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A Pregnant Proposal
Elizabeth Harbison
To: Lauren, Maggie, Julia, SharonFrom: JenDate: 11/01RE: Due date–1 month!You've got to help me! Since my fiance died, his ruthless father wants custody of my baby. It's true he's wealthy, but he won't love my son as I do. So I need to stop him. What if I say someone else is the father? I've been thinking about my boss, Matt Holder. I wonder what he'd do if I said he was my baby's father–and my fiance? He's passing by the office now–and he smiled at me!Gotta go!
“I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to speak to me again.”
“Jen.” Matt couldn’t stand to see her so upset. “I’m not about to stop speaking to you. This isn’t about me.”
“Actually, yes, it kind of is. I told you my ex’s father asked me who my fiancé was. I had to come up with someone. Quick.” She snapped her fingers in rapid succession. “I barely had a second to catch my breath, much less think before I spoke.”
“Y-yes…?”
“I just told him the first name I thought of.”
“Which was…?”
Matt’s phone rang, much to his irritation. His inclination had been to ignore it, but he couldn’t very well do that if it might be for Jen. He’d barely answered when his father’s voice boomed, “Just what are you thinking, getting a girl in trouble, planning a shotgun wedding and not even letting your own father know about it?”
A Pregnant Proposal
Elizabeth Harbison
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my Paige and Jack, and to the man who is a hero to us all, John.
Books by Elizabeth Harbison
Silhouette Romance
A Groom for Maggie #1239
Wife Without a Past #1258
Two Brothers and a Bride #1286
True Love Ranch #1323
* (#litres_trial_promo)Emma and the Earl #1410
* (#litres_trial_promo)Plain Jane Marries the Boss #1416
* (#litres_trial_promo)Annie and the Prince #1423
* (#litres_trial_promo)His Secret Heir #1528
A Pregnant Proposal #1553
ELIZABETH HARBISON
has been an avid reader for as long as she can remember. After devouring the Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden series in grade school, she moved on to the suspense of Mary Stewart, Dorothy Eden and Daphne du Maurier, just to name a few. From there is was a natural progression to writing, although early efforts have been securely hidden away in the back of a closet.
After authoring three cookbooks, Elizabeth turned her hand to writing romances and hasn’t looked back. Her second book for Silhouette Romance, Wife Without a Past, was a 1998 finalist for the Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA Award in the “Best Traditional Romance” category.
Elizabeth lives in Maryland with her husband, John, daughter, Mary Paige, and son, Jack, as well as two dogs, Bailey and Zuzu. She loves to hear from readers and you can write to her c/o Box 1636, Germantown, MD 20875.
KANE HALEY
Note to self: Who’s having my baby?
Trudy—hopeless romantic, office gossip, can’t keep a secret. If it’s not her, she might know who it is!
Lauren Connor—dates a lot, trying out new looks to impress her boss, was out sick with stomach flu. Hmm…
Sharon Davies—recently trapped in an elevator with a major client, blushes whenever he’s around, looking a little green lately. Could she be carrying my baby?
Leila—makes eyes at me. Is it more than a crush?
Maggie Steward—my personal assistant, wants children, clock is ticking. She would never go to a sperm bank!
Julia Parker—worries that her endometriosis could make her infertile. No man in her life. Definite sperm bank material!
Jennifer Martin—eight months pregnant. Is it her late fiancé’s baby? Is it mine?
WHEN THE LIGHTS WENT OUT…
A PREGNANT PROPOSAL
THE MAKEOVER TAKEOVER
LAST CHANCE FOR BABY
SHE’S HAVING MY BABY!
KANE HALEY, INC.
CHICAGO, IL
Contents
Prologue (#u016a1bbd-de98-53d9-bd41-881fa9b3aa01)
Chapter One (#uf1cd0078-3257-534f-9bb8-39210a589fe3)
Chapter Two (#u1ea09152-ff22-5f92-9566-97398f1e86a2)
Chapter Three (#u2ec1f9de-0ce7-578e-9107-ebda3e991a83)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
“I’m sorry.” Jennifer Martin dabbed at her teary eyes with a tissue and tried to hold back a sob. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You don’t know what’s wrong?” her friend, Susan Bane, repeated incredulously. “Five weeks ago your fiancé died during a tête-à-tête in the Caribbean—with a married woman, no less—and you don’t know why you’re upset?”
Jen blew her nose and tried to get comfortable on the stiff leather couch Philip had insisted was more “elegant” than the cozy down one she’d preferred. It was one more thing to be irritated with him about, and that irritation with a dead man was one more thing to feel guilty about. Lately that was the way her emotions chased each other around; first anger, then sadness, then guilt.
“Okay,” Jen said, taking a bottle of antacids off the side table and popping one of them into her mouth. It tasted chalky and disgusting, but she forced it down. “Obviously I have things to be upset about, but lately I’ve been just sobbing at the drop of a hat and it’s never for one clear reason. It seems to be getting worse, not better.”
Susan leaned over from her chair and patted Jen’s forearm, concern etched in her features. “Honey, I had no idea it was still so bad. Do you want me to stay here with you for a few days?”
Jen managed a smile. “Thanks, but I don’t think it would make much difference. Besides, the kids need you at home.” She blew her nose. “I’ll just wait it out and hope it gets better.”
“Have you thought about getting professional help?”
Jen waved the idea away with her hand.
Susan persisted. “All right, then, maybe just some straight talk from a friend. I don’t want to sound disrespectful, but Philip isn’t worth a nervous breakdown. It’s awful that he died, of course, but for Pete’s sake, it happened because his lover tossed her silk robe on one of the forty candles he had lit in the bridal suite at some St. Thomas No-Tell Hotel when he told you that he was in Boston on business. He was not a nice guy. No matter what the reason, you’re better off not being married to him.”
Jen pressed her lips together and nodded. “I agree. Knowing what I do now, he wasn’t good husband material.” She didn’t add that she was downright relieved that she wasn’t married to him.
Susan snorted. “He wasn’t nearly good enough for you. I never thought he was.”
“That’s funny, his parents never thought I was good enough for him. I guess a working girl from Michigan wasn’t what they had in mind for an up-and-coming Chicago uberlawyer. His father’s firm is all about image, and I didn’t fit it. They all drive the same kind of car. The same color even.” She shook her head. “I didn’t fit in with the blue, luxury station wagon wives.”
“See? So you’re better off without them, too.” Susan gave a sympathetic smile and added gently, “You have to put it all behind you and move on.”
“That’s just it,” Jen said, as tears burned her eyes again. She impatiently whipped a tissue out of the box next to her and held it against her eyes for a moment. “I don’t even think it’s Philip or what would have been our marriage that’s got me so upset. I don’t know what it is.” She reached for the antacids again and shook two more into her hand.
Susan watched her closely, then asked, “What’s with you and the Tums?”
Jen sniffed and shrugged. “I’ve had the worst heartburn lately.”
“Hmm.”
“It’s probably from being upset all the time.”
Susan appeared to consider that for a moment, then nodded. “That makes sense. More proof that you need to get this under control. How about a glass of wine?”
Jen made a face. “I’m not particularly in the mood, but maybe it would help me sleep tonight.”
“Like you need help sleeping,” Susan said with a laugh as she got up. She went to the kitchen and took two wineglasses off the rack. “Matt said he saw you slumped over a pile of papers at your desk yesterday.”
“Oh, no, he saw me?” She imagined herself sleeping, mouth agape, perhaps even drooling, and cringed. “Why didn’t he wake me up?”
Susan popped the cork out of a bottle of merlot. “He said you looked so peaceful he couldn’t bear to wake you. Figured you needed sleep, so he closed the blinds and left you alone.”
“So that’s who closed the blinds! Good lord, I thought I was going nuts.” It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d done something and forgotten about it lately. In the past couple of weeks, she’d even had momentary lapses where she got lost halfway to work.
“Stress can certainly make you feel like you’re going nuts.”
“You can say that again.” She sighed, and pushed her thick auburn hair out of her eyes. “I can’t believe Matt saw me like that. Did he say anything else? Was I snoring?”
Susan handed her a glass and took a sip from her own. “Yeah. And drooling. It sounded hideous.” She laughed. “Come on, you know Matt wouldn’t say if you were.”
“I guess not.” Truth was, she barely knew Matt Holder. As the Director of Human Resources at Kane Haley, Incorporated, his path rarely crossed that of Jen, who was the Benefits Manager. His office was on the 16th floor, hers was on the 14th. Until a few months ago, he was only a face she’d seen from afar. An attractive face, to be sure—with short, wavy dark hair, warm hazel eyes and a crooked smile that transformed his whole face—but not someone she dealt with much. “But still, he went around telling people I fell asleep on the job.”
“He didn’t tell ‘people,”’ Susan said. “He told me, and that was only because he was worried about you. In fact, he was quite worried about you.”
What little indignation Jen had been able to work up deflated instantly. Matt was a great guy and she knew it. When one of Susan’s kids had broken a leg, Matt had come to her rescue, covering a huge chunk of her work and making sure she was able to spend as much time at home with little Margaret as she needed to without penalty. He’d never mentioned to anyone that Susan was missing work. He wasn’t the kind of guy who would go spreading ugly talk about anyone. “No one needs to worry about me.”
“Well, we’re going to anyway. Face it, Jen, you’re cursed with friends who care.”
Jen’s chest began to ache, and a now-familiar burn touched her eyes. “Thanks.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “See what I mean? Everything makes me cry these days.” She picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. It tasted bitter, and burned her throat. She set the glass down as a wave of cold washed over her.
“You’re clearly on an emotional roller coaster,” she heard Susan say, but before she could respond, her stomach lurched.
“I’m going to be sick,” Jen said.
“You’re going to be fine, Jen, it’s just going to take some time to—”
“No, I’m going to be sick. Now!” She leapt from her seat and ran to the bathroom, making it just in time.
When she came out again, Susan had cleared away the wineglasses and had put some graham crackers on a plate for Jen. “Here. These will help. Do you have any soda?”
Jen put a hand to her clammy forehead. “No. I wish I did.”
“Then I’m going to run out and get you some right now. Along with a pregnancy test.”
“A pregnancy test? What are you talking about?”
“Your emotions are swinging wildly, you’re chomping antacids like candy and a sip of wine sends you running for the bathroom. I’ve been pregnant two times and the signs are pretty unmistakable.”
