Читать книгу The Boss's Baby Mistake - Raye Morgan - Страница 11

Gayle’s chest felt as though it would explode. Her hands clenched the edge of the table and she stared at Jack, aghast.

“What?” she said breathlessly, her eyes round as saucers. “What?”

“I’m sorry. I thought you understood, or I would have explained sooner.”

Her heart skipped a beat and then began to pound like a drum, shooting adrenaline through her system. She needed to escape—again. The phrase “Out of the frying pan, into the fire” came to mind. She reached for her purse and slid out of the booth. “Stay away from me,” she warned, glaring at the man. “Keep your distance.”

He was shaking his head as he gazed at her, and the look of sympathetic understanding was quickly replaced by an expression of cool exasperation. “I’m sorry, Gayle,” he said, just as calm and sure with her as he’d been with the doctors. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. You’re carrying something that belongs to me.”

She stood at the edge of the table, staring down at him. “What?” she said, outraged. “I…you have no right…”

“Oh yes, I do.” He gestured with a nod of his head. “Sit back down. We need to deal with this in a rational manner.”

Rational? What was rational about this impossible situation? She shook her head. “I’m going home,” she announced firmly, though she still hadn’t started away from the table. Something about the man was holding her here, even though he wasn’t touching her. “If you have anything to tell me, you can write me a letter.”

He sighed, his dark eyes clouding. “Calm down,” he told her. “You’re not going anywhere. I definitely can’t let you drive yourself home when you’re so upset.”

She blinked, clutching her purse to her chest. “Let me? What possible business is it of yours?”

“It is very much my business. You’re carrying my child. I don’t want that baby hurt.” He made a gesture of forbearance and gave her a hard look. “If you insist on passing up the great food this place has to offer, I’m going to have to do the same, and drive you home myself.”

She stared at him as he unfolded his long, muscular frame and stood before her. Gayle was tall for a woman, but she only came up to his shoulder. He started to reach out to take her arm, but she jerked away, and the look in her eyes seemed to stop him from trying again. He looked down at her with a half smile, more bemused than angry.

“Gayle, we are going to talk this through. We can either do it at your house or we can do it here. Since you hardly know me, I would think you would prefer it in a public place.” He shrugged. “But the location is up to you. You choose.”

Something visceral told her to believe everything he said. She wasn’t used to dealing with this sort of man. Her father had been a lovable teddy bear who would shower his daughter with presents—even if it often was to make up for having left her alone so much. Her husband had been hesitant and diffident, willing to let her take the lead in most choices and judgments.

But this man, this Jack Marin, was a different breed entirely. She could see that he was tough, that he was used to making decisions swiftly and following through on threats. She searched his ebony eyes and couldn’t find any hint of uncertainty. If she didn’t let him drive her, he would follow her home. She knew that as well as if he’d told her so. He wanted to discuss this issue between them, and it was going to be discussed. Simple as that.

Slowly, she sank back down into her seat at the table. She wasn’t about to give in to anything he wanted. But for now, she was going to play along and see just exactly what his demands were going to be.

“All right,” she said evenly, lifting her chin. “Let’s talk.”

Jack slid back into his own seat and looked across the table at her, doing a quick reassessment of his situation. He knew what he wanted. He wanted his son. That was as important to him as anything had ever been. Ordinarily, he was used to making things happen the way he wanted them to. But in this instance, he didn’t have the control he would have liked. What he yearned for was inside the body of another human being. That made it tricky.

He watched her, studied her, glad that she was easy on the eyes. Then he looked away quickly when he realized what he was doing. He wondered if she’d noticed. But he couldn’t help it. This was the mother of his son. He wanted to become familiar with every detail.

He liked her lustrous auburn hair. And her wide blue eyes. And the dimple that had disappeared now that she wasn’t smiling any longer. He wanted to ask her about her family background, about illnesses, talents, foibles. What was her father like? Any insanity in her family? Curly hair? Twins? Musical ability? All the questions inside him he would have to hold back for now. If he pushed too hard, she would only retreat again. He had to play this just right.

It seemed it was going to take skill and tenacity to end up with what he wanted. This elegantly tall and graceful woman sitting across from him was no pushover. There was spirit in those azure eyes and evidence of a certain fire in the set of her lush, beautiful mouth. But he’d dealt with women before. He could handle her, too.

The advantage he figured he had was that he knew from experience women were not to be trusted. As far as he was concerned, it went right back to Adam and Eve, and it was the same story over and over again. The woman held out temptation, the gullible man reached for it and she casually cut him off at the knees. It was a pattern that had been repeated often in his own family. His mother had put his father through hell, then left him. Not having learned from example, Jack himself had married the girl of his dreams, he’d thought, only to be plummeted by the reality—a woman who promised everything and left him with less than nothing. He’d finally wised up, when it was too late. But that wouldn’t ever happen to him again. He would make sure of that.

There were relationships in this world that truly mattered to him. He even had a sister whom he adored. But they were the exceptions. He’d found that most women had to be watched every moment. They were like Siamese cats, sleek and beautiful—and ready to sell you out for a better offer at any time. You had to watch your back.

“I don’t bite,” he told Gayle after they had sat in silence for a good two or three minutes. “At least, not until I get to know a woman better.”

She glared at him, just to let him know she didn’t appreciate his jokes at a time like this, and he grinned back at her.

“Hey, we’re both in this together,” he said, his dark eyes sparkling with a brittle light. “Why are you looking at me like I’m the enemy?”

She held his gaze. Funny how his smile didn’t seem to reach his eyes any longer. “You’ve got to admit, you’re the closest thing to an enemy I’ve got,” she said evenly. “I was living my life very peacefully when you intruded.”

He studied her face. “Would you rather not have known what happened?”

She thought for a moment, considering. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She fidgeted with her fork, then looked up at him again. “Just exactly what is it that you want?” she asked bravely, though she was completely terrified of the answer she was sure he would give.

He didn’t answer directly. Instead, he began working with the cheese and crackers, and said, “I didn’t plan to have things turn out this way. This was no more in my game plan than it was in yours. I contracted for a service, nothing more.” He put down the cheese knife and looked into her eyes, his own hard as stones. “The outcome is what is important to me. I intend to end up with my son. That’s all.”

She suddenly felt short of breath. She’d known this, of course. It had been obvious from the moment he’d told her who he was. But she couldn’t accept it. The thought that he could even imagine she might consider letting him have her baby… She would never give up her child. Didn’t he know that? Couldn’t he guess? Looking toward the exit, she longed to get away.

“Bottom line,” he said almost too softly, “is that you’ve got something we both want.”

She swallowed hard and looked away again, avoiding his gaze. He was right. She did have something they both wanted. And yet, at the moment, she wasn’t sure what she really had.

This was no longer the little boy she had imagined. There was no chance now that he would have Hank’s gray eyes, or his offbeat sense of humor, or his slender build. The father of her child was entirely different now. He would have bits and pieces of the large, strong, arrogant man across from her. Would that have any effect on how she felt about the baby? She didn’t think so…but how could she know for sure at this point?

Her hands went to her belly again, fingers spread as though to sense any new vibrations. She felt a small movement, then a definite kick against one palm. And a warm wave of such overwhelming love swept through her that she almost had to smile. No, it made no difference. She would love her son no matter what he looked like, what his personality turned out to be. How could a woman carry a baby for nine months and not love it? A feeling of peace came over her. She knew what the outcome of this problem would be. Now all she had to do was find a way to get this man to accept it.

“This is really pointless,” she told him simply. “I’ll never give up my baby. I don’t care what kind of contract you have. That’s between you and the lab. It has nothing to do with me.”

He merely gave her one of those smiles that left his eyes cool and confident. “Would you like another sherbet drink?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you. Plying me with fancy drinks won’t help change my mind, you know.”

She sighed. He wasn’t going to get what he wanted, but he was going to make her fight for every inch, that was clear. He wanted a son. But he hadn’t said anything about a wife, or asked what she wanted. Gayle had a sudden premonition. If there was a wife involved, he would have mentioned her by now. What if there wasn’t a wife?

“Are you married?” she asked abruptly.

A look of pure challenge flashed in his dark eyes. “No,” he said at last, reluctantly.

That was what she’d thought. What a mystery this man was. Still, she had to admit he was awfully good-looking. Despite the antagonism between them, she felt a strong pull of attraction. She remembered the feeling she’d had when her gaze had met his in the elevator, and she knew that electricity was simmering just below the surface even now. If she dropped her guard, she would feel it again. There was something masculine in him that she couldn’t help but respond to. But she had to remember that he was the enemy.

She studied him from under her lashes. His dark hair was cut fairly short, as though he was trying to tame a tendency toward crisp curls that she could detect along his neckline. His profile was strong, and his dark eyes were deep and gorgeous. But the feature that struck her most strongly was his mouth. He had the sexiest mouth she’d ever seen. It looked like it had been created just for kissing. The thought of kissing it sent a sudden surge of sensation through her and she dropped her gaze quickly, willing herself not to blush. That would be a sign of weakness she couldn’t risk.

She finally glanced back into his eyes and congratulated herself on how cool and calm she’d managed to be. “Why don’t you explain just exactly what you want with a child when you have no wife to help you raise him?” she demanded.

His expression was guarded. “I will explain that to you. But not yet.” He waited a moment as the waiter refilled their water glasses. “We need to get to know each other first.”

He made this sound like a long-term relationship. She had no intention of letting it go any longer than this day, this meal. “And how do you propose we go about doing that?” she asked impatiently.

He looked very sure of himself. “We’ll eat a meal. Look at each other across the table. Talk about this and that.” He let a glint of humor appear in his gaze. “Give each other a smile now and then.”

So that was it. Her mouth turned down in a cynical frown. “You’re counting on your charm to bowl me over, aren’t you?”

He laughed, and it lit up his dark face. “No, Gayle. I have a feeling it would take more than my charm to bowl you over.” His smile faded. “I’m counting on facts and logic.”

Facts and logic. Facts and logic!

“You know, this whole thing is still very unreal and very scary to me,” she said after the waiter took their order and walked away. “Just a few hours ago I was carrying my husband’s child. And now…” Her voice wavered and trailed off as a surge of emotion surprised her.

He cleared his throat. “I heard about what happened to your husband. I’m very sorry.”

“Are you?”

He frowned at the question. “Yes. Of course.”

She took a deep breath and continued. “I thought I still had a piece of my husband—” Her voice broke and she shook her head, annoyed with herself. The one thing she didn’t want to do was to cry in front of him. But she couldn’t stop herself from adding softly, “Now I don’t have anything.”

He stared at her and had to admit she was getting to him. He saw her huge eyes brim with sparkling tears, then watched as she forced them back. He felt like he should do something. But what? Take her in his arms? That had a certain appeal, but he didn’t think it would be appropriate at this point. His ex-wife had used the tears ploy so often he’d actually grown hardened to it. But Gayle was either a very good actress or she really was upset.

Abruptly, he felt contrite. Hell, the woman had lost her husband, and now she was facing the prospect of losing her baby. Of course she was upset. What was he thinking? Maybe he should…well, reach out and take her hand, at least. He looked at it, lying on the table, the fingers long and delicate, the nails rounded and silvery-pink. And suddenly he wanted to hold it, wanted to comfort her. He started to reach out, but at the same moment, she put her hand in her lap.

“I am really very sorry for your loss,” he said instead, after giving her a moment to compose herself.

When her gaze met his again, her eyes were clear. “Thank you,” she said calmly.

He felt a sense of relief. She was okay. She wasn’t going to break down. He was glad of that, not wanting to go soft on her. He had to keep his mind on what this was all about. She was very pretty, and seemed actually to be a very nice person. He liked her spirit, liked the way she smoothed back her beautiful mahogany hair and set her full lips, as though she was making up her mind to do something that was difficult for her. Under any other circumstances, he might even be attracted to her. Except that—hell, how could he forget?—she was seven months pregnant. Funny how he seemed to lose sight of that when he looked at her. He’d never been attracted to a pregnant woman before. He wasn’t sure that he liked it.

“This is hard on you right now,” he said gruffly. “And I’m sorry for that. But we don’t have the luxury of a lot of time. We’ve got a baby coming and we have to get things settled. Because…you see, what you do have is…part of me.”

Her eyes widened and he added quickly, “I know that isn’t what you want. But it’s the truth. And you know, if you think about it, that should make this so much simpler for you.”

“Simpler? How?”

“The baby you’re carrying isn’t what you wanted any longer. But it is exactly what I want.” He saw the shock in her eyes and he added, “I’m sure you’ll marry again. There will be other chances for you to have…well, another baby.” And he watched for her response, hoping to see if his arguments were making any sort of dent in her resolve.

She was pale and looked furious. There, you see? he thought with resignation. Logic and facts never seem to go over very well with women. Go figure.

“You’re suggesting I resign myself to having another baby?” she echoed, the outrage flashing in her eyes. Looking at Jack, she forced herself to hold back her anger and make conversation instead of blowing up at him. “What do you do for a living?” she asked shortly.

“I’m a geologist,” he responded. “How about you?”

“I’m a Web designer,” she said absently. “But I’m unemployed right now.” She looked at him. “How about a short biographical sketch?”

“Why not?” he said, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. “I was born on the family ranch in Santa Ynez, a ranch my father still works today. It was originally a Spanish land grant, established in 1820. A lot of Marins have come down the pike since then, a lot have worked that ranch.” He threw her a direct look. “Seven generations of Marins have lived in the Santa Ynez Valley. I plan to make it eight.”

He went on as their food was served and they began to eat, talking about growing up on the ranch, about his rebellious decision to go into geology instead of ranching, his father’s anger at his choice. He gave her a sketchy picture of his failed marriage and let her know he had no intention of repeating a mistake like that ever again.

She listened quietly, completely forgetting her anger. She ate sporadically from her salad and sipped her iced tea, but she didn’t taste a thing. His words were simple, but she was touched by the raw yearning she thought she could hear in them.

When he finished, she gave him a short version of her own life, how she’d been raised in Alaska and had married her father’s best friend and business partner right after her father’s death. How they had moved to California and she’d gone to technical school rather than college and learned computer programming and Web design. How her husband’s health had failed right when they had finally succeeded in conceiving a child. Or thought they had.

And all the time, she was wondering how any woman could have left a man like this. But of course, there had to be things about him that she didn’t have a clue about. And maybe she was being a sucker, falling for his sad tale. Maybe. All she knew was, if she’d had a chance at a man like Jack when she was younger, she’d have leaped tall buildings to get at it. Or climbed tall mountains, considering she’d been in Alaska. She’d married so young, and after such an isolated life, she’d never had a chance to do any dating. And later, even though she’d met many more men at work, she’d never felt comfortable with the sort of flirting other women seemed to fall into naturally with any attractive man. She was a married woman, after all.

Then she it hit her; she wasn’t married at all, not anymore.