Your Baby Or Mine?

Home > Romance > Your Baby Or Mine? > Page 10
Your Baby Or Mine? Page 10

by Marie Ferrarella


  He knew he should get going, but he couldn’t seem to make himself. The woman didn’t have an ounce of fat to spare, he thought as he admired the view.

  Something distant and needy stirred within him. He pushed it away, upbraiding himself for behaving like an adolescent in heat He was grateful she couldn’t read minds.

  “All right,” he laughed. “You are. A wonderful godsend, dispatched just in time to deliver me from the brink of total and complete collapse and to keep me from going insane.”

  She turned around and raised her eyes to his. There was amusement in them. As well as something else. A knowing look. Maybe she could read minds, at that, he thought, suddenly uncomfortable.

  Her smile took him prisoner. “With a testimonial like that, maybe I should ask for a raise.” She deposited several more toys into the already overflowing box.

  Marissa was worth twice the salary they had initially agreed upon. He’d be the first to admit that. “If you want to renegotiate—”

  She was only kidding. The salary he was paying her was more than she had expected. It wasn’t money now, but time that she needed.

  “I’ll settle for some free time to work on my paper tonight.” She hesitated, then added, “And a crack at your computer if you don’t mind.” She had planned on renting one to type the final copy of her paper, but it would be nice to have one at her disposal while her thesis was still in the rough stage.

  Computers were so much a part of his life, he sometimes forgot that not everyone owned one.

  “Feel free.” Alec paused. Was he going to insult her if he offered to give her pointers? “You know how to use one?”

  He looked as if he was afraid he was going to hurt her feelings. That was sweet, as well as unexpected. The man had his moments, she thought.

  “Yes, I just can’t afford one right now. The cost of diapers and baby food keep eating into the money I was putting aside to buy a computer.”

  There was an old one in the office he could probably get for her. A little tinkering on his part and he could have it up to speed, ready to compete with the current models in no time.

  He really should be going, he reminded himself. He’d promised to meet with one of the potential backers and Rex by ten for brunch at the Sheridan in Newport Beach. Orange juice, bagels and lox, and software. It made for an interesting combination.

  Though he knew that he should already be in the driveway, getting into his car, Alec couldn’t seem to make himself take more than a couple of steps. And they were toward her, not the door. “Nothing fazes you, does it?”

  If he was referring to the fact that she couldn’t afford to buy what she considered luxuries because she had to spend it on someone very precious, it was no contest.

  Marissa straightened a pile of computer magazines Alec had left on the coffee table and the children had subsequently tried to eat. “Lots of things faze me,” she admitted. “I just don’t let them stop me, that’s all.” Her eyes held his for a moment. “If you let any one thing overwhelm you, then it’s won and you’ve lost.”

  He stooped to retrieve a magazine that had found its way under the table. Alec placed it on top of the stack. “Is that how you see life, in terms of win or lose?”

  “Sometimes.” She aligned the magazine on top of the others. “But it’s not black and white, that’s for sure. And every bad thing usually has something good come out of it.”

  He laughed dryly. “Now that sounds like something you’d find inside a fortune cookie.”

  She took no offense, sensing none was intended. “I adore fortune cookies.”

  That gave him an idea. He was serious about wanting to make this up to her. It had to be damn inconvenient. She hadn’t had a day off since she’d started. “How about Chinese food?”

  She wasn’t sure what he was asking and didn’t want to make a mistake by jumping to a conclusion. “It goes with the cookie.”

  He took that to be a yes. “Okay. Tonight. On me.”

  Marissa stopped fixing cushions. “Are you bringing it home, taking me to it, or wearing it?”

  He laughed. Since she’d been here, he found himself laughing more and more. And feeling good. He knew the danger in that and tried to distance himself, but it was impossible. So impossible that he was beginning to stop trying. Everything was short-lived, he rationalized, so he might as well enjoy it while it was happening. It would be over soon enough.

  Good things usually were.

  “Your choice,” he offered.

  It had been forever since she had been to a real restaurant, but that would necessitate getting a baby-sitter, one who could handle two children. Both Jane and her mother were unavailable tonight. That narrowed her options.

  “Well, as tempting as seeing you decked out in moo goo gai pan is, getting the stains out would probably be hell. And going out won’t work, so, by process of elimination, I guess you’re bringing it home.”

  It would be best that way. No misunderstandings. And yet he couldn’t help wondering why she didn’t want to go out. Was she afraid to go out with him?

  “Why won’t going out work?”

  There was something in the way he looked at her, something that made her forget to breathe. Sometimes, she actually forgot how really handsome he was, until he looked at her like that and she remembered all over again.

  She shrugged, feeling a little awkward. “Because we can’t get a sitter on such short notice.”

  He wanted to take her out. To be alone with her in a crowd. He knew he was on dangerous ground here, but he couldn’t help walking. “Your friend—”

  “Is busy,” Marissa said with genuine regret. “And so is her mother. I can’t get anyone else on such short notice.” There was his mother, but she wasn’t going to suggest that. And since he didn’t, she knew that he was just making a gesture. A very nice gesture, but a gesture nonetheless. “Besides, you don’t really want to take me out.”

  How the hell had she arrived at that conclusion? “I don’t? Why don’t I?”

  “Because you’re busy. Because…” Why was she explaining this to him? Didn’t he know? Or…“Do you?” she asked in a surprised whisper.

  Yes, he realized, he did. He wanted to take her out. Not to show his appreciation for the way she was handling every rough spot in his life at home, but because she was Marissa. Because her hair smelled like wildflowers. Because he’d dreamed of her again.

  He was standing so close to her, she could almost taste him. Her throat felt like parchment left out in the desert sun. She could physically feel the seconds ticking away as her body poised, waiting. Waiting for that final contact.

  If he stayed here one more minute, he was going to do something he’d regret.

  Something he wanted to do.

  “I’d better go.” But instead of leaving, he slid his hands along her shoulders slowly, thinking of the soft body that was just beneath the thin material. He stood there as if he’d been frozen for all time on a frame of film.

  She could feel her body begin to hum like a tuning fork that had been struck. “Alec?”

  He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. He wondered if it tasted as sweet as it sounded. “Yes?”

  She said the words before her courage flagged. “It won’t hurt anything if you kiss me.”

  He could feel his body aching. Why wasn’t he leaving? Running? While he still had the chance…

  Who was he kidding? He had no chance at all. “I don’t know about that.”

  They were destined to kiss, she knew it, felt it. More than anything, she wanted him to be the one to make the first move.

  “Aren’t you the least bit curious?” Her voice was low, husky, part innocence, part temptation.

  Curious? Hell, if he were honest, he’d thought of nothing else. It kept sneaking up on him, trying to break through the smoke screen he’d thrown up. The one meant to smother all his feelings, except the ones he’d consciously allowed to flourish for Andrea.

  His fingers tight
ened on her shoulders. “You know what they said about curiosity and the cat.”

  She wanted this, she thought. Really, really wanted this. “Last I looked, neither one of us was a cat.”

  His hands slipped from her shoulders, down along her arms and rested on the swell of her hips. Her answer amused him, even as her presence stoked a fire long thought extinguished. “Aren’t you supposed to be practicing child psychology?”

  There was a smile in her eyes if not on her lips. “There’s a little bit of child within all of us.”

  He couldn’t draw his eyes away from her mouth, the way it moved when she spoke, the way it curved as she smiled, not at him but into him. He could feel the indelible mark of her smile within his breast.

  It was a silly, hopelessly romantic thought, and he had long since stopped being a romantic. Maybe he was just suffering from battle fatigue. He’d been overworked, overstressed for a long time now.

  Or maybe, just maybe, with his life filled to overflowing with Andrea and work, he was lonely and he needed to reach out to someone.

  To her.

  Alec didn’t want to analyze what he was feeling anymore. Not with her body so close to his. It was enough that he did feel. He thought he’d forgotten how.

  His heart pounding madly in his ears, Alec lowered his mouth to hers. The last thing Alec heard, or thought he heard, was Marissa whispering, “Geronimo.”

  He had to be hallucinating.

  A moment later he was convinced of it. It was all a hallucination, what she said, what she did. How he felt. Because he knew that kissing a woman couldn’t feel like this. Had never been like this. He felt as if he’d just voluntarily stood in front of a mule and asked to be kicked in his gut.

  That was the kind of wallop her kiss packed.

  Stripping him of his breath, his mind and probably his very identity, she sent him reeling to the edge of space. To the edge of a black hole that had never been entered before. He probably wouldn’t return alive.

  He deepened the kiss and went in.

  Everything within Marissa sang as she felt the hard imprint of Alec’s body against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned further into him, into the kiss that was drawing out every single thought she’d ever had and leaving her in a state of complete disorientation.

  She’d known it.

  Known from the very start, in her heart, if not in her mind, that it would be like this. That his kiss could have this effect on her. It made the very ground tremble beneath her and yet it filled her with such peace that it almost brought tears to her eyes.

  Bells. He heard damn bells ringing. Just what did this diminutive woman pack into her kiss? Struggling for release, Alec pulled his mouth from hers with a ragged breath. The ringing continued.

  “I think it’s the telephone,” she whispered, unable to speak any louder. Not without being able to breathe.

  For a moment Alec could only stare at her mutely, dumbstruck. He liked being prepared for things. There was no way on earth he could have been prepared for this. Nothing to tell him that every one of his defenses would be incinerated by the merest touch of her mouth.

  Damn, but he wanted to kiss her again. To make love with her in his bed.

  In the bed where he had made love with Christine.

  The thought came crashing down on him, amputating the joy that had begun to sprout within him at its source. He couldn’t go through this again.

  Alec heard his own voice as the answering machine picked up.

  “Hi, this is Alec Beckett. I’m unable to get to the phone right now—”

  To get to the phone? Hell, he was unable to get to a coherent thought right now. But the sound of Rex’s disembodied voice had a sobering effect on him. That, and the thought of what he’d almost allowed himself to do.

  “Alec, I hope you haven’t left because I lost your damn mobile phone number and I can’t reach you any other way. The brunch has been pushed forward to nine-thirty. I need you with those charts now.”

  Like a man in a trance, Alec walked over to the answering machine and pushed the speaker button. He didn’t feel as if he had the strength to lift the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Alec? Is that you? What’s the matter? You sound strange. Are you sick?”

  His eyes were on Marissa. She looked as shaken as he did. It didn’t make him feel any better. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

  Alec was looking at her as if she’d just stepped off the mother ship and asked to be taken to his leader. Why? Hadn’t he enjoyed what had just happened here? She had. Infinitely. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she hadn’t been with another man since Antonio had walked out on her. She hadn’t wanted to be with another man.

  Until just now.

  Marissa drew in a shaky breath and dragged her hand through her hair. He looked upset, she thought. She didn’t want him to be upset. She wanted him to be happy. She was. But men, she remembered, were easily frightened by what they couldn’t control and she didn’t think that either one of them could easily control what had just happened between them.

  “Look, I want you to get here as soon as you can,” Rex was saying. Alec was trying hard to concentrate on the sound of his voice and not the way his pulse was beating. “Maxwell is still undecided whether or not to throw his money into the deal and we need that money in order to go national. If anyone can convince him, it’s you.”

  Right now, he didn’t feel as if he could convince a rabbit to eat carrots. He couldn’t think straight, let alone negotiate. Maybe his brain would defog by the time he got there. He fervently hoped so.

  “Sure,” Alec muttered. “I’ll be right there.”

  “You sure you’re all right?”

  Alec hung up without answering the question. Not knowing the answer to the question. He didn’t feel all right. And yet he felt wonderful. That was just the trouble.

  He searched for the right words. She couldn’t think that this meant anything.. “Marissa—”

  She knew panic when she saw it. Was he afraid she was going to ask for some sort of a commitment just because he’d kissed her and most likely branded her for life? She knew better than that. But she didn’t want to hear him say anything to ruin the moment. “You’d better get going. That sounded important.”

  He looked at the telephone as if it was going to get up and walk away at any second. “It was—is. Look, what just happened here—”

  “Was very nice,” she said a bit to quickly, “but it shouldn’t make you late.”

  Was it all right? Was he the only one affected? “What should it do?”

  To say anything at all would be premature. But to deny that it ever happened was wrong, too. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

  There was nothing to figure out. It happened and it was over. “Marissa, I’m not looking to buy into anything.”

  Did he think she was laying a trap for him? She didn’t know whether to be angry or hurt. She was a little of both. “Good, because I’m not selling anything,” she said with a cheerfulness she didn’t feel. “Now, I suggest you get to your brunch.”

  “Right.” He leaned over the playpen and kissed Andrea, then eased his tie out of her hands. She was as fast as he was slow, he thought. Stepping away from the playpen, he straightened his tie. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised without looking at Marissa. He hurried out of the room.

  “Alec,” Marissa called after him.

  He stopped without turning around, braced, waiting. “Yes?”

  She came up to him, then handed him his briefcase. He’d left it in the hall. “You forgot this.”

  He stared at the briefcase for a minute as if he didn’t know what it was. He certainly didn’t know who he was anymore, he thought. “Oh. Yes. Thank you.”

  God, he sounded like a robot, he thought. Or an idiot. He wanted to stay here, to talk to her. To tell her that this had nowhere to go. And then to kiss her until she was as senseless as he was.

  But Rex and Ma
xwell were waiting, so he did neither. Instead, he left. Walking out as fast as he could.

  Chapter Eight

  The hours, comprised of minutes that were dipped in molasses and mounted on the backs of snails, were dragging on. It reminded Alec of days he’d spent in boarding school, when he was trapped in a classroom, waiting for the bell to ring, proclaiming him free.

  He was finding it hard not to fidget and wondered how long he should wait before sneaking another look at his watch. He’d already made his pitch and answered Maxwell’s myriad of questions, all, apparently, to the man’s satisfaction. Now they were just listening to the man talk. And talk. And talk.

  There was no doubt that the man was entertaining, but Alec didn’t want to be entertained. He wanted to be home. With Andrea, he added, afraid that even in the confines of his own mind, he had to keep vigilant watch over his thoughts. Ever since he had kissed Marissa, his mind hadn’t been his own to command.

  Maybe this would only go on a little bit longer. It sounded as if Maxwell was almost at the end of his story. So far, the brunch had gone very well. Rex, Alec noticed, was actually smiling instead of wearing that perpetually dour, worried expression that had become his signature. Rex was the money man behind the company. It was, he often said, his job to worry.

  He didn’t look worried anymore. It looked as if they finally had themselves a wealthy backer. About time, Alec thought.

  “I like putting my money where it’ll grow,” Maxwell was saying as a coda to his story.

  It seemed that there had been a point to it, after all, Alec thought.

  Bruce Maxwell, a man with features that belonged on the face of a gargoyle and the disposition of a cherub, leaned back and patted the cigars in his jacket pocket. He looked down at them longingly. There were no sections set aside in the restaurant for smoking.

  “A fine cigar’ll seal this bargain.” He slanted a mischievously sly glance at Rex. “That, and my check, of course.”

  Both men laughed. Rex’s was a nervous one. Alec knew he wouldn’t relax until the check had cleared, and not completely even then. Alec doubted that Rex knew how to completely relax.

 

‹ Prev