Читать книгу Pregnant by the Cowboy CEO - Catherine Mann - Страница 9

Two

Hands jammed in his tuxedo pockets, Preston strode away from the barn to the resort cabin where he planned to spend the night. Most of the guests were either staying in the main lodge or in one of the bungalows scattered around the property.

He’d done his duty at the reception, put in an appearance. With luck, he could pull out his laptop and log some extra hours preparing for his upcoming business trip. He would try to numb his mind and body against the attraction. Just being near Amie at the wedding had desire pumping through him. He needed to come up with some kind of plan to work with her without this eating them both alive, but damned if he knew which way to turn. For now, burying himself in reports and numbers would have to do.

The reception was still going strong in the towering barn, music and conversation swelling out into the night. The lodge itself held two wings, one for family suites and the other for guests. Then the cabins offered larger, more private space, farther away from the din of the ongoing party.

A movement from the family quarters snagged his attention, a shadowy figure charging across a first-floor veranda. The moonlight cast a glow, illuminating the unmistakable silhouette of... Amie. She paused at the railing, scanning the grounds. She was looking for him—that was clear the second her gaze landed on him.

Her shoulders went back, her breasts straining at the strapless dress, teardrop earrings brushing her bare shoulders. She flicked her long hair over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing. She stomped down the porch steps, hem of her bridesmaid’s gown in her fists and hitched to her knees so she could storm closer all the faster. Something had lit her fuse. He wanted her attention back on him anyway.

He stopped in his tracks and waited. Anticipation pumped through him. Even mad, she was incredible, a sight not to be missed. Besides, there was something about knowing he got under her skin this much. That he’d put all that spark and fire inside her.

She stopped in front of him under the shade of a sprawling oak strung with white lights. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, enticingly. “Are you responsible for this?”

Responsible for what? He could hardly think with her so close, her heaving breasts nearly brushing his chest. He would only need to move one step closer. “You’ll need to narrow that down for me.”

“You said on the dance floor that we need to talk soon.” She jabbed him in the chest with one finger.

He grabbed her finger. “And you said our secretaries need to set up a lunch next week.”

“Did you know that couldn’t possibly happen? Did you pressure my grandmother into making me travel with you around the country this week?”

He dropped her hand. He didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. He was heading out for a week to launch a new line for Diamonds in the Rough, but he’d made no plans to take her along. Apparently she thought otherwise for some reason.

Still, that didn’t explain her angry reaction. They’d worked together for two months. Why was she so upset about this trip? He was missing something and he wasn’t sure what.

But he intended to find out. “Why would I go out of my way to insist on that?”

“For a week of repeats of our encounter in the coat closet two months ago.”

Righteous indignation steamed through him. “Have I pressured you in any way that would make you assume that I would disregard your wishes? Because I take the issue of sexual harassment in the workplace damn seriously.”

“No, you haven’t done anything inappropriate,” she acquiesced, chewing her full bottom lip. “But you sounded determined tonight. I just had to know if you’re manipulating me behind the scenes as well.”

Unable to resist taunting her, he stepped closer, letting his gaze linger on her mouth as their bodies brushed. “Should I have?”

A light flashed in the night sky and an appreciative murmur went up from a crowd gathered on the western lawn. The fireworks show had started to celebrate the nuptials.

“Quit twisting my words around.” She tipped her face toward him without backing down, her creamy skin lit by the purple-and-white lights sparking overhead. “I don’t like being played, that’s all.”

He swept a stray lock of silky dark hair over her shoulder, his knuckles skimming her soft skin, the teardrop earring cool across the top of his hand. “I take this to mean we’re going on a business trip together this week.”

The crowd watching fireworks cheered as a series of pops and bangs ended in a giant red heart burning into the cloudless Texas sky.

Her eyebrows pinched together, her gaze never wavering to watch the display. “You really don’t know about my grandmother’s plan for us?”

Gently, he gripped her shoulders and turned her so she could see the bright red heart before it faded. While she watched, he leaned closer to speak into her ear.

“I have no reason to lie to you.” In fact, he just wanted to open a dialogue with her so they could figure out how to work together—or resume the affair. He couldn’t help but wonder if part of the reason they kept sparking off each other was that they hadn’t let all that attraction run its course. “It’s been tough breaking through your walls these past two months, but I wouldn’t go to someone else to take care of that problem for me. And I certainly wouldn’t worry a terminally ill person with my concerns.”

She turned to face him again, giving him a clipped nod, some of the tension easing from her while the orchestra played a Mozart piece timed to coordinate with the explosions in the air.

He leaned back against the tree trunk and jammed his hands into his pockets and away from temptation. “Now catch me up to speed about what’s going on with this business trip, since it appears to involve us both and Diamonds in the Rough.”

“My grandmother has insisted that I accompany you for the unveiling of the new line to reassure the stockholders that the McNairs fully endorse your leadership.” Sighing, she perched a hand on her hip.

Preston’s gaze fell to her waist, the dips and curves of her so damn alluring his mouth watered. “That’s a sound business decision on her part. What’s the problem?”

He didn’t understand why she was so upset. She’d worked hard on the new line, had invested a lot of time and creative energy toward putting it together. She deserved to see the first public reactions to her work.

But she shook her head. Visibly upset.

“The problem is... She’s an amazing woman and I just want to do what she needs.” She blinked back tears, making her blue eyes shine in the reflected light from the soaring roman candles in a multicolored display. That sheen in her gaze made him want to hold her.

“Amie?” He resisted the urge to reach for her, half certain she would bolt. “Losing someone you love is not easy. I’m sorry about your grandmother’s illness.”

“Me, too.” She swiped her wrist over her eyes, smudging mascara. “So we’re traveling together this week for the unveiling tour. Just the two of us.”

“Apparently so.” He wondered what her grandmother was up to with this last-minute idea and why she hadn’t discussed it with him first. “To Los Angeles, New York City and Atlanta. It may be for the best. We have to figure out how to work together without all this tension.”

He had sensed that Amie was working on a private project these last few weeks and he wondered why she hadn’t shared any details. That kind of closed-off creativity didn’t benefit the larger company. He needed her communicating more.

Had that been Mariah McNair’s intent, to smooth the business waters before she passed away? It wasn’t such an odd wish. The woman did live, eat and breathe the business, even from her sickbed.

Amie crossed her arms over her chest, her breasts pushing even harder against the fabric. “We’ve been doing fine so far at the office.”

“Are you serious?” These had been some of the most tense workweeks in his life. He’d never had personnel problems—until now. Until her.

“Has my work performance been in any way substandard?”

“Of course not,” he admitted, not mentioning the way she’d retreated to her office for long periods at a time with her door closed. “But it would help workplace morale if you didn’t act like you want me dead.”

Her shoulders sagged, her eyes softening. “I do not want you dead.”

“Then how exactly do you want me?” He stepped closer, his eyes falling to her mouth, to her full lips. Amie McNair had a way of knocking the props out from under him by just walking into a room, and he was damn tired of tap dancing around the subject. He was too old for games.

The fireworks on the lawn churned faster, shot after shot popping and exploding, sending showers of sparks into the night sky. The fireworks reflected in Amie’s eyes as she stepped back, expression iced over again. “If we’re going to be away for a week, I should start packing.”

Turning, she marched across the grass, her beautiful body illuminated by white lights in the sky that turned on and off, on and off.

Just like Amie herself.

* * *

Amie was exhausted to her toes. Not just from the wedding but from the shocking talk with her grandmother to the confrontation with Preston.

She was truly going to spend a week alone with him.

Closing her bedroom door, she finally let her guard down. Kneeling, she held out her hands for her cats, a gray tabby in her lap, a Siamese at her feet, both hers, and Mariah’s two Persians as well. Yes, she was just shy of a crazy-cat-lady starter kit, but her furbabies brought her comfort. With a final stroke along each feline’s arched back, she stood. She’d loved growing up on a farm with animals all around, even if her room was far from rustic, a jewel box of a space, from the strands of multicolored glass beads around her bed, to the stained-glass insets in the high windows above her reading area.

Walking out of her shoes, she reached behind her to unzip the bridesmaid’s dress. She shimmied it down and kicked it aside. She sagged to sit on the edge of her bed. She flopped back on the bed, the silk of her camisole and tap pants soft against her skin still tingling from Preston’s touch. Damn it, she hated losing her composure. And to lose it twice in one night?

Her hand slid over her stomach. No baby bump yet, but soon more than just her breasts would be swelling. And her hormones were out of control, leaving her tearful most of the time and nauseated the rest of the time. Her figure would soon be evident to everyone. No more pageant jokes about her size.

She’d been the first runner-up in the Miss Texas pageant over a decade ago, reportedly the first beauty competition she’d lost since her mother had teased up her hair and sent Amie tap-dancing out on the stage at four years old. She’d “Good Ship Lollipopped” her way through puberty into bikinis and spray tans. Her mama had lived for her daughter’s wins.

She didn’t even want to think about her parents’ reaction to her pregnancy.

There wasn’t anything she could do about it tonight and she truly was exhausted. No matter how much she slept, her body demanded more. She reached on the bedside table for her mouth guard by the phone. Tension had made her grind her teeth at night since she was seventeen and entered higher-stakes pageants.

She’d already seen a doctor to confirm and start prenatal vitamins. The appointment had been scary and exciting at the same time. Preston deserved the opportunity to be a part of his child’s life from the start—if he wanted. She would have to tell him about the baby this week. It wasn’t fair to wait any longer. This was his child too. She would just have to find the right time. His reaction would also have a lot to do with how she presented the news to the rest of her family.

If only she knew him better, knew how he would react, how he would want to proceed. She was capable and prepared to take care of the baby herself. But she didn’t want her child to live with a father’s rejection.

She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in her pillow, wishing she could will herself to sleep faster.

The phone rang on her bedside table, jarring her. Was something wrong with her grandmother?

Flinging back the covers, she grabbed the receiver and pulled out her mouth guard. “Hello?”

“Amie?” her twin brother’s voice filled her ear. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” She tugged the covers back up again. “Why do you ask?”

“You left the reception before it was over. That isn’t like you.”

They always had been in tune with each other’s moods. Her brother wasn’t normally a chatty person, so for him to call, he must sense something was up. But she wasn’t ready to tell him. It wouldn’t be fair to tell anyone before Preston.

“Gran was tired, so I took her back to her room, then I decided to slip out. I did see the fireworks display though. It was a beautiful touch.” No way was she telling him about Gran’s test. He would worry, wonder—question. “I hope you don’t mind that I left the hosting duties to you.”

“Of course I don’t mind. We’re family. You’ve been carrying more than your fair share of the McNair face time for Hidden Gem business this past year. The reception was winding down by the time you left. Mother and Father were in their element entertaining anyway.”

“They do like to play the head-of-the-family role.”

Their parents lived off a trust fund, tightly managed by Gran’s lawyers. Their cousin Stone’s mother also lived off her trust fund, working to stay clean after multiple stints in drug rehab. Leaving the bulk of her estate to her grandchildren was a huge vote of confidence from Gran that Amie didn’t take lightly. Her grandmother’s respect meant everything to her.

Amie was determined to do better by her own child than her stage mom, Bayleigh. Without question, Mariah was the better role model.

Amie tucked the phone more securely under her neck. “Was there anything else?”

“What was up with you and Armstrong on the dance floor? Any progress getting along better with the new boss? He’s really not such a bad guy. We had a good time playing cards at the bachelor party.”

“Have you been talking to Gran?” she asked suspiciously.

“No, I just got to know him better with all the wedding parties this week. We talked some.”

“Talked about what?”

He laughed softly. “You sound nervous.”

The twin bond was sure a pain in the butt sometimes. “I’m not nervous. I’m just exhausted.” Really exhausted. She’d never been as tired in her life as she’d been the past few weeks. “Good night, Alex. Love you.” She hung up the phone and resisted the urge to pull the covers over her head.

Someone was going to guess soon and her secret would be out. She needed to control the telling.

* * *

Sunday morning, Preston waited beside the limo, outside the Hidden Gem Ranch. It wasn’t like Amie to be late. Ever. She was always one of the first at work and last to leave. But she’d kept him out here hanging around for over twenty minutes.

He definitely wasn’t accustomed to anyone making him wait. Maybe she was playing a mind game?

The door to her quarters opened and she backed out onto the veranda, her curvy bottom wriggling as she juggled her purse and some kind of bag. Turning, she faced him and started forward, wearing turquoise high heels, pencil jeans and a flowy white shirt with multiple strands of signature McNair necklaces. The long loops of her necklaces drew his eyes down her body, hinting at the curves that lay beneath the shirt.

As always, he braced for the fact she damn near took his breath away.

His eyes fell to the little pink leopard-print carrier that wobbled back and forth to the side as something fuzzy and shadowy moved around inside. He frowned. “I thought you said you were packing clothes? Not livestock.”

Stopping in front of him, she lifted up the frilly carrier. “Clearly this isn’t large enough for a horse. I sent my bags ahead to the airport. This is one of my carry-ons. It may come as a surprise to you, but I do not travel light.”

He opened the limo door for her. “You’re one of those types that takes a cute little dog everywhere.”

“Don’t let my cat hear you call him a dog. He hates that.” She slid into the long leather seat.

“You travel with a cat?” He dropped into the seat across from her and stared at the carrier beside her. This woman never failed to surprise him in every way possible.

“Are you saying cats miss their humans less than dogs?”

“No—” he chose his words carefully “—cats are more independent. More easily left on their own.”

“Well, I won’t be leaving this one.” Her chin tipped. “If you have a problem with that, you can be the one to call off the trip.” She flashed a thin smile at him. “Could you possibly be allergic?”

Was that her plan? To get him to bail? It would take a lot more than a feline to make that happen. Still, he couldn’t help digging. “I am not allergic to cats—or dogs, for that matter. But surely someone on the staff can handle that. You have other pets.”

“This one is special.” She unzipped the top and the fluffy Siamese’s head popped out. The cat yawned and stared at Preston with blue eyes just as intense as Amie’s. “He’s old and has diabetes. He needs his injections.”

Guilt kinked his neck. “I’m sorry for leaping to conclusions.” He shook his head. “But I have to confess, I still don’t get it. You have the money for fancy pet sitting, including injections. So you need his company? Don’t you have two or three other or a dozen other cats? There are varying accounts around the office of how many. How did you pick which one to bring?”

“Four. Just four,” she said tightly. “My other three cats are staying with Gran. But I only trust Johanna with this one since she’s a vet tech, and as you know, she is on her honeymoon. Other than her, there’s no one I trust to administer the medication who’s also familiar to Roscoe—”

“Roscoe? I thought your family named all people and animals after gems.” Her brother was actually Alexandrite and she was Amethyst. Even their horses had gemstone names.

“My grandmother and my parents did that with the names. I don’t. Trust me, learning to write Amethyst in preschool wasn’t easy. So, this is Roscoe. It fits.” She smoothed a hand over his head. “I know I could hire some high-end pet sitter for him, but his diabetes gets worse when he’s stressed, and when he misses me, he stresses.”

“We can’t have that happening.” He scratched a furry ear and the cat erupted into a low, humming purr.

“This is not a joke,” she snapped, hugging the carrier closer. “I couldn’t bear it if he passed away while I was gone. I’m important to him and he’s important to me.”

He rested his hand on her knee. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m just wondering if the cat is going to need jewelry for the galas too.”