Baby's First Christmas

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Baby's First Christmas Page 9

by Marie Ferrarella


  She would have wanted to hug the moment, the word, to her as a compliment. But that was probably exactly what Sullivan wanted her to do, to be overwhelmed by him until she agreed to anything that he suggested.

  No way, Jose.

  She tossed her head, her eyes defiant. A small pin fell from her hair, followed by a curl. Bravado was the only way to handle this. She had to speak sharply, and hope to hell that he didn’t notice that she was trembling.

  “You look surprised. Didn’t you think pregnant women could kiss?”

  He didn’t know what he thought. He had thought he knew, but now…he would have had to pause before correctly reciting his name and social security number.

  Sullivan ran his hands along her arms. The velvet sleeves felt sensual against his palms.

  Her eyes pinned him in place. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  She was probably right. It instantly complicated the situation. But talking about the pros and cons wasn’t going to change the fact that it had happened.

  “Moot point.”

  What wasn’t moot was that he wanted to do it again. He toyed with the temptation, then for his sake as much as hers he stepped back. But one nagging thought wouldn’t fade. A woman who could kiss like that, who had that much pent-up sexuality within her, didn’t seem like the type who would allow herself to be artificially inseminated.

  His eyes skimmed over the outline of her body. “Why?”

  She knew exactly what he was asking. Maybe because it had been on her mind as well, all these months, a secret regret not to have created this life within her by the standard methods.

  “My business, remember?”

  He toyed with the curl that had come loose and saw her eyes widen even as she moved her head back. Funny how such an innocent thing could stir him. He generally didn’t fantasize about women he couldn’t have. He wasn’t the type to pin his hopes to anything.

  “As I see it,” he said, leaning back against his car, “you’ve got a great deal to offer.” He saw her annoyance mounting at his presumption. It amused him. “I suppose you were in between gentlemen callers.”

  It sounded like a line from a Tennessee Williams play. Did he lump her into the category of repressed, dried-up women?

  “You might say that,” she answered coldly.

  He brushed his fingers against her cheek. The diamonds at her ear winked flirtatiously at him. “Might? And what could I say for certain?”

  Marlene edged away from him. Her back came flush against the door. She stood her ground. “That you have a hell of a lot of nerve.”

  Sullivan maintained a mild tone, his voice soothing. “It’s important in my line of work.” Though he’d agreed that it wasn’t any of his business, something urged him on. He had to know. “Why isn’t there anyone in your life, Marlene?”

  She suddenly felt very weary again. She pulled her jacket up around her throat to ward off the wind. Why hadn’t she noticed how cold it was before?

  Slender shoulders lifted and fell beneath velvet in answer to his question. “Things don’t always work out the way you want them to. I haven’t had time to build relationships.”

  So she had alluded. He still found that difficult to believe. He was alone, but that was by choice. He’d never met anyone who could really matter for more than a few nights. But that was his story. Hers, he had a feeling, was a different one. One, he found, that was beginning to intrigue him.

  “Ever?”

  She sighed, looking past his head into the darkness. “There was a guy when I first began college. I thought things might turn out for us.”

  Her voice trailed off as she remembered Ted. Her words fell carelessly. “There was some groping, some enduring, and I found it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.” She shrugged. “It wasn’t worth the effort.”

  He had a feeling there was more, but he didn’t probe. As she’d said, it was none of his business. He had to remember that.

  The feel of her lips hummed on his own. “You just met the wrong man,” he muttered. He wanted to hold her, but he made no move toward her.

  And was Travis going to try to convince her that he was the right one? She thought not. “Well, I won’t say that this hasn’t been interesting, but I do have an early morning.”

  He could respect her dedication and sense of responsibility. He could identify with those qualities. It was everything else he was having difficulty identifying with. He’d gotten too close with the kiss. Much too close and too intrigued. A little curiosity was a good thing. Too much clouded the other issues.

  “We haven’t resolved anything,” Sullivan suddenly remembered.

  “That all depends on how you look at it. As far as I’m concerned, it’s all resolved.” Her eyes narrowed as she placed her hand over her abdomen. “Possession, Travis, is nine-tenths of the law, and in case you haven’t noticed, I have possession.”

  Sullivan inclined his head in acknowledgment. “I’ve noticed.”

  He stepped back and allowed her room to open her car door. Marlene slid in behind the steering wheel. He thought of how uncomfortable that had to be for her as he closed the door.

  Sullivan pressed his lips together. There was no way anything would get settled tonight. But there was always tomorrow. “You still have my card?”

  “Taped over my heart.” Before he could say anything else, she revved up the motor and pulled away.

  That had been a mistake, she thought. A gross, impulsive mistake. She should have gone with her first instinct and immediately pushed him away, not let the kiss flower.

  Without thinking, she ran her tongue over her lips. His taste was still there, tart and tantalizing. Her heart fluttered, skipping a beat. Restless, Marlene dragged her hand through her hair. The remaining pins came loose, scattering like metal leaves. She had absolutely no idea what had come over her, why she had allowed him to kiss her.

  Why she had wanted it.

  No, she amended, taking a sharp turn. That wasn’t true. She knew exactly why she had allowed it. Because she had wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

  Marlene blew out a long breath. That still didn’t excuse what had happened.

  She was still upbraiding herself when she returned home. The feel of his mouth haunted her all the way into the house. It would probably haunt her, she thought darkly, all night.

  Marlene frowned, slowly making her way up the stairs. It felt as if she were dragging a ten-pound sack with her.

  Or rather a twenty-five-pound sack, she corrected herself, remembering the numbers from the last weigh-in. God, those weigh-ins were depressing. But then, she had known what she was in for when she had signed on for this.

  Or believed she had known. She thought of Sullivan, a cryptic smile flittering over her lips.

  The door at the top of the stairs cracked open just as Marlene reached the landing. Sally, her compact, bony frame swathed in a turquoise terry cloth robe, peered out into the hallway. She glanced at her wristwatch as if she hadn’t been marking time since Marlene had walked out the door.

  “You’re back late.” There was surprise in her voice, if not on her face. “Good party?”

  Marlene attempted to get her feelings under control. Her nerves continued humming. She shrugged. “It was all right.”

  She thought of ending the conversation at that, then changed her mind. “I ran into Sullivan Travis.”

  Sally’s face puckered into a deep frown. “With the car, I hope.”

  Marlene laughed. Maybe that would have been the better way to go. “No, at the party.”

  Sally stifled a yawn, but duty came first. “Need anything?”

  Yes, answers. To so many questions. But nothing you can help me with, Sally. Marlene shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

  Sally seemed grateful to hear that. Shuffling back, she withdrew into her room.

  “See you in the morning.” She shoved her hands into her robe, then stopped as her fingers came in contact with paper. “Oh, I almost f
orgot. This must have fallen behind the table in the foyer when I brought the mail in. It’s got yesterday’s postmark, so I must have dropped it today.” She produced an official looking envelope.

  Junk mail, Marlene thought as she accepted it. The return address sprang up at her. The letter was from the Travis Corporation. With a feeling of dread, she tore it open and quickly scanned the single sheet of paper.

  “Anything?” Sally asked.

  “The slimy bastard,” Marlene declared, crumpling the letter in her hand. She envisioned it being Sullivan’s neck. “The lousy, seductive, slimy bastard.”

  “Seductive? What do you mean seductive?” Sally demanded.

  But Marlene didn’t hear her. “To think I actually thought we could be friends.”

  “Friends don’t describe each other as being seductive.” Sally tugged on her arm, trying to get her attention. “What are you talking about?”

  Marlene suddenly realized that Sally was still there and talking to her. The woman’s questions played themselves back belatedly in her mind.

  There was no way she was going to go into detail. “I’m talking about a mistake.”

  Sally tried to read between the lines. “Yours?”

  “His. He just made a fatal one.” Marlene brandished the letter in front of her. “His lawyer just officially put me on notice that I have an obligation to turn custody of my baby over to the Travises. That he hopes I’ll be ‘sensible’ so that this can be resolved calmly.” How could he have kissed her, knowing that this was on its way? “I saw him all evening, he never once gave me a clue that he had put his lawyer on the job—”

  “Did you give him the chance?”

  Sally’s question had her pulling up short. No, she hadn’t allowed Travis to discuss it. But that was no excuse. “That doesn’t matter. He should have told me before—”

  “Before what?”

  The words came out before she thought them through. “Before he kissed me.”

  Sally’s mouth dropped open. Recovering, she shook her head. “Hope you’ve had all your shots.”

  Too late for that, a small voice whispered.

  Marlene’s reply to Sally, the voice and Sullivan was to slam her bedroom door.

  She couldn’t sleep.

  What was left of the night stretched out before her like a vast, darkened desert. She spent it in fitful naps, grabbing snatches of sleep and feeling the worse for it.

  By morning she knew she looked like hell. She certainly felt like it.

  And it was his fault, she thought angrily as she hurried into her clothes, getting ready for work. All his damn fault. She would see him in hell before she would see him with her child. And she was going to make him pay for last night. Pay for it dearly. As soon as it was humanly possible.

  Dressed, Marlene hurried down the stairs. Outside, one of the worst storms of the decade was taking shape. Rain was coming down, striking the tiled roof in angry, rhythmic staccato beats. She envisioned it as fists, beating on Sullivan’s body. It helped calm her down. A little.

  Sally met her in the hallway and silently pointed toward the kitchen. Marlene ignored her. She was running late as it was. Something else she could blame that bastard for.

  “It’s raining. Stay home,” Sally urged gruffly.

  “It’s the rainy season, Sally,” Marlene reminded her. “It’s supposed to be raining.”

  “You should still stay home.”

  Marlene checked her briefcase for her address book. “I can’t kill Sullivan Travis if I’m home.”

  Sally nodded, smiling. “You have a point. Then you’re not going to the office?”

  She had three meetings today. There was still a lot to do before she went on maternity leave. “First business, then pleasure,” Marlene told her.

  Slipping on a raincoat, Marlene entered the garage through the rear of the family room. She threw her things over to the passenger seat and got in behind the wheel, her resolution clear. She was going to call Travis as soon as she got a free moment today and give him hell.

  There were no free moments. Like a colorful paper chain forged by a determined child, one moment linked into another and another, leaving no spaces. And absolutely no time.

  Normally, Marlene would have enjoyed the hectic pace. She was at her best under pressure, where free minutes were as scarce as oxygen in space. But not today. Today she just wanted to tell Travis what she thought of him. And she couldn’t.

  One of the clients she had spoken to the night before called just before her early morning meeting. Enthused by an idea she had suggested, he was requesting an immediate get-together. He wanted to work her idea into his advertising campaign in time for Christmas. It gave her a salvo of triumph, which she had two and a half minutes to savor, before she had to hurry to the meeting.

  Which ran over.

  By the time Marlene was finally sitting behind her desk, with no more meetings scheduled for the day and no telephone ringing, demanding her attention, the world had turned completely dark outside her window. In the distance she saw the palm trees in the parking lot swaying and bending at an alarming angle. The storm that had been promised was settling in.

  She’d given her employees the opportunity to leave early and most of them had. Flash flood warnings were out for Malibu and the canyon roads. It promised to be a grim evening before the storm moved on.

  She was about to get her things together when the telephone buzzed. She picked up the receiver.

  “Wanda? I thought you’d left.”

  “Just going,” her secretary told her, “and you should, too. But there’s a Mr. Geodano on line one. Said Sullivan Travis told him to call you regarding a new advertising campaign he’d been considering.”

  Talk about dirty pool. He was playing both sides against the middle. Strong-arming her on one side, playing up to her on the other. Well, it wasn’t going to work, even though the Geodano account was a lucrative one.

  “Tell him I’ve already left for the day, Wanda. Then get yourself to high ground.”

  “I’m already on my way.”

  The wind was howling mournfully as Marlene got into her car. Common sense dictated that she go straight home before the roads became impassable, but first she had one stop to make.

  Travis’s office was on her way home. Not exactly in the direct path, but it only required a minor detour. It seemed a small price to pay for the satisfaction of telling him to go to hell in person.

  The weasel. And to think for a moment she had actually been carried away last night when he’d kissed her. Obviously the letter of intent had reached her before he’d had a chance to undermine her even further.

  She felt a hard twinge in her stomach. It wasn’t the first time today. There had been strange, tingling sensations running over the lower portion of her body on tiny, spiked heels.

  Another three weeks of this, she thought with a tired sigh. God, there were times she doubted that she was going to make it.

  Marlene rubbed her hand along her neck. Another twinge, harder this time, rippled through her body. She bit back a moan, succeeding only partially.

  The baby shifted again, moving over organs that felt as if they would never be the same. For the last week or so, Marlene had felt as if she were ready to push him or her out. Especially today. But her due date was still weeks away. Christmas Eve.

  An eternity away.

  The rain continued to lash at her windshield. She felt isolated. Tonight that bothered her. To keep herself company, she switched on the radio. A broadcaster came on. More reports of roads that were out.

  The voice on the radio faded into the background. There was a rushing noise in her ears, blocking it out. She shook her head, trying to clear it. Maybe she had better just go home and…

  No, she wanted to have this out. She knew she would get no rest tonight if she let it go another day. She wanted to tell Travis exactly what she thought of him—and that she intended to get a restraining order to keep him away from her.

>   Another kick had her wincing. She curved her hand over the swell beneath her tailored suit and looked down.

  “You’re going to be an active one, aren’t you?” she murmured. In reply, she felt another kick. Her body seemed to contract in response. “Try to go easy on me,” she whispered. “I’m new at all this.”

  Very new, she thought ruefully. She hadn’t even played with baby dolls as a child. There had been no desire to play house with her brother or sister, no crying need to have dolls to dress up and pretend to nurture. There had never even been a hint in her childhood that she would wake up one morning with this incredible pull within her. A pull to hold a child of her own in her arms. An overwhelming desire to have a tiny being in her life to love and nurture.

  It had taken form a little more than a year ago, beginning as a small, nagging thought. It had followed her like a persistent tiny pebble in the bottom of her shoe.

  The pebble had grown into a boulder when her father died.

  The windshield wipers struggled to give her a small measure of visibility. She squinted, turning up the defroster on her dashboard. After she told Travis where he could put his threat, she was going to go home and reward herself with a nice, warm cup of tea.

  God, but she felt chilled.

  Only a little farther to Travis’s office. She wondered what the penalty was for justifiable homicide in this state and if her pregnancy would make any difference to the jurors.

  Once inside the building, Marlene found her way easily enough. Sullivan’s office was located on the seventh floor. When she got off the elevator, the area looked as deserted as her own office building had when she’d left. She sincerely hoped Travis hadn’t gone home. If he had, she would track him down. She wanted to have it out with him while her anger was ripe and her strength lasted. There was no denying that she was feeling very odd.

  There was no secretary sitting before his office door. The computer on the desk was covered, indicating that she had left for the night.

  Good, no witnesses.

  Marlene barged in.

 

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