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The voice, deep, dark, like good chocolate, hit her as hard as the memory. Sitting in the bar, intoxicated not by the barely touched mixed drink in front of her, but by the conversation, by the way he looked at her and really seemed to see her. Listen to her.
Molly turned around, and there he was. Linc. Looking exactly—well, almost exactly—like he had that night.
He stood in the hall beside a cherry-paneled door labeled “Conference Room,” a second man she barely noticed by his side. All she saw was Linc, wearing a tailored navy suit that on another man would have looked merely handsome. But on Linc, the suit gave him an air of power. At his full six-foot-two height, he commanded the wide hallways of Curtis Systems.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Now or never. She took a step forward. “Looking for you.”
Surprise lit his features. The man beside him looked from Molly to Linc, then back again, clearly curious. With an almost imperceptible flick of his hand, Linc dismissed the other man, who shot Linc a grin, then said something about a meeting and headed off down the corridor.
“Why?” Linc said, taking a step forward and lowering his voice. “I thought we agreed not to see each other again.”
Whatever Hollywood reunion she’d secretly hoped to have, with Linc being glad to see her, deflated in that moment, in the neutral tone in his voice. Molly’s hand strayed protectively to her abdomen, and she decided there was no way she was going to drop the pregnancy bombshell. Not now. “You were actually the one who told me to look you up if I ever got to Vegas again. Well, I’m in Vegas…and looking you up.”
“I…” He thought a second, and in the flash of that moment she panicked, sure she’d done the wrong thing. “I did. But I had no idea you’d actually take me up on the offer.”
She’d come all this way, thinking she could walk into Linc’s life, take him up on that job offer he’d thrown out the night they met, tell him about the baby, and in the process get to know him—
And it was all falling apart right before her eyes. The tears that had been a constant companion ever since she’d left the doctor’s office threatened again at the back of her eyes, but Molly refused to let them win.
She thought of the baby, and a fierce need to take care of the child to come rose within her. She had to find a job. Immediately. No matter what it took.
Linc had made that offer. She had heard him. This could work.
It would work.
“I realize I’ve just dropped in on you out of the blue,” she said, wanting only to get out of there, before the tears won or Linc said something else that fractured her composure, but refusing to give up just yet. “And this might be a bad time, so perhaps we can schedule a time to talk.”
“Is there something about that night I should know?” His voice had dropped nearly to a whisper.
Here was her chance to tell him the truth. She opened her mouth to say I’m pregnant, then shut it again.
Linc’s reaction thus far to her presence hadn’t exactly spelled overjoyed. He’d been terse, short. Almost…annoyed. She hadn’t really expected the Hollywood reaction—him sweeping her into his arms and kissing her passionately—but something a little more enthusiastic would have done a lot for her peace of mind. The pregnancy had already knocked her off center, and to have Linc react as if she was a fly in his soup—
She didn’t need one more stress. Not now. Besides, the last place she wanted to share news like this was in a hall outside a conference room. She’d wait for a better time. One when perhaps Linc had come around to the shock of seeing her again.
Surely that was all it was, shock. Not dismay. Or disappointment.
“No,” she said finally. “I was simply taking you up on your offer of a job.”
“Job offer?”
Oh, damn. Now he did look confused. She shouldn’t have come. Definitely should have stayed in San Diego. But she kept on talking, as if saying more would fix an already messy situation. “The one you made about that children’s software program you were planning to launch?” Suddenly the space seemed too confined, too hot, and regrets piled on her shoulders heavier than bricks. “But I can see I came at a bad time.” Oh, man, now she was repeating herself. “I should just—”
“No, no.” He reached for her, but didn’t connect. “Let’s take this somewhere more…quiet,” Linc said. “Have you eaten?”
What was with people trying to feed her? Molly’s stomach still had a rebellious streak going strong, made worse by the conversation and her nerves, but she shook her head, if only to escape the clear curiosity running through the other people in the offices around them. And find a way to get out of here. “No, I haven’t.”
Linc closed the distance between them and put a hand against her back—a light touch, nothing more than a guiding glance, but it set off a firestorm of memories in her. Of being with him in that bar, of the first time he’d touched her—
How they’d danced around, touching, for a halfhour that night, hands and fingers coming close, then drifting away, each of them wanting to make contact, neither daring to be the first, and then she had reached for her drink at the same time he had, and their fingers had collided. An instant electric explosion ignited in Molly, more powerful than any she had ever felt. She’d been a goner from that moment on, captured in Linc’s spell.
That same electric explosion, albeit slightly muted by the daylight, the other people and the businesslike surroundings, reignited in Molly as Linc guided her into the elevator. They rode down in silence, two among a dozen other people, then stepped out into the lobby and out of the Curtis Systems building. Once they reached the sidewalk his hand dropped away and a whisper of disappointment ran through her.
She shook it off. She wasn’t here to start a relationship with Lincoln Curtis. Under no circumstances did she want that. She had enough on her plate to deal with right now. Besides, she hardly knew the man. She couldn’t base any rational decisions on one night—made after a few drinks and a lot of hormones.
Not to mention, judging by his reaction at her sudden appearance, he wasn’t interested in her anymore. Whatever he’d felt that night had clearly dissipated in the two months since. She’d do what she came here for—work here long enough to get to know him, for the baby’s sake. And find some way of telling him about their child. Then go back to San Diego.
Nothing more.
She wouldn’t make the mistake of entangling herself again with a man who didn’t share her visions of the future. Who would give her less than a hundred percent.
Linc raised a hand, and in an instant a sleek black town car glided to a stop before them. The driver hopped out, came around and opened the door for them. Linc gestured for Molly to enter first, then he slid in behind her, settling on the seat close enough for her to feel the heat of his body, but not close enough to touch.
“Your own driver?” she said. “I’m impressed.” Once again, the differences between the Linc she’d met that night and the real Linc became readily apparent. The man she’d seen in the bar—had any of him been real? Who was the Lincoln Curtis sitting across from her? This stiff upper-lipped, wealthy, powerful CEO, not the average Joe she thought she knew two months ago.
What had he seen in her that night? And why hadn’t he told her the whole truth about his life when they’d met? Perhaps, she thought, he’d met too many people who heard the word millionaire and immediately saw dollar signs instead of Linc.
“Don’t be impressed, really,” he said. “The car and driver are a necessity. A time-saver.”
“Because driving your own car takes so much more time?” she joked.
“Because I can work while Saul drives.” Linc gestured toward a laptop set up on a small desk on the left-hand side of the car, beside a built-in phone and a small television screen.
The Linc in the bar had seemed so relaxed, so ordinary, and yet this Linc seemed the complete opposite. It was more than the suit and the chauffeured car. He carried himself differently. As if a world of responsibility lay on his shoulders.
As the car pulled away from the curb, she glanced back at the towering building of Curtis Systems and realized perhaps it did.
Had she read him wrong that night? Or had her memory grown fuzzy over the last two months?
No, it wasn’t that. He had definitely acted differently that night. The question was why.
“I thought you had a meeting to go to,” she said. “The receptionist mentioned you were tied up all afternoon. Seriously, I don’t mind coming back at a better time.”
“I do have a meeting. I am swamped today.” He let out a long breath, one that spoke of all those responsibilities. Then he looked over at her, as if he still couldn’t believe she’d shown up on his doorstep. “But it’s not every day that I receive…an unexpected visitor.”
“That’s a unique way of phrasing—” she was going to say our relationship, but they didn’t really have one, so she settled instead on, “the situation.”
“You caught me off guard today. I hadn’t expected to see you again.”
She caught the woodsy undertones of his cologne. In an instant she had an image of him from that night—simple pin-striped button-down shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled up. But more than the way he’d dressed, she remembered the way he’d kissed, a kiss that had set her on fire in a way she never had been before. He’d taken his time, his lips drifting slowly over hers, his hand cupping her jaw, as if he was—
“How did you find me?” Linc asked.
“It, ah…” Molly drew her attention back to the present, her face hot “…wasn’t that hard. There aren’t that many software companies in Vegas employing a man named Linc, at least according to Google. I didn’t know, however, that you owned Curtis Systems. I thought…” Her voice trailed off.
“Thought I was just a worker bee.” A smile crossed his lips and he opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else, but his phone rang, cutting off the sentence midstream. Linc let out a sigh, checked the caller ID, then apologized to Molly before answering the call. She heard him debating something about an architectural design for several minutes before he ended the call. Almost as soon as he hung up, his phone started in again. Linc sighed, then glanced at Molly. “Do you mind if I tie up a few loose ends before we go to lunch? This will only take a minute, I promise.”
“Not at all. I understand.”
He answered the first call, then placed several others, most of which Molly could tell from her one-sided interpretation were about cancelling the next few scheduled meetings and delegating responsibilities to other people within the company.
Linc didn’t waste a single second. He powered up the laptop, working both that and the cell at the same time, in record time. She heard him run down several task lists, make at least a dozen different decisions, review several accounting issues with his comptroller, and all without becoming stressed or overwhelmed. If anything, Linc seemed to thrive on the stress of his job, as if heaping more things on his plate made it easier for him to carry.
What a stark contrast between her simple world of five-year-olds learning colors and numbers and Linc’s of multi-million-dollar deals and corporate wrangling. Finally, he hung up, and closed the laptop. “Sorry about that.”
“A CEO’s job is never done and all that?” she said.
“Something like that.” Linc tucked the phone into the holster on his belt. At the same time, the town car slid to a stop in front of an Italian restaurant with a bright red awning and several outdoor bistro-style tables. Linc stepped out of the automobile and offered a hand to Molly.
When her hand slipped into his large, familiar grip, that same electric jolt she remembered ran through her. Almost as quickly as he touched her, he released her.
Because he’d felt the same thing? Or because he was only being polite?
Molly decided not to ask. She had her priorities—to gain a job, as well as information for the baby. Besides, hadn’t she learned her lessons with Doug? Long-term relationships and her didn’t go together well. The last thing she needed was involvement with yet another man who didn’t share her vision for the future, and already she would wager a guess that workaholic high-powered exec Lincoln Curtis wasn’t looking to settle down in a little bungalow in San Diego with a kindergarten teacher and a baby.
She refused to feel disappointed. She hadn’t come here with some happily-ever-after in mind. She and the baby would be just fine on their own, regardless of whether Lincoln Curtis ever wanted anything to do with her in the future.
A minute later, they were seated at a private booth in the back of the restaurant. “Would you like some wine?” Linc asked.
“Uh…no, thank you. I’ll just stick to water.” She shifted in her seat. “It’s early yet.”
“You’re right.” He didn’t say anything more about the wine, and she was sure he hadn’t guessed her real reason for turning down the alcohol. Warm garlic bread-sticks arrived with the water, then the waiter disappeared, leaving them alone.
Molly willed her queasiness to subside, and it did—just a little—with the bread. But still, she wasn’t so sure she’d be able to eat.
“So…why now?” Linc asked. “Why come see me today, after two months?”
A flush invaded her cheeks. Did he know? Did the pregnancy show on her face? Had someone told him?
She shook off the thoughts. She was just being paranoid. Linc’s question was legitimate, expected even.
She could tell the truth. She could tell him that she had thought about his eyes, his touch, a hundred, a thousand times since that night, but that would entangle the two of them together all over again, and Molly was far from ready for, or interested in, that. Especially when the feeling didn’t seem to be reciprocated.
“I didn’t come here to resurrect anything,” she said, deciding the best course of action was to lay everything straight. Immediately. Before anyone got the wrong idea, or the train got derailed any further. “I came here because I was interested in that software program you mentioned.”
Linc leaned back and draped an arm over the back of the booth. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”
“I thought it sounded so interesting. Interactive, inspires reading, while also teaching children about the great outdoors. Something that combines electronic learning and spurs interest in nature activities at the same time.”
That had been one of their first conversations, and part of what had perked her interest in Linc. They’d started out talking birthdays, which had led into her job, then into how frustrated she was with kids being so sedentary and not tuned in with their environment, which had segued into Linc’s software idea. Before she’d known it, she’d been wrapped up in his eyes, his voice, then his touch.
He’d been so excited about the software design, as if it was something personal. She’d enjoyed listening to him talk, and found his enthusiasm wrapping around her, too.
“That software…it was just an idea,” Linc said. “My company doesn’t really handle that kind of thing. We specialize in security packages for large corporations. Fraud prevention, hacker prevention, that kind of thing. The other program…that was a dream.”
“Sounded like you were pretty serious that night.”
“I…” He paused. “A long time ago, I used to think that was the kind of company I wanted to run. The kind of software I wanted to manufacture. But that’s not where the money is, and when you run a business you have to be practical. In fact, I ran the idea past my team recently, and they shot it down.”
Shot it down? He wasn’t going to do it?
She’d come all the way to Vegas with an insane plan. Clearly, she hadn’t thought it through enough. Or she’d completely misinterpreted what he’d said that night. She’d thought Linc had been serious about developing this software, and thus thought she would be the perfect one to help him implement the program, while at the same time getting to know her baby’s father.
She’d invested everything in this one option—with no backup plan. That alone was proof she still wasn’t thinking straight when it came to Lincoln Curtis.
It had to be the pregnancy hormones. Otherwise, why was she making such hasty choices?
“You have no plans to develop the program?” she said.
“I’d love to…someday.” His gaze went to some far-off place, and he didn’t say anything for a second, before he returned his gaze to her. “Why?”
Someday? She needed someday to be now.
She buried her attention in the menu. “No reason.” Then she gave up studying the list of pastas and insalatas. “It’s just…you sounded so excited when you talked about that program. It was as if that was the company you owned, not this one. In fact, that’s what I thought when I met you. When I arrived in Vegas, I was surprised to find out you made security systems.”
He sighed, and pushed his menu to the side. “A long time ago—”
He didn’t finish.
“A long time ago, what?”
The waiter returned and took their orders. Molly had barely looked at the menu, and just ordered one of the specials. Linc, who had clearly been here before, ordered a chicken and pasta dish.
“You started to say something before we were interrupted,” Molly said, once they were alone again. “What was it?”
Linc took the green paper wrapper off his napkin and folded it into a triangle, then popped the triangle out. “Know what this is?”
She laughed. “No.”
“To a kid, it’s a boat. A hat. A Christmas tree. The possibilities are endless.” He tipped the green cone onto the top of the salt shaker. It teetered, then balanced. “When I was a kid, I used to be like that. Everything I saw, I imagined into something else. My parents complained that I was always in my head, and never out in the world.”
“I bet you read a lot.”
He chuckled. “Everything I could get my hands on. I was a total bookworm. Still am.”
“Me too.” She grinned. “I love books.”
A smile whispered between them. “Something we have in common, then?”
“I’d say so.” Oh, she could feel that thread, that tenuous tether connecting them, just as it had that night. She tried to push it aside, to ignore the feeling. She didn’t want to build a bridge. Not between herself and Linc. She was here for the baby. Only. “Go on with what you were saying.”
“Well, my parents got tired of seeing me with my nose buried in a book twenty-four hours a day, so they shipped me off to a summer camp. One of those long, eight-week ones. My brother was there, too, but he was always the outdoorsy one. He took to camp like a duck to water.”
“And you didn’t?”
Linc snorted. “God, no. Took me seven of the eight weeks to fit in. But then one day a counselor noticed me reading instead of joining the other kids. He got me involved in a project, a camp diary thing. Creating a kind of written and photographed collage about camp that could be left behind for other campers. Sort of an intro to the best parts of camp.”
