The Boss's Baby Bargain

by Karen Sandler

Pain twisted in her heart. His mind still fogged with sleep, Lucas sounded more like a vulnerable boy than the hard-edged man she knew. His first time ever to ask to accompany her, how could she tell him no? And yet she still felt the need to protect her father’s dignity.

  “Not this time.” She lightly stroked his arm from wrist to elbow. “Another time.”

  He frowned, his brow furrowing. Leaning in, Allie kissed him on the temple, easing away the lines of tension. Her cheek pressed against his, she waited until his even breathing signaled her he’d fallen asleep again.

  When she rose to her feet, her stomach rebelled at the quick movement. Leaving her clothes behind, she hurried to her room for her robe, then downstairs to the kitchen. A handful of crackers took the immediate edge off her queasiness, at least enough to hold her until she met her sister and brother for breakfast.

  As she stood in the quiet kitchen, the gloomy over-cast sending muted light through the windows, she faced the fact she couldn’t hold off forever telling Lucas about her pregnancy. It could change everything—his adoption plans, their marriage agreement.

  It could also destroy the little bit of progress they’d made in growing closer, in Lucas opening up to her. Yet the longer she waited, the more angry he might be that she’d kept it a secret from him.

  Damned if you do and damned if you don’t. Releasing a gust of air from her lungs, she put away the packet of crackers and left the kitchen. As she climbed the stairs, she did a quick mental calculation. With any luck, she wouldn’t begin to show for three or four more weeks. Waiting would give her that much more time to keep chipping away at Lucas’s walls, to reach the heart he kept so well hidden. He might never love her, but if he at least learned to care for her a little, it would make it all that much easier for him to love his child.

  She’d tell him by Christmas. It would be part of her holiday gift to him.

  The postponement relieved her, but all that day, during breakfast and her visit with her father, she could never quite let go of a nagging sense of guilt.

  Chapter Eleven

  By the third week of December, Lucas barely recognized his own home. A holly wreath decorated the front door, a massive tree blocked the view from the living-room window and garlands of fir festooned the walls. Every branch down to the last twig of the ten-foot spruce glittered with ornaments. Santas, snowmen and reindeer filled every inch of space on the living-room tables, dining-room sideboard and even the dresser in Allie’s bedroom.

  He supposed he should feel relieved she’d left his room untouched. But somehow it seemed bare in contrast to the gaudy splendor of the rest of the house. In a moment of weakness, he’d snitched a fat white-and-gold ceramic snowman from the centerpiece on the dining-room table and put it on his nightstand. If she’d noticed the piece was missing, she never said.

  He didn’t know quite how he felt about Allie’s Christmas onslaught. A little irritated at the takeover of his home. A bit amused by her almost frantic cheer. And something else—a wistful yearning he’d thought he’d given up as a boy.

  Right now she sat on the living-room floor with Mrs. Vasquez, bags of spilled candy, red and green cellophane and shiny gold ribbon arrayed between them. They were making treat bags for every child attending the TaylorMade Christmas party tomorrow—nearly 150 at last reckoning.

  As the tantalizing aroma of dinner wafted in from the kitchen, the two women worked together, counting foil-wrapped chocolates onto squares of cellophane. While one drew up the corners of the square into a neat packet, the other tied the ribbon around it.

  In the half dozen or so years Mrs. Vasquez had worked for him, he’d asked nothing of her but to keep the house clean and cook dinner. But in the short time Allie had lived here, the two had bonded in the way women seemed to so easily. Thick as thieves, they’d chattered their way through decorating the house, baking tray after tray of Christmas cookies.

  He’d have objected to the extra work Allie had given his housekeeper if Mrs. Vasquez hadn’t been so obviously overjoyed with the new duties. He watched them now, giggling over the smallest thing, making a big show of stealing a chocolate, curling each ribbon with tender care.

  The buzzer on the kitchen stove went off and Mrs. Vasquez sprang to her feet. “The casserole’s done,” she told Allie as she hurried off to the kitchen.

  Smiling, Allie watched her go, then tipped her head up to Lucas. “Did you know she has twelve children? And nearly as many grandchildren?”

  He shook his head. “We’ve never talked about it.”

  Allie’s eyes widened in surprise. He felt a vague sense of failure. He’d employed the woman for so many years and knew next to nothing about her family. But until Allie, it hadn’t seemed to matter.

  Reaching into the bag of chocolates, she plucked one out and rose fluidly to her feet. “Did she tell you she’s going back to the Philippines for a Christmas family reunion?”

  “She said something about it.” He vaguely remembered Mrs. Vasquez asking for an extra week off to visit family. But despite the woman’s presence in his home nearly every day, it had never crossed his mind to probe any further.

  A mysterious smile curving her lips, Allie unwrapped the chocolate in her hand, raised it to his lips. Reflexively, he opened his mouth, let her slip it inside. Her fingers brushing against his lips set off a heat that should have melted the sweet candy in seconds.

  His gaze locked with hers, he felt tension sizzle between them, a sensual electricity that coursed through his body. He wanted to kiss her, to share the chocolate’s dark rich flavor with her, to taste it mingling with her own unique essence. Keeping her vivid green eyes on him, her lips parted and she swayed slightly so that he reached out to her. Her soft emerald chenille sweater felt lush beneath his hand, warmed as it was by her skin.

  Since that night she’d shared his bed, they’d resumed their wary dance, keeping their distance, touching only if necessary. But there were moments, many moments, when the connection between them was so real it was nearly tangible. Lucas knew it was only a matter of time before the attraction between them exploded again.

  “Dinner is ready,” Mrs. Vasquez called from the kitchen. As she returned to the living room, Lucas took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets. Mrs. Vasquez pulled off her apron, dried her hands on it. “I’m afraid I have to go.”

  “No problem. I’m nearly done.”

  Allie waited until Mrs. Vasquez left, then lowered herself to the floor again and meticulously began counting out piles of the foil-wrapped candies. Carefully cutting a shiny square of red cellophane, she dropped a handful of chocolates onto it. Gathering up the corners, she struggled to hold it together while tying the ribbon.

  Lucas went down on one knee beside her. “Let me help.” He took the tiny packet, his fingers seeming too large for it. They got in the way of the gold ribbon and Allie laughed as she untangled a loop from his thumb. Seeing that ebullience on her flushed face, his heart lurched and he ached to draw her into his arms.

  How was he ever going to let her go? As he sat back on his heels, the sense of imminent loss slammed into him. What had seemed a calculated business decision—a temporary marriage—now seemed terribly wrong, incredibly stupid.

  And the end could come sooner than he’d originally thought. They’d sailed through the home visitation. And yesterday, John had notified Lucas he’d located a pregnant unwed teen planning to put her baby up for adoption. Due in January, the young girl was deciding between him and Allie and another couple. She would make her decision by the end of the year.

  He hadn’t told Allie yet. There was no reason to keep the information from her. But knowing it would be the beginning of the end, he couldn’t quite force the words from his throat.

  Counting out another pile of chocolates, she lifted the packet and again handed it to him. Her bright smile faded when she saw his face. “Lucas, what is it?”

  He kept his focus on the party favor in his hands. “Everything else ready for tom
orrow night?”

  He could feel her gaze on him. “Helen organized a group of volunteers to wrap the presents tonight. Randy has a crew putting the finishing touches on the decorations.”

  “Good. You’ve done a great job with this.” He moved to rise to his feet.

  Allie put out a hand to stop him. “Lucas.”

  Her fingers lay featherlight on the back of his wrist. He wanted to clasp them to his heart, hold them there forever. “Yes?”

  She chewed at her lower lip, the action both enticing and endearing. “Lucas, I…”

  She looked away and Lucas had the sense she’d lost her nerve. Intuition tingled up his spine, setting him on alert. “What is it?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  He would have pressured her, but he had a secret of his own. Why push her to reveal something when he wasn’t ready to be completely honest himself?

  He straightened, held out his hand to her. “Let’s get dinner. We can finish this later.”

  Helping her up, he walked with her into the kitchen, fingers locked with his. Sharing dinner with her was just one more pleasure he would sacrifice when he let her go.

  But not yet. She was still his for now.

  Dressed in a red felt elf suit, Allie supervised the impatient line of children waiting for Santa, her ears ringing with the almost mind-numbing noise in the TaylorMade cafeteria. Employees roamed the busy space, some of them costumed as elves or reindeer, entertaining the children or soothing the occasional tears. The TaylorMade staff boasted some surprising talents, from the two software engineers skilled at balloon animals to the VP of marketing’s deft hand at magic.

  Shifting to relieve her sore feet, Allie smiled at the next child in the queue for Santa. Helen, doubling as Mrs. Claus, had taken a well-deserved break, leaving Allie to monitor the Santa station. It was a delight to see the children’s wide-eyed wonder, their joy as they accepted the gift set aside just for them.

  Two hours into TaylorMade’s First Annual Children’s Christmas Party, it was clear the endeavor was a smashing success. From toddlers to midteens, kids filled the room, wolfing down pizza and soda, overindulging in candy and cake. Christmas carols blared from a music system brought in by one of the employees and Santa had a full slate of petitioners.

  It had been Lucas’s idea to corral the older teens to help with the party. When they’d first arrived, the teens had huddled together in a corner, eyeing each other and the adults in the room warily, casting disdainful glances at the younger children.

  Lucas had sized up the situation instantly. He’d approached them matter-of-factly and within minutes had them organized into teams—one group to serve, another to assist at the crafts table, another to clean up. After a half hour he rotated the groups, making sure each had time simply to enjoy the party.

  Of course he’d known instinctively what to do. He’d been one of those teens, lost in the foster system with no hope of adoption. Allie gained another bit of insight into her husband that evening.

  She watched him now as he sat at the crafts table with a girl of five or six in his lap. His hands dwarfed the child’s as he helped her glue ribbon around a foam ball. When the girl finished her ornament with a shower of glitter and got more of the sparkly stuff on Lucas than the ball, he just brushed the excess off his hands, unconcerned about the mess.

  One of the teen helpers put the ornament in a paper sack for safekeeping, then the little girl hopped off Lucas’s lap and raced for the food table. As if she’d been waiting her turn, another youngster held out her arms to Lucas to be lifted into his lap. He pulled her up without hesitation, giving her a brief hug as she settled into place.

  As Allie bent to coax a balky three-year-old boy up to Santa, tears teased her eyes. The doubts she’d harbored about Lucas’s ability to nurture a child had fled tonight. In the two hours she’d watched him at the party, he’d handled teenage pride and preschool needs with equal ease. The school-age kids trailed after him everywhere, hero worship shining in their eyes.

  He might approach the children with a businessman’s efficiency, but it was clear his heart led the way. And Allie would bet a month’s salary he didn’t even realize it.

  Without volition, her hand went to her abdomen where Lucas’s child had taken root. He deserved to know about this life the two of them had created. Although she’d planned to put off telling him until Christmas, she resolved to tell him that night after the party. After seeing how comfortable he was with the children here, she was sure he would welcome her news.

  Tiredness seeping into her, Allie smiled with gratitude as Helen moved across the room toward her. “Just in time,” Allie said as the older woman took up her post next to Santa. “My feet were just about to give out.”

  “Go spend some time with that husband of yours.” Helen nodded toward Lucas. “He looks like he could use a break, too.”

  Making her way through the crowd of children, Allie headed for the crafts table where Lucas was just helping another little girl from his lap. He caught sight of Allie as she closed the distance between them, his gray gaze intent as he watched her.

  “How about some time off for good behavior?” She held her hand out to him.

  Enclosing her hand in his, he rose from the table. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, then led her through the throng to the exit.

  As they stepped outside, the frosty December air crept up the back of Lucas’s neck, seeped through the sleeves of his wool sweater. Beside him, Allie shivered, the thin felt of her costume obviously providing no protection against the winter chill.

  Taking hold of her shoulders, he turned her toward him. “Too cold? Should we go back inside?”

  “In a minute,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.

  He reached for her, pulled her close. “Here.” He imagined his heat soaking into her, enfolding her. Her unique scent clung to her hair, a mix of wildflowers and an intangible female essence.

  She sighed, her shivers easing as she relaxed. “You’ve been so wonderful tonight.” She tipped her head back to look up at him. “You’re so good with kids.”

  Joy at her compliment leapt in him, disbelief snapping at its heels. “I don’t even know what I’m doing. Half the time I just guess.”

  She laughed. “Just like any other parent would.”

  “I’m not a parent.”

  “But you will be. Soon.”

  She had no idea how soon. He glanced away, looking out over the TaylorMade campus, toward the pond where a mist gathered. Then he forced his gaze back down at her. “About that…” he said slowly.

  Panic flashed across her face. “You’ve changed your mind about wanting a child?”

  Her alarm puzzled him, set off an unease in the pit of his stomach. “Why?”

  “Because…I thought maybe…” For a moment she looked frantic, then she took a deep breath. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “No! Of course not.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut; when she opened them, her relief was evident. “Good. That’s good.”

  “What about you?” Raising his hand to her face, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Any second thoughts about adopting?”

  She paused for one breath, two, before shaking her head slowly. Her hesitation chewed at him, made him uneasy.

  “I heard from John.” He locked his gaze with hers, tried to decipher the thoughts hidden behind them. “He may have found a baby for us.” He told her about the expectant teenage girl, watching her face for a reaction.

  She listened silently before asking, “When will John know?”

  “Before New Year’s. The girl promised to make a decision by then.” He brought his other hand up to cup her face, wishing he could will her compliance with his touch. “If she chooses us, that means you only have another year or so.”

  “Not very long,” she murmured. Was that relief he heard?

  “No, it isn’t.” To him, it didn’t seem long enough. He let
his gaze wander across her face, settle on her lips. The urgency to kiss her, to claim her, took hold of him. “Allie…”

  Her name hung in the air between them as he lowered his mouth to hers. He brushed his lips softly against hers at first, deepening the kiss by slow degrees, lightly tracing with his tongue before dipping briefly inside. She moaned at each gentle thrust, the audible sound of her pleasure combined with the wet heat of her mouth an intoxicating blend.

  “Damn, I want you,” he groaned. “I tell myself to keep away, but I can’t seem to resist touching you.”

  “I want you to touch me. I want you to hold me.”

  He kissed her cheeks, along the bridge of her nose, the line of her jaw, every inch of her sweet and warm. “Then what, Allie? If we make love, what happens after that? When we have a year together, maybe less.”

  Stay with me! I won’t let you go! The words exploded from deep inside him, shocking him with their vehemence. He bit them back to keep from saying them out loud.

  She stroked his back, her touch maddening. “I don’t know, Lucas. I just know I want you, too.”

  He drew back, his gaze on her, the promise in her green eyes enough to burn him alive. His body clamored at him to take what she offered. Nobility had never been his strong suit and Allie seemed to strip away his decorum with ease.

  “I didn’t marry you for this, Allie,” he said harshly. “Only for a child.”

  She winced a little at his bald statement, edged back from him far enough that his hands dropped to his sides. Her teeth caught her lower lip, worrying it. “There’s something I have to tell you, Lucas.”

  Terror burst inside him. She wanted to leave him, to terminate their marriage! “About what?” He pushed the question past a throat gone raw with fear. “The adoption?”

  The damned uncertainty flickered in her eyes again. “Yes and no.”

  He felt so tightly wound with tension, he thought he’d snap in two. “Tell me,” he rasped out.

  She glanced inside the brightly lit cafeteria where the party continued, the revelers oblivious to the turmoil brewing just outside. Her gaze met his again. “Not here. When we get home.”