it even better for her.

  Moaning, he leaned his head back against the seat and felt his body react to the images in his mind. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten hard since his recovery. No, he’d had a few morning erections, which he considered a good sign that his body was healing.

  Each damn one had been brought on by the memory of that night.

  When he’d thought about seeing her today, when he’d thought about what might happen after he proposed—because his plan had been to propose rather than announce that they were going to marry—he’d thought that maybe that night might happen again.

  The image he’d created was very different from what had actually happened. In his fantasy she was thrilled with the idea of having him as a husband. They would kiss to seal the deal and then she would have taken him to her bedroom where they could formally solidify their status as a couple.

  Ben snorted. Formally solidify their status as a couple?

  Truth was he wanted to screw her brains out.

  He wanted another chance to see her breasts with her soft brown nipples and he wanted to slide into her body knowing that the act that they were doing had created life. Life, when he’d been so close to death.

  It occurred to him that maybe he should have led with that. Maybe he should have told her how special that night was to him. How much he thought about it. How much he thought about repeating it.

  It would shock her, he knew. The way he’d acted after it happened probably made it seem as if it had all been a big mistake he wanted to forget. Not something that impacted their relationship at all.

  He had his reasons certainly. The biggest and most undeniable one was that, at the time, he’d made a decision he knew could cost him his life. He hadn’t wanted her to dispute that decision and he didn’t want her to think of him in any long-term capacity. On the off-chance he actually did die.

  He’d been an ass. And Anna being Anna wasn’t going to tolerate such behavior. No wonder she quit.

  He thought about the weeks he’d spent in quarantine at the hospital. Weeks lying in a sterile room waiting for her to get over what he’d done to her and come see him.

  Only she never came. Not even after she found out she was pregnant.

  Ben considered hitting something again, but he knew it was pointless. Instead he got out of the car and stood still for a moment as a wave of fatigue washed over him. He’d simply gone to Anna’s house and back, but suddenly he felt as if he’d climbed a mountain.

  Focusing, he pooled his energy and concentrated on getting through the front door. That he could manage. He would not be reduced to crawling there on his hands and knees. Feeling shaky but determined, he took small, even steps until he was at the door, then through it.

  Climbing the steps to his bedroom was beyond him, but the couch in his office was waiting for him. Making his way down the hall, he thought only of the end result. Himself lying prone. The couch was like a beacon calling him to it. He slid the door to his office open and with only a few final steps, collapsed onto the comfortable cushions.

  Toeing off his shoes he lay down and accepted the fact that his body required regular rest. To this day he would not refer to the process of restoring his energy as a nap. Instead he referred to it merely as recovery time. And today, after facing Anna and the certain knowledge that last night hadn’t been a dream and she really was going to have his baby, he figured he was entitled to a longer recovery time.

  Yes, he thought as his eyes closed and he could feel his body relax, he certainly would need to be at full strength before their next encounter. Anna was no pushover. And given her obvious reluctance to his idea that they should be married, he would have to try another stratagem.

  Because before this was all over she was going to be his wife.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MARK SHARPE GLANCED up at the sound of the office door opening. He’d taken a small but expensive two-room office in Liberty One, Philadelphia’s second-tallest building since the completion of the Comcast building. With the glass wall between his office and his assistant’s desk, he could see and hear everything in the space he occupied, which soothed his always alert senses.

  As a former CIA agent, there were some habits he knew he would never be able to break and being co
mpletely aware of his surroundings at all times was one of them.

  Anna walked in and set her purse on her desk. Her shoulders were slumped, her face was pale and there were circles under her eyes. She wore a particularly cheerful sundress that did nothing to alter the impression that she wasn’t a happy person.

  Damn Ben. Mark had expected more from him.

  Pushing away from his desk he walked out to greet her.

  “So how did the big reveal go?” he asked.

  She’d told him on Friday about the party for her former coworker, and her intention to come clean with Ben. Looking at her face, Mark was pretty certain he knew the answer. Ben might have been a brilliant spy, but when it came to interpersonal relationships, the guy was a wash.

  Mark had known Anna now for only eight weeks, and known about the pregnancy that whole time. She was probably the only woman alive who would announce during an interview that she was pregnant—it wouldn’t occur to her to keep that fact a secret until after she landed the job. Not that it mattered. His goal was to have Anna working for him, pregnant or not.

  In those eight weeks he’d never once seen her look so…depleted. Even with the morning sickness there was always a vibrancy about her that never waned.

  At least not until today.

  “He wants to marry me.”

  Huh. Okay, maybe Ben had come up to snuff. That proposal wasn’t completely unexpected. Ben had always been a do-the-right-thing kind of a guy and when you knocked up a girl, the right thing was to propose.

  It’s what Mark had done all those years ago. He would always be thankful Helen had the foresight to not take him up on his offer.

  Helen. It was an ache that still hurt when he thought of her. The girl he’d known was now dead and, although she never would have believed he was capable of it, he grieved for her. Deeply.

  With a huff, Anna slumped in her chair. “Can you believe he did that?”

  “Yes. You know Ben. What did you think he was going to do?”

  “The right thing by the kid.”

  “But not the right thing by you?”

  She scowled at him. “What is this? The nineteen hundreds? Do I look like I can’t handle this on my own?”

  Immediately, he backed off. After all, it wasn’t exactly like he was on Ben’s side in this situation. The man had been Mark’s rival for more years than he cared to admit. The aggravating part of the rivalry was that he didn’t think Ben reciprocated it.

  And why should he? The man had always been one step ahead of him. Mark used Ben as a benchmark as he made his climb up the ladder within the ranks of the agency. Mark pushed himself as hard as he could to catch up to the man who had beaten him into the service by three years.

  Only, he never did. Somehow Ben was always a grade higher and always a step ahead on the job. So like any man embittered with constant defeat at the hands of a self-appointed rival, Mark competed in the one area where he knew he could get even—seduction.

  If Ben was interested in a woman, that woman became Mark’s next conquest. And he was sure to beat Ben every time. The man was atrocious at the art of seducing a woman. The concept of flirting was no doubt alien to him.

  Yet, while Ben’s interest in a particular member of the fairer might have been piqued from time to time—enough for him to even pursue a sexual relationship—it never held for long.

  So, really, what did it matter that Mark repeatedly got the girl when he knew Ben never really cared one way or the other.

  Except not this girl, Mark thought, looking at Anna. She meant something to Ben. Strange, because he would have thought she was way too young for Ben. He had to be nearing forty-five and Anna was only twenty-eight. But Mark could see she was older than her years—no doubt the effect of having been abandoned then spending most of her childhood in various foster homes. She would probably be annoyed that he knew her history since it wasn’t something she’d offered up during her interview, but collecting information on people was simply his nature.

  He hadn’t yet managed to discover exactly what had happened between her and Ben. Something obviously had—the woman was pregnant, after all. But that something should have been an absolute showstopper for Ben. The guy had always avoided any personal connection with people who worked for him.

  Mark spent years in various assignments reporting to Ben and watching female agent after female agent try to engage him in a sexual relationship. Some, Mark imagined, did so because they were actually attracted to Ben. More did so because they thought sleeping with a spymaster was a pretty cool notch to have in their belt. And every single one of them did so because Ben was a big fat walking challenge.

  But he didn’t mess around with agents assigned to him. Period. It was a rule he’d never broken, as far as Mark knew.

  Only he’d broken it with Anna in a hell of a big way. Maybe it had to do with the whole almost-dying thing. But it was hard to imagine Ben reacting to death that way. Not when Mark had seen Ben, on more than one occasion, confront it head-on. The man was fearless. Mark didn’t see cancer changing that.

  Someday he would get the story from Anna. Ferreting information from reluctant sources was a particular gift of his. Given that she was his employee, he had all the time in the world to work on her. Eventually she would cave.

  Of course, as soon as Ben found out that Mark was in Philadelphia and that she was working for him things were going to get a lot more interesting.

  Ben might suspect Mark was up to his old tricks and had moved here solely for the purpose of continuing the competition. My business against yours, let’s see who can make the most money kind of a thing.

  Maybe that was true to a certain extent. Mark still liked to needle Ben any time he had a chance. Plus aspiring to Ben’s level of success was great professional motivation. Mark had done his due diligence as soon as he arrived. He knew what the Tyler Group was, knew Ben’s reputation around town and had pretty extensive background information on every single person working for the Group. It was only natural. Two former clandestine operators living in the same city, hell yes they were going to know what the other was up to. It was simply how they were programmed.

  And when Mark’s routine searches into Ben’s employees turned up a résumé on a job search site from one Anna Summers, he knew he’d hit pay dirt. The ultimate steal. Anna wasn’t just some woman Ben showed interest in, she had been his trusted assistant for six years. Six years. As far as Mark knew this was the most committed and long-term relationship Ben had ever had with a woman besides his mother.

  But as intriguing as competing with Ben in the private sector might be, the reality was Mark had much more personal reasons for making Philadelphia his home.

  Helen’s death had decided everything.

  “He knows I’m working for you.” Anna’s announcement brought Mark back to the present.

  He grimaced, recognizing how futile the hope to keep his presence in the city under wraps awhile longer had been. “How did he find out?”

  “I told him.” She said it as if she didn’t understand why he might care.

  It figured Anna would confess. She was too bone-deep loyal to not be up front with the fact that she was working for the man who confessed to be Ben’s competition. Mark had liked having the upper hand for a time, had liked being in the city covertly, but now that was over.

  Since hanging up his private investigator shingle, Mark had solved a few small-profile cases, but nothing that would have registered enough attention to attract Ben’s notice. Now that notice would be notched up to full-alert mode. “I’ll go out on a limb and say he wasn’t happy to learn you’re working for me.”

  One didn’t need to be a good detective to know how Ben would react to the news that Anna was now in Mark’s clutches…employment.

  “Correct. He insisted I quit and said you were dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” It was silly, but the idea that Ben considered him enough of a threat to call him dangerous was flattering. Someday, Mark w
ould really need to let Ben know what their rivalry was all about. Then he would see that Mark wasn’t the enemy. Mark actually respected the hell out of his old section chief. Ben was the guy Mark wanted to be when he grew up. If he ever did.

  But he didn’t plan on sharing that information anytime soon. At least not until after he’d watched Ben go crazy with the idea that Anna worked for Mark.

  “This was yesterday?” he asked.

  “No, the night before at the party.”

  Surprising, he hadn’t already heard from Ben. Maybe because he had a few other things on his mind right now. Like being told he was about to become a daddy. It was enough to shake any man up.

  Which meant he’d seek out Mark today.

  Home or workplace?

  Workplace, Mark concluded. Kept things less personal.

  During the day or after work?

  After work. After Anna had left because Ben wouldn’t want her to see him confronting Mark directly. Hell, Ben was probably scouting the building now.

  First he would figure out where Mark had rented office space. Child’s play for a professional of Ben’s caliber. Then he would locate the building and determine the layout of the parking garage. Posing as someone interested in renting an office, he would ask at the security desk in the lobby if parking spaces were reserved for leaseholders or open to the general public.

  He would learn that only a few select spots were marked for the executives in some of the higher-rent offices. Which meant he would spend some time finding Anna’s car amongst the five parking levels beneath the building. Once he found it, he would tag it with an electronic device to monitor her movements and alert him when she’d left the building. Or, if performing such an act as a civilian left him feeling squeamish with guilt, Ben would simply locate a discreet place from which he could watch her car unseen and wait for her to drive away.

  He would—correctly—assume that Mark would remain in his office after normal business hours, because he knew the only thing Mark ever cared about was his job and he dedicated nearly every waking moment to it. Starting a new business would only make his work ethic even more stringent.