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She hesitated a second too long before walking away toward the green galley kitchen. “I’m fine.”
He tracked her movements as she poured a glass of milk, her silky red hair swinging along her back and inviting his hands to test the texture, to discover if it was as soft as he remembered. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“I promise the baby and I are both totally healthy.” She lifted her glass in toast, her back still toward him.
She was dodging something, he was sure, but he could also sense she wouldn’t share more now. He would be best served by a temporary retreat before advancing his cause again in a few hours.
He was an ad guy, after all. He knew how to make a pitch, and for now, he needed to back off. The right opportunity would present itself.
Jason pulled the box out of his pocket and set it on the small butcher-block counter. “Just hang on to this for now. We don’t have to decide anything today.”
She eyed the box as if it contained a snake. “I already know there’s no way in hell we’re getting engaged, much less married.”
“Fair enough.” He nudged the box forward until it rested beside an apple-shaped ceramic cookie jar. “Save the ring for our kid.”
Turning toward him, she sagged back against the counter, her T-shirt with paint splatters hugging her pregnant belly—and her fuller breasts. “You seem sure it’s a girl.”
His eyes dropped back to her stomach, his own gut clenching tight as an image of a little girl with red curls filled his head. This baby was real and growing inside Lauren just an arm’s reach away. He’d barely had time to process the idea of being a father, much less see the proof so visibly. His hands itched to touch Lauren, to explore the differences in her.
To feel the baby kick?
His throat went tight. “It could be a boy, who’ll one day need an engagement ring to give some girl.”
She tipped her head to the side, her silky hair gliding over the rounded curves of her breasts. “Do you want a boy? Seems that most men prefer to have a son first.”
“Is that how things were with your dad?” His own father sure as hell had wanted a mini-version of himself, someone to mirror his every move, decision, thought.
Her face closed up. “This isn’t about my father.”
“Okay, then.” He gave in to temptation and stroked back a lock of her hair, sliding his hand away before she could protest. “You look beautiful but tired, and I seem to recall you saying something about needing to go to work.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead, resisting the urge to linger and, instead, making a beeline for the door. “Goodbye, Lauren. We’ll talk later.”
He stepped into the hall, her confused face stamped on his memory, fueling him in his decision to retreat for the moment, keep her off balance. She had doubts and he could play on those.
She may have said no this morning, but he wasn’t down for the count. Without question, by the time he took the last flight out on Sunday night, Lauren would be coming to California with his child.
Lauren pushed through the glass door leading into the fourth-floor offices that housed her graphic-design business. Not much space, actually, just a common room with tables, a receptionist desk by the door and her own office in back. Where she and Jason had made this baby.
At the moment she couldn’t blame the pregnancy for her churning stomach. Her insides swirled around like a Jackson Pollock color extravaganza.
The small velvet ring box seemed to weigh ten tons in her purse—a sack of a bag made from an old sweater she’d found at a consignment store. She’d packed up the jewelry so she could call Jason, schedule a lunch and return the ring. An engagement was a ludicrous idea.
She had enough on her plate, anyhow, finding a way to save her business from bankruptcy.
Franco, her secretary, passed her a stack of memo sheets. “Ms. Presley, your messages.”
“Thanks, Franco.” She forced herself to smile.
Lauren shuffled through the inch-thick pile; calls from prospective clients were mixed in with phone numbers from creditors.
Franco stood, smoothing down his NY Giants tie. “Before you go into your office—”
“Yes,” she answered, opening her door at the same time. The floral scent wafted out.
Franco shrugged and leaned back. “They were delivered just before you arrived. And, uh …”
His voice dwindled off in her mind as she turned to find her office packed with at least five vases of white rosebuds with pink and blue ribbons. On the corner of her desk, she saw a carafe of juice and basket of muffins. She spun back to hear what else Franco was saying.
Movement drew her attention to the far recesses of the reception area, where Jason lounged, assessing her with sexy, hooded eyes. How had she missed him when she came in? And why hadn’t Franco told …? Okay, so Franco had tried.
Lauren nodded Jason into her office. “Come on. You might as well eat with me.”
He shoved away from the wall, slowly, lean and lanky, like a predator cougar as he strode toward her. Franco, the new accountant and the two interns from NYU looked from Jason to her with undisguised curiosity.
Jason slid his arm around her waist. “I wanted to make sure the mother of my child is well fed and happy.”
She stiffened under his touch. Damn his presumptuous ass. Just that fast he’d announced their relationship to the world. Well, not the world, but to her employees and three waiting clients.
“The baby and I are fine, thank you.” She planted a hand in the middle of his back and pushed. “Can I speak with you in my office, please?”
“Of course, dear,” he said with smooth affection and a charming smile that had the two interns giggling and blushing.
She closed her office door, sealing her in the room with Jason. Alone. With the turquoise sofa. With a host of memories.
Lauren opened the white metal blinds and let the sun blast through. Not that it did much to defuse her anger. “What the hell was that all about?”
“Only letting people know I care about you and our child.” He picked up a fat blueberry muffin. “Breakfast?”
“I’ve already eaten. Don’t you think you should have checked to see if I’d told the folks at work about the baby?”
He paused. “You’ve told them. You’ve been on sick leave.”
“Fine, you’re right. But the clients in the waiting area didn’t know, and this is my announcement to make to the world when I’m darn well ready.”
“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” He waved the muffin closer, near enough for her to catch a whiff. “Now would you like something to eat? The bakery made them fresh this morning. I saw them come out of the oven.”
She wanted to tell the pushy man what he could do with his muffins. But damned if she wasn’t starving all over again as she looked at those plump blueberries straining at the sides, the sweet crumble topping making her lick her lips in anticipation. While she loved her baby, sometimes she really resented these hormones that seemed to have such Herculean control over her body.
That same hormonal storm was making her go all teary-eyed over the flowers and food because, God, this was what first-time parents did for each other. The past few months had been so damn hard without the support of a partner. She didn’t even want to think about how difficult the coming months—years—might be.
For now she just wanted to enjoy her muffin.
Her feet carried her closer, until she stood toe to toe with Jason. Sniffing back her tears, she could smell him and the flowers and the muffin, and, gracious, but all of it smelled mouthwateringly good. Jason pinched off a piece and brought it to her lips. She parted for him before she could think, pretty damn much the way she’d done on that sofa four months ago.
What was it about this man that made her act so out of character? She wasn’t wildly impulsive like her erratic mother. She had control over her emotions. Except for a most memorable lapse around Jason.
She took the bready bite and her senses exploded with pleasure over the sweet fruit melting on her tongue. Jason’s thumb traced along her bottom lip, stroking, stirring a whirlpool of want inside her until her breasts tightened in response beneath her brown wool sweater-dress. She arched up on her toes inside her burnt-orange pumps, a whisper away from his mouth—
A knock rattled her office door.
“What?” Her voice came out breathy and impatient. She didn’t move. Neither did Jason, the heat of his brown eyes sizzling through her.
The knocking continued, more insistent now. Lauren cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes?” she said, stepping back, not a hundred percent sure who that “yes” was for. “What do you need?”
Jason smiled, wicked and sexy as if to say exactly what he needed. Here. Now.
Lauren clasped the doorknob, willing her professional composure back into place. “What can I help you with?”
She found the grandmotherly accountant she’d hired to sort through the financial mess. The brisk woman waited, hand raised for another knock. Talk about a splash of ice-water reality to douse her passion! She needed to tend to this now, but didn’t need Jason to hear.
Lauren said, her voice low, “I’ll be with you in five minutes.”
The accountant tucked the files against her chest. Her keen eyes proclaimed loud and clear that no one would steal cookies from the jar on her watch. “Good, good. We can go over the preliminary financial statement, with a list of the most pressing creditors.”
“Of course.” She glanced at Jason, nerves gnawing. She needed him gone. “Jason, we’ll have to talk later. Tonight, after work.”
He frowned. “Creditors?”
“It’s not your problem,” she said, dodging his question.
His chest expanded in a manner she’d come to recognize as territorial. “You’re the mother of my child. If something pertains to you, it’s my problem too.”
She angled toward the accountant. “I’ll meet you in your office in five minutes.”
Lauren closed the door and leaned back against it, facing Jason. The genuine concern in his eyes caught her off guard. She was so on the defensive these days, she’d all but forgotten what a champion he could be. In their year as friends, more than once she’d seen him go to the mat for someone else—a guy fired unjustly, a woman with a stalker boyfriend, even taking on the account of a company pro bono when he’d learned the owner’s kid had inordinately high medical bills.
Jason Reagert was pushy, but a goodhearted kind of pushy. It wasn’t surprising he’d found his way to military service for so many years.
She could cut him some slack while still keeping her boundaries in place. “It will be public knowledge soon enough when charges are filed, so you might as well know. My accountant, the one before this new lady, embezzled half a million dollars from my company.”
His eyebrows shot up toward his dark hairline. “When did this happen?”
“While I was working from home.” She pushed away from the door and sagged to sit on the sofa, suddenly weary all over again. If she couldn’t tell the guy who’d knocked her up, who could she tell? “I had some suspicions about Dave just before I got sick and planned on firing him. Then I spent a week in the hospital for dehydration. I was relieved when he turned in his resignation. I gave him two weeks’ paid vacation and had him escorted out of the office. Three days later I hired a new accountant, the one I should have hired in the first place, but I was trying to save money.” She shrugged. “I guess it’s true that you get what you pay for.”
He sat beside her, not touching, not crowding her for once since he’d shown up on her roof. “I’m so damn sorry.”
“Me, too.”
“No wonder you were upset this morning.” He clasped his hands loosely between his knees, his Rolex glinting in the light shining through the open blinds. “You don’t need this kind of worry, especially when you’re pregnant. Let me help.”
So much for not crowding her. “Whoa, back up. I may be in trouble, but I’ll handle it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with accepting help.” He stretched his arm along the sofa back, wrapping her in his scent if not his arms. “In fact, that’s why I’m here. I need your help.”
“With what?” she asked warily, wondering if she was talking with the altruistic Jason, who went to the mat for people.
Or the shark of an ad man who won accounts through his unerring ability to make people believe anything he said.
“I’m new at Maddox Communications and times are tight. No job is secure.” His chocolate-brown eyes seemed sincere, intense.
“I can understand that.”
“I’m not sure how much you know about MC….”
“It’s a family-owned business.” She hadn’t worked with Maddox before, but the grapevine said they’d hooked some hefty clients. “Run by two brothers, right?”
“Right, Brock Maddox is the CEO and Flynn is the vice president. The one thing standing in the way of the company’s domination out West is Golden Gate Promotions.”
“That’s a family-owned advertising business, too, isn’t it?” She relaxed into the sofa, more comfortable in their familiar ground of talking shop. “Athos Koteas still runs the show. I haven’t worked with him, but I’ve heard he’s quite a force to be reckoned with. Absolutely ruthless.”
“But successful.” His arm on the back of the sofa radiated a warmth that made the roots of her hair tingle. “He’s a Greek immigrant who made quite a splash, which brought in many European connections to give his company a leg up in these tough last few years. Now he’s trying to encroach on Maddox’s clients.” His face went tight with irritation. “He’s put some rumors out there to make Maddox Communications seem untrustworthy and now they’re losing business. It’s causing Brock even more headaches.”
“Are you regretting the move to California?”
“Not at all. Things are going better at work. I’ve brought in some new clients, one big fish in particular. But that client is extremely conservative. You may have heard of him—Walter Prentice.”
Holy crap. “Congratulations, Jason. That’s amazing. Landing Prentice isn’t just reeling in a big fish. The Prentice account is a freaking whale.”
“A whale with the motto Family Is Everything. Prentice fired his last ad guy for going to a nude beach.” Shaking his head, Jason pulled his arm back. “He disowned his only granddaughter for not marrying the father of her baby.”
Wait, he couldn’t really be suggesting … “You can’t expect me to believe they’ll fire you because you have a pregnant ex-girlfriend.” Okay, so she’d never been his girlfriend. But still. She flopped back on the sofa. “Give me a break.”
He held up both hands. “I’m serious as a heart attack. The guy’s offering up a seven-figure ad campaign in tough economic times. He gets to call the shots and choose whoever he wants.”
She eyed her bag with the ring inside—a ring that hadn’t been romantic at all. It hadn’t even been offered out of old-fashioned chivalry. He wanted to keep his job.
A cold core grew heavy in the middle of her chest. “You’re that ambitious.”
“Aren’t you?” He leaned closer, eyes intent. “You and I are like-minded. We both want to prove to our families we can make it without their help. So let’s work together for the good of our kid.”
“Leave my parents out of this!” she snapped before she could think, but her heart hurt when it totally shouldn’t have. She knew better than to expect anything from Jason. There had never been talk of feelings between them.
In fact, she preferred her life be less emotional. Less like her mother.
“Fine,” he conceded, “it’s not about our parents. We’ll make this about securing our baby’s future by securing our own. I need you to agree to a temporary engagement, just until I’ve finished with the Prentice account. I’ll give you the money you need to tide over your business until you regain your footing.”
He was starting to make sense and that scared her. She shoved to her feet, pacing, restless. “I don’t need your money. I just need time.”
“You can call it a loan if it makes you feel better. A half million, right?”
She toyed with the strap on her purse, all too aware of the ring inside. His offer of money made it all sound so awful. “Do you know what would really make me feel better?”
“Name it.” He walked up behind her, quietly, looming without touching. “It’s yours.”
She spun to face him. “If you took your almighty money and—”
“Okay, okay, I get the picture. You’re not interested in saving your company.”
She jammed her arm elbow-deep in her purse and fished out the ring. “I’m not interested in handouts.”
