Her shoulders sagged, her eyes softening. “I do not want you dead.”
“Then how exactly do you want me?” He stepped closer, his eyes falling to her mouth, to her full lips. Amie McNair had a way of knocking the props out from under him by just walking into a room, and he was damn tired of tap dancing around the subject. He was too old for games.
The fireworks on the lawn churned faster, shot after shot popping and exploding, sending showers of sparks into the night sky. The fireworks reflected in Amie’s eyes as she stepped back, expression iced over again. “If we’re going to be away for a week, I should start packing.”
Turning, she marched across the grass, her beautiful body illuminated by white lights in the sky that turned on and off, on and off.
Just like Amie herself.
* * *
Amie was exhausted to her toes. Not just from the wedding but from the shocking talk with her grandmother to the confrontation with Preston.
She was truly going to spend a week alone with him.
Closing her bedroom door, she finally let her guard down. Kneeling, she held out her hands for her cats, a gray tabby in her lap, a Siamese at her feet, both hers, and Mariah’s two Persians as well. Yes, she was just shy of a crazy-cat-lady starter kit, but her furbabies brought her comfort. With a final stroke along each feline’s arched back, she stood. She’d loved growing up on a farm with animals all around, even if her room was far from rustic, a jewel box of a space, from the strands of multicolored glass beads around her bed, to the stained-glass insets in the high windows above her reading area.
Walking out of her shoes, she reached behind her to unzip the bridesmaid’s dress. She shimmied it down and kicked it aside. She sagged to sit on the edge of her bed. She flopped back on the bed, the silk of her camisole and tap pants soft against her skin still tingling from Preston’s touch. Damn it, she hated losing her composure. And to lose it twice in one night?
Her hand slid over her stomach. No baby bump yet, but soon more than just her breasts would be swelling. And her hormones were out of control, leaving her tearful most of the time and nauseated the rest of the time. Her figure would soon be evident to everyone. No more pageant jokes about her size.
She’d been the first runner-up in the Miss Texas pageant over a decade ago, reportedly the first beauty competition she’d lost since her mother had teased up her hair and sent Amie tap-dancing out on the stage at four years old. She’d “Good Ship Lollipopped” her way through puberty into bikinis and spray tans. Her mama had lived for her daughter’s wins.
She didn’t even want to think about her parents’ reaction to her pregnancy.
There wasn’t anything she could do about it tonight and she truly was exhausted. No matter how much she slept, her body demanded more. She reached on the bedside table for her mouth guard by the phone. Tension had made her grind her teeth at night since she was seventeen and entered higher-stakes pageants.
She’d already seen a doctor to confirm and start prenatal vitamins. The appointment had been scary and exciting at the same time. Preston deserved the opportunity to be a part of his child’s life from the start—if he wanted. She would have to tell him about the baby this week. It wasn’t fair to wait any longer. This was his child too. She would just have to find the right time. His reaction would also have a lot to do with how she presented the news to the rest of her family.
If only she knew him better, knew how he would react, how he would want to proceed. She was capable and prepared to take care of the baby herself. But she didn’t want her child to live with a father’s rejection.
She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in her pillow, wishing she could will herself to sleep faster.
The phone rang on her bedside table, jarring her. Was something wrong with her grandmother?
Flinging back the covers, she grabbed the receiver and pulled out her mouth guard. “Hello?”
“Amie?” her twin brother’s voice filled her ear. “Are you okay?”
“Of course.” She tugged the covers back up again. “Why do you ask?”
“You left the reception before it was over. That isn’t like you.”
They always had been in tune with each other’s moods. Her brother wasn’t normally a chatty person, so for him to call, he must sense something was up. But she wasn’t ready to tell him. It wouldn’t be fair to tell anyone before Preston.
“Gran was tired, so I took her back to her room, then I decided to slip out. I did see the fireworks display though. It was a beautiful touch.” No way was she telling him about Gran’s test. He would worry, wonder—question. “I hope you don’t mind that I left the hosting duties to you.”
“Of course I don’t mind. We’re family. You’ve been carrying more than your fair share of the McNair face time for Hidden Gem business this past year. The reception was winding down by the time you left. Mother and Father were in their element entertaining anyway.”
“They do like to play the head-of-the-family role.”
Their parents lived off a trust fund, tightly managed by Gran’s lawyers. Their cousin Stone’s mother also lived off her trust fund, working to stay clean after multiple stints in drug rehab. Leaving the bulk of her estate to her grandchildren was a huge vote of confidence from Gran that Amie didn’t take lightly. Her grandmother’s respect meant everything to her.
Amie was determined to do better by her own child than her stage mom, Bayleigh. Without question, Mariah was the better role model.
Amie tucked the phone more securely under her neck. “Was there anything else?”
“What was up with you and Armstrong on the dance floor? Any progress getting along better with the new boss? He’s really not such a bad guy. We had a good time playing cards at the bachelor party.”
“Have you been talking to Gran?” she asked suspiciously.
“No, I just got to know him better with all the wedding parties this week. We talked some.”
“Talked about what?”
He laughed softly. “You sound nervous.”
The twin bond was sure a pain in the butt sometimes. “I’m not nervous. I’m just exhausted.” Really exhausted. She’d never been as tired in her life as she’d been the past few weeks. “Good night, Alex. Love you.” She hung up the phone and resisted the urge to pull the covers over her head.
Someone was going to guess soon and her secret would be out. She needed to control the telling.
* * *
Sunday morning, Preston waited beside the limo, outside the Hidden Gem Ranch. It wasn’t like Amie to be late. Ever. She was always one of the first at work and last to leave. But she’d kept him out here hanging around for over twenty minutes.
He definitely wasn’t accustomed to anyone making him wait. Maybe she was playing a mind game?
The door to her quarters opened and she backed out onto the veranda, her curvy bottom wriggling as she juggled her purse and some kind of bag. Turning, she faced him and started forward, wearing turquoise high heels, pencil jeans and a flowy white shirt with multiple strands of signature McNair necklaces. The long loops of her necklaces drew his eyes down her body, hinting at the curves that lay beneath the shirt.
As always, he braced for the fact she damn near took his breath away.
His eyes fell to the little pink leopard-print carrier that wobbled back and forth to the side as something fuzzy and shadowy moved around inside. He frowned. “I thought you said you were packing clothes? Not livestock.”
Stopping in front of him, she lifted up the frilly carrier. “Clearly this isn’t large enough for a horse. I sent my bags ahead to the airport. This is one of my carry-ons. It may come as a surprise to you, but I do not travel light.”
He opened the limo door for her. “You’re one of those types that takes a cute little dog everywhere.”
“Don’t let my cat hear you call him a dog. He hates that.” She slid into the long leather seat.
“You travel with a cat?” He dropped into the seat across from her and stared at the carrier beside her. This woman never failed to surprise him in every way possible.
“Are you saying cats miss their humans less than dogs?”
“No—” he chose his words carefully “—cats are more independent. More easily left on their own.”
“Well, I won’t be leaving this one.” Her chin tipped. “If you have a problem with that, you can be the one to call off the trip.” She flashed a thin smile at him. “Could you possibly be allergic?”
Was that her plan? To get him to bail? It would take a lot more than a feline to make that happen. Still, he couldn’t help digging. “I am not allergic to cats—or dogs, for that matter. But surely someone on the staff can handle that. You have other pets.”
“This one is special.” She unzipped the top and the fluffy Siamese’s head popped out. The cat yawned and stared at Preston with blue eyes just as intense as Amie’s. “He’s old and has diabetes. He needs his injections.”
Guilt kinked his neck. “I’m sorry for leaping to conclusions.” He shook his head. “But I have to confess, I still don’t get it. You have the money for fancy pet sitting, including injections. So you need his company? Don’t you have two or three other or a dozen other cats? There are varying accounts around the office of how many. How did you pick which one to bring?”
“Four. Just four,” she said tightly. “My other three cats are staying with Gran. But I only trust Johanna with this one since she’s a vet tech, and as you know, she is on her honeymoon. Other than her, there’s no one I trust to administer the medication who’s also familiar to Roscoe—”
“Roscoe? I thought your family named all people and animals after gems.” Her brother was actually Alexandrite and she was Amethyst. Even their horses had gemstone names.
“My grandmother and my parents did that with the names. I don’t. Trust me, learning to write Amethyst in preschool wasn’t easy. So, this is Roscoe. It fits.” She smoothed a hand over his head. “I know I could hire some high-end pet sitter for him, but his diabetes gets worse when he’s stressed, and when he misses me, he stresses.”
“We can’t have that happening.” He scratched a furry ear and the cat erupted into a low, humming purr.
“This is not a joke,” she snapped, hugging the carrier closer. “I couldn’t bear it if he passed away while I was gone. I’m important to him and he’s important to me.”
He rested his hand on her knee. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m just wondering if the cat is going to need jewelry for the galas too.”
“Ha-ha. I’m not taking him to work with me.” Her gaze flicked to his hand and she chewed her bottom lip. “Just traveling and keeping him in my suite.”
“You genuinely seem to care.” And that made her all the more attractive somehow.
“I do.” She lifted his hand from her knee, but the flush on her neck showed she wasn’t unaffected. “Now, can we get going? The plane is waiting.”
He let the air crackle between them for an instant before signaling the driver. It was going to be an interesting—and tempting—week.
Three
Amie buckled her cat’s carrier into the seat beside her on the luxury jet, larger than the McNair family’s plane, with more space for the lengthy travel planned for the week. Plush leather seats. A semicircular sofa around a dining table, with a galley kitchen off to the side. Even a small shower and sleeping area curtained off.
Other than a pilot behind the bulkhead wall, she was alone with Preston for all of the flights. Day and night. She sagged back in the leather recliner, the sounds of Preston across the row tempting her to look. Just sitting in the limo with him had been tempting. That’s why she had strengthened her defenses. She had to. What would this week—even the past two months—have been like if she wasn’t pregnant? Would she have eventually fallen under the spell of the sexy, brooding CEO in spite of the fact he ran the company she’d once hoped to head?
Unlikely once the pink slips had started being handed out to employees. Sure, he was getting results, but she still wasn’t convinced his way was the best way. Maybe she could use this week to find out his future plans for the company. And if they involved more of his hatchet style of leadership? She hoped to persuade him to find a compromise that didn’t gut the heart of the family business.
She jammed earbuds in to prevent further conversation and closed her eyes against the morning nausea. She felt Preston settle in his seat. Instinctively, she reached for the volume control, pressed the button and tried to lose herself in the music. Anything to dull her interest in the man sitting across from her. She kept her eyes shut, and tried her best to relax her jaw. To be natural and unconcerned even though her nerves were raw.
This was really happening. She’d wondered how she would tell him about the baby and now it was clear that conversation would have to happen this week. At the end of their travels, because if she told him sooner, the rest of the trip would be impossible to withstand. She had to use this time to find common ground, a peace of sorts before telling the rest of the family.
Easier said than done.
He was an arrogant man. A fair boss, but distant. Cool. She wanted and needed more in her life. She’d been left with no choice in her distant parents. But she’d seen her grandparents’ marriage and the way they loved their family unconditionally. She would settle for nothing less for herself or her child.
The plane taxied and took off smoothly. Amie thought she might just get away with listening to her favorite folk music all the way until lunch. And if he lost himself in work, maybe she could pull out some of her own sketches for the collection she hadn’t shared with anyone else. Ideas were buzzing in her head for the snake-themed coils she’d designed, the patterns of their markings inspiring interlocking pieces for multicolored chains in precious metal. They were more urban and sophisticated than the rustic luxury items that were the company cornerstone, potential crossover items into a younger, more international market while staying true to her roots.
She hadn’t shared them because what if they ventured too far off the mark? Weren’t as good as she hoped? She didn’t think she’d get sacked for stepping outside the design aesthetic, although with Preston at the helm...who knew? Her bigger concern was that she’d spent time designing pieces that would never be made. The artist in her mourned that.
Then she felt a gentle tug on an earbud. A sideways glance revealed Preston with the earpiece dangling between his fingers.
His face was open, receptive. “Now that we’re settled for the trip, do you want to tell me why you’ve gone out of your way to ignore me since that night in the coat closet?”
Leave it to a man—and a billionaire CEO at that—to be direct.
“We work together. It isn’t wise to pursue a personal relationship.” The sight of him in a black suit and leather cowboy boots threatened to take her breath away even now. She had continued to want him over the past two months. That was part of the problem.
All that male arrogance and remorseless reorganization hadn’t done nearly enough to make her body stop wanting him.
“Amie, clearly we have to find a less antagonistic way to be in the same room.” He draped the earbud over her armrest, just a hairsbreadth away from her arm. “I assume that’s why your grandmother sent us on this outing, to keep drama out of the workplace.”
“Drama?” She plucked the other earbud out and resisted the urge to toss something at his head. “Are you calling me a drama queen? I am a professional in every way at the office. You’re the one who thinks I’m plotting your death.”
“Okay, we’ve agreed you don’t want to tie concrete blocks to my ankles and throw me in the Trinity River, but you
’re still a professional dripping ice every time I walk into the room.” He leaned on his armrest, coming closer and pinning her with a laser gaze. “I wouldn’t put up with this from any employee, male or female, no matter who they’re related to. I find nepotism to be abhorrent, in fact.”
Nepotism? The word seared her. She worked twice as hard as anyone else to prove otherwise and still she couldn’t catch a break. If she didn’t love the family company so much, she would have left long ago. “I apologize if I’ve been less than cordial or in any way taken advantage of my family connections.”
“There’s that ice I was talking about. Combined with a beauty pageant answer—carefully worded.”
She smiled tightly, irritated and turned on—and scared. “Well, you’re the one asking for world peace.”
“Just a cease-fire.”
“I want that, too.” She needed it. For their child’s sake. “I’m just not sure how. This probably sounds strange after what we did two months ago, but I really don’t know you.”
The steel in his gaze lightened. He leaned back in his chair, hands crossed over his chest. “Ask me anything you want to know.”
“Anything?” How would you feel about becoming a daddy in seven months? Probably not wise to lead with that one.
“Sure,” he said. “On one condition.”
Damn. She’d known this supposed cease-fire was too good to be true. “I am not sleeping with you again just to find out your favorite color.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” he pointed out. “My condition is simple. For every question you ask, I get to ask one as well. You can even choose who goes first.”
Sounded fair, and as he’d mentioned, all those pageants sure had given her a wealth of practice in dodging sticky questions. “All right, why did you take this job when you were making more money at the sportswear corporation in Oklahoma?”
Pregnant by the Cowboy CEO Page 4