She slid into the driver’s seat, but before she could close the door, he grabbed it. “We’re going to discuss this. Either here, your place or mine. What’s your preference?”
After a few defiant moments, she said, “I live about ten minutes from here.”
“I’ll follow you.”
As Lucas drove away from Barrington, keeping Olivia’s small blue car in sight, his mind spun.
Olivia was pregnant with his child.
She’d never slept with another man.
Over the past month, he’d noticed her spending more and more evenings with Stanley and thought for sure they’d become a couple.
What if she was lying to him? Celeste had lied to him for months, claiming to love him, swearing she’d love to have children. Until he’d finally taken her to his foster parents’ ranch, told her about his background and witnessed firsthand that she didn’t like children any more than she appreciated peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She’d been attracted to his success as much as his elegant town house and small plane, and expected champagne and caviar in her future. Why hadn’t he realized sooner she wasn’t the type of woman who could cope with kids’ messy fingers and skinned knees?
Because he’d wanted his own family too badly to see the truth.
After Celeste, he’d decided if he wanted a family, he could adopt a child on his own. But his desire for Olivia on Christmas Eve had shown him a woman could still arouse passion that he thought had died along with his involvement with Celeste.
Mim and Wyatt, his foster parents, had taught him well—about hard work and values and consequences. But this consequence was one he’d never expected. And he realized Olivia would have no reason to lie to him. If this child were Stanley Whitcomb’s and she loved Whitcomb, she wouldn’t look as if the bottom had dropped out of her world.
Following Olivia into northwest Phoenix, Lucas drove to a modest, green-landscaped apartment complex that was very different from the planned community in Scottsdale where his town house was located. He pulled into a guest space at the reserved parking area and climbed out of the car. They didn’t speak as Olivia showed him to an inside corridor where they mounted a flight of stairs. As she let him into her apartment, he took a quick look around.
Olivia didn’t live in luxury, but her small apartment felt much more homelike than his larger town house. Actually the sky-blue plaid sofa with its many pillows and colorful afghan thrown over its back, the unfinished pine tables and the braided rug gave him the same comfortable feeling as the living room at Mim and Wyatt’s ranch. A white enamel table for two sat at the edge of the living room. Olivia’s kitchen was so small, two people sharing its space would definitely bump shoulders and hips.
But his attention didn’t stray long away from her pale face or her determined green eyes as she said, “I don’t need your help and I don’t want it.”
The desire for Olivia he’d thought he could forget urged him closer to her. “If this is my child, too, I have rights.”
“Rights won’t make you a parent. Rights won’t make you take responsibility. I know how men only assert their rights when it’s convenient for them! And if you don’t even believe this child is yours—”
He clasped her shoulders. “You’ve never slept with Stanley Whitcomb?”
As she went rigid under his hands, her gaze didn’t waver from his. “No. I’ve never slept with Stanley or any other man. And if you don’t believe me...”
Gut instinct along with logic told him she was being honest. “I believe you.”
Suddenly, the family Lucas had always longed for seemed within his grasp. Wasn’t he an expert at taking the unexpected and making it serve his purposes? He’d learned young to make the best of what he had, what he earned, what he took. And sometimes reaching out and taking got him exactly what he wanted.
When he bent to Olivia, she gave a small gasp. With the advantage of surprise on his side, his mouth came down on hers. He didn’t want her to think, just to react, to give him a sign that the idea he’d grasped like an orphan searching for parents wasn’t completely absurd. His tongue thrust into her mouth, looking for passion, asking if Christmas Eve had been an anomaly, praying a dream might be within his reach.
They fused into remembered intimacy for at least a hundred heartbeats, and then Olivia wrenched away.
She looked even more shaken than when she’d made her announcement. Wrapping her arms around herself, she asked, “Why did you do that?”
His composure back in place, his guard hiding the simmering desire, he answered her calmly. “To prove a point. There’s fire between us, Olivia. We discovered it on Christmas Eve, and we’ve kept our distance from it since. I want you to consider marrying me.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m very serious. I was born a bastard. No child of mine will wear that label. I will be a father to this child. That’s my undeniable right. And he or she will be as much my responsibility as yours.”
Her hands fluttered between them. “Lucas, the idea is crazy. We don’t even know each other.”
“Believe me, I know that two parents are better than one, and that an alliance with that fire behind it has a better chance than any romantic illusion you might favor. Think about it”
Her complexion was pale again, and he realized that he’d better back off, not push, and let her consider what he’d said. Crossing to the door, he opened it. “Think about our child, Olivia. Try to put him or her first with any decision you make.”
As Lucas stepped out into the hall, he realized his negotiating skills could help him seal the most critical merger of his life.
Sitting at the cream marble vanity in the lounging area of the ladies’ room at Barrington the next morning, Olivia sipped from a mug of tea. She could have stayed in the break room for a few minutes, but she simply didn’t feel like making conversation with friends when she was trying to decide the best course of action for her life...and her child’s. Lucas’s child.
The door to the ladies’ room opened and Molly Doyle walked across the salmon carpeting to the wicker love seat nearest the vanity. “What’s wrong, Olivia? You don’t usually grab a cup of tea and run.”
“It’s just a busy morning.”
With her straight blond hair flowing along her face, Molly tilted her head. “Busy or not, you used to devour cherry-cheese Danish with the rest of us. But lately...”
Molly was Olivia’s closest friend at Barrington, and she knew she could trust her. She needed someone to confide in. Last night, she’d thought about calling her mother, but she wanted to have her life in better focus before she did. “I’m pregnant.”
Molly didn’t look surprised. “The way you turn green around food, I suspected you were. When are you and Stanley getting married?”
Not only Molly, but the four other women she usually shared lunch and breaks with, knew she hoped to marry her boss someday. Embarrassed and unnerved about what had happened at the company Christmas party, she’d told no one about it. “Lucas Hunter is the father.”
Surprised, but recovering quickly, Molly said, “I heard a rumor that you and Lucas kissed under the mistletoe at the Christmas party. I thought whoever started it must have been mistaken.” After a pensive pause, her friend asked, “What about Stanley?”
“I had hoped Stanley would see me as a woman and an equal after I pass the bar. I had hoped...” She trailed off, wondering why the lost hopes didn’t disturb her as much as the desire in Lucas’s eyes.
“Have you told Lucas?”
“Yesterday.”
“And?” her friend prompted.
“He asked me to marry him, but I don’t think he meant it. How could he? We don’t know each other.”
Molly’s brows raised.
“It was only once,” Olivia said in explanation.
“One time is all it takes. And as for Lucas not meaning his proposal, that doesn’t sound like him. Lucas Hunter impresses me as a man who knows exactly what he’s
doing at all times. And from what I hear, Rex Barrington trusts him implicitly because of that. What did you answer when he proposed?”
“It wasn’t a proposal exactly. More like an offer of a merger. And I didn’t answer him. He told me to think about it.”
“What do you want?”
She remembered Christmas Eve; she relived Lucas’s kiss; she brought to mind words associated with Lucas Hunter, words like stud and loner and master negotiator. He could fly away at a moment’s notice, and his stay at Barrington was rumored to be temporary. “I don’t know what I want. I had my life planned.” She took a deep breath and decided, “I have to think my way out of this.”
Molly patted her arm. “This might not be as simple as solving a problem with logic or fine-tuning a contract. Don’t forget to let yourself feel as well as think.” After checking her watch, she frowned. “I’ve got to get back to advertising. I’ve been having trouble concentrating, and my work is backed up.”
“Jack?” Olivia asked, knowing Molly wished for more than a platonic friendship with her boss.
“I had a dream about him last night. And I find myself sitting at my desk daydreaming—” She stopped. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
Olivia gave her friend a grateful smile. “I’ll be fine. I just have to sort it all out. Thanks for listening.”
“Anytime. You know that.”
As Molly pulled open the door, Olivia stood. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Again Lucas’s face appeared behind her eyelids, his blue gaze challenging her to find the right direction for not only herself, but for their child.
Knowing how to bide his time, when to sweeten the deal and when to stand on a firm line, Lucas carried a box filled with sandwiches and drinks into Whitcomb’s office suite. June saw him first and smiled. Lucas gave a perfunctory nod and headed for Olivia’s desk. When she looked up, he rested the box on the corner.
Stanley came out of his office. “Hi, Lucas. Do we have a meeting I’ve forgotten?”
“No. I came to take Olivia to the courtyard for lunch.”
Stanley appeared as surprised as his secretary who quizzically glanced at Olivia. As did Lucas. The ball was in her court.
Her gaze locked to his, then shifted to Stanley. “Is it convenient for me to leave now?” she asked her boss.
“Sure. And don’t worry about rushing back. You were in here working this morning before any of us.”
When Lucas noticed Olivia’s face flush slightly, he wondered if she always blushed when Whitcomb was close to her. If she was really in love with the man...
But Lucas knew marriage meant more than flowers and spinning dreams. He’d seen Mim and Wyatt weather the years. Marriage wasn’t a fairy tale; it was hard work...with pleasure and good times thrown in, if you were lucky.
He had no doubt he and Olivia could find the pleasure again. Yesterday’s kiss had proven that. Even now, there was a simmering tension zipping between them.
Olivia took her purse from her desk drawer and came around from behind her desk. “I’m ready.”
Once they reached the hall, she said, “You could have warned me.”
“I didn’t want to give you a chance to refuse.”
“If I truly didn’t want to go to lunch with you, I would have refused anyway.”
He chuckled and started walking. “I’ll remember that next time.”
After they took the elevator to the ground floor, Lucas avoided the cafeteria and went through a door that led outside. Round redwood tables and chairs were scattered across the flagstone patio. It was early and they were alone outside except for a group of employees he didn’t know. Choosing a table secluded from the others by a potted palm, he set down the box and pulled out a chair for her. “Do you always come to work early?”
She sat and glanced over her shoulder at him. “I didn’t sleep much last night.” Her silky hair, full of waves that slid over her shoulder, glistened with red in the daylight.
“Thinking about the baby...or marriage?”
“Both.” She turned back to the table, avoiding his gaze.
At least she hadn’t dismissed the idea as ridiculous. He seated himself across from her and handed her a tuna sandwich with a carton of milk. “When do you take the bar?”
As she opened the sandwich wrapper, she leaned back. “The end of the month.”
Taking a hefty bite of his sandwich, he watched her break off a piece of the white bread crust and pop it into her mouth. She looked a little pale again.
“It seems like forever until you take the bar and receive notification of whether you passed.”
“You remember?” she asked with a smile.
Although he was thirty-four and nine years past the bar exam, he remembered the waiting well. “I had a lot riding on that notification. Several people had put their faith in my ability to succeed.”
“Your family?”
“I don’t have a family, Olivia.” But he didn’t want to go into that with her. Not now. Not yet. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
She picked up the sandwich, but as she brought it to her mouth, she practically turned green. Abruptly setting it in front of her, she pushed it to his side of the table. “Lucas, I’m sorry. But the smell of tuna—”
Suddenly he understood and whisked it away from her and stood. “Are you sure it’s just the tuna? Maybe you should go to a doctor.”
“I was just at my doctor’s yesterday. It’s morning sickness, only I have it most of the day.”
“You have to eat,” he advised, a protective feeling he never experienced before engulfing him.
“I realize that. But some smells and tastes make it worse.”
“What can I get you?”
“Lucas, really...”
“I’m going to buy you lunch. Would you like to go somewhere else?”
His determination must have convinced her. “A turkey sandwich would be fine. And a soda—without caffeine.”
“Anything else?”
“No, thanks. The doctor told me eating a little bit more often would help.”
“I’ll be right back.” He almost added, “So don’t go running off.” But Olivia didn’t look as if she would run anywhere. She was still too pale.
As he set off for the cafeteria, he decided he needed to go to a bookstore and buy a few books on pregnant women. Information was power, and he needed some power where Olivia was concerned.
An almost balmy breeze lifted the strands of Olivia’s hair. She let the peace and sunny weather soothe her as the nausea subsided. Lucas had looked so...puzzled as to what to do with her. She had to smile. She guessed he was used to being in charge and on top of every situation. Even on Christmas Eve as he’d admitted he was spending the night alone, there was a confidence about him that suggested if he was alone, it was by choice.
Would Christmas Eve ever have happened if she hadn’t missed spending the holiday with her mother? But Rosemary McGovern had gone on a well-deserved vacation with a few other teachers and Olivia had encouraged her. Her mother had worked hard and sacrificed to put her daughter through law school, helping as much as she could.
Lucas had said he had no family. No connections? No bonds? Then where did he fly off to on weekends?
A few minutes later, she spotted Lucas as he pushed through the glass doors. He was so tall...so absolutely assured...so... The word that kept coming to mind was sexy. And that’s the attribute that had gotten her into trouble in the first place. Not only the way he looked, but the way he touched and kissed.
This time he carried a tray with a turkey sandwich and a soda.
As he set it in front of her, she gazed up at him and couldn’t look away. Why wouldn’t her insides stop trembling whenever he came too close? Finally she managed to say, “Thank you.”
When he was settled across from her again and had popped the top on his cola, he said, “You mentioned you’d been thinking about marriage.”
It was a lead-in, meant to start a discuss
ion. But she didn’t really feel there was much to discuss. “I can’t marry you, Lucas. You’re...a...a...stranger!”
“Not quite,” he countered in a rich, even tone that conveyed exactly what he was picturing.
Her pulse sped up and she took a small bite of her sandwich to give herself a few moments. “I won’t compound one mistake by making another. We need more than...”
“Desire is the word, Olivia. And I’d say it’s a good start. But maybe you’re right. We don’t have to rush. After all, we have another...what...eight months until the baby’s born?”
“The end of September,” she murmured, feeling uneasy, knowing by the look in his eyes that he was planning some strategy.
He gave her a slow smile. “If you won’t marry me yet, will you come live with me?”
Chapter Two
“Just consider it a compatibility test,” Lucas suggested with more levity than he felt.
“A compatibility test,” Olivia repeated warily.
“Sure.” He leaned forward and inhaled the tease of her perfume that could draw him even closer if the table weren’t separating them. “Let’s face it, Olivia. We have the chemical mix. If we have compatibility, too, what else do we need?”
Her furrowed brow told him she could give him a few answers to that question, but he was sure they’d have more to do with fantasy than reality. Covering her hand, he used persuasion for the skill it was. “This child deserves the best we can give him. Shouldn’t we at least give living together a fair chance?”
As she still hesitated, he wondered if Stanley Whitcomb was the reason. “If you’re worried about gossip, no one has to know. At least not yet. And until we see if we’re compatible, our relationship can be strictly platonic.”
“We’d be roommates?”
“Exactly. The guest bedroom has a lock on the door, if that makes you feel better about the idea.”
Pulling her hand away from his, she slid back on her chair. “I need to think about this, Lucas.”
The Night before Baby Page 2