A Pregnancy, a Party & a Proposal

“Hey, I can take a hint when it slaps me in the chest.”

“I’m sorry.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “I’ve been such a brat.”

He tightened his arm around her waist. “No more than usual.”

She laughed. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Is it working?” He laid his cheek against the silk of her hair. “Should I brave another invitation to move indoors?”

She pulled her head back, eyed him speculatively. “To the laundry room? There are more comfortable rooms available inside, if you’re truly interested in tempting me.”

“Hey, I have fond memories of you in a laundry room.” He kissed a path to her ear. “Remember?”

She sighed. “I remember. It wasn’t one of my finest moments.”

“Oh, I disagree.” He twirled her and brought her back against him. “You were more than fine—you were extremely hot.”

“My parents were playing poker in another room!”

“You wild child, you.”

She grinned. “It was rather naughty.”

“Excellent.” Blood surged hot through his veins. “Let’s go.”

With her hand in his, he started off the dance floor.

“Stop.” She dug her heels in. “Fun as this is...” she waved between them “...there’s no future to it. I can’t keep dodging into closets with you.”

“Why not?”

“I’m a responsible adult. I have to think of...my reputation. Eventually someone is going to notice if we keep disappearing together.”

He scowled, positive that wasn’t what she’d been going to say. “Dynamite, this is Hollywood—being seen with me can only up your reputation.”

“Humble, much?” She shook her head. “Seriously, whatever was between us is over.”

He stood watching her walk away, appeased only slightly by the look of regret he’d seen in the depths of her eyes.

* * *

This night was never going to end. Lauren gathered empties and carried them to the tray near the bar. And turned to be confronted by the bride.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing.” Lauren fought the urge to hide her hands behind her back. She waved them instead. “See? Nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” Tori grabbed one of her hands and drew it close as she wrapped her arm around Lauren’s. “Because it’s my day, I’ll pretend I didn’t see you clearing the tables.”

“Forgive me. Blame it on habit.”

“Only because I had to stop myself from doing the same thing twice.”

“Oh, that would never do.”

“That’s what Garrett said.”

As they neared the dance floor Lauren demanded, “Where are you taking me?”

“Here.” Tori drew her right into the middle of the dancers swaying to a soft ballad. “I’ve danced with all my favorite people today except one. You.”

Lauren’s stomach jolted at the idea of swirling to music even as her heart overflowed with joy. She stepped into her sister’s arms and hugged her close. If she moved slowly enough she’d be fine.

“Be happy,” she whispered. “More than anything, I hope for your happiness.”

“I am. Happier than I’ve ever been,” Tori assured her. “Garrett gets me.”

“And you get him. It’s why you click.”

“I want this for you.” Tori’s eyes glittered with happiness, with a need to share her bliss with the world. Her gaze flitted to the head table, where Garrett and his best man lounged back with a couple of beers. “Maybe you and Ray?”

“Oh, no.” Lauren automatically shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint, but that’s ancient history.”

“Why?” Tori challenged. “Because he causes you to act spontaneously? To have a little fun? I think he’s been good for you.”

“Good for me?” She laughed. Oh, he did wonderful things to her. But good for her? Not by a long shot. “Think about it. He’s a master manipulator.”

“He’s a director,” Tori reminded her. “It’s what he does, not who he is. He’s not Brad, Lauren. He’d never hurt you.”

Easy for Tori to say. Lauren would rather not risk it. Something told her Ray’s power to hurt would put Brad to shame.

“Ladies, you make such a pretty picture we had to come join you.” Garrett smoothly stepped between them and brought their linked hands to his mouth, where he kissed the back of Lauren’s fingers before twirling her around and passing her over to Ray.

Her world spun as he moved off with Tori.

“Hey.” Ray’s strong arms held her steady. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. No.” She leaned her forehead on his chest, prayed for her stomach to settle. No such luck. “I’m going to be sick.”

Lifting her skirts, she took off at a run. And, oh, goodness, she wasn’t going to make it. But then a hard arm curved around her back and swept her along. She reached the bathroom off the kitchen with no time to spare.

Ray held her hair while she emptied her stomach. She was mortified—and grateful. She wanted him to go but was also glad he was there.

“I’m so sorry.” She flushed and slowly lifted her head. Wait—why was she apologizing? It was his kid causing this inconvenience! A fact he was sure to catch on to with this display.

“No need to be. We’ve all had a tad too much bubbly at one point or another.” He pressed a damp cloth into her hands.

She lifted it to her face, reveled in the coolness. When she lowered the cloth he held a dripping bottle of water out to her. She gratefully accepted it.

“Oh, man, I could kiss you right now.”

He smiled and tucked a loose tendril behind her ear. “Sorry, Dynamite. All trips to the laundry room have been cancelled for the night.”

CHAPTER TWO

A TRILL OF BEEPS sounded from Ray’s phone. And another, and another. He ignored them as he navigated the hill to his Malibu home. He’d skipped out on the post-wedding breakfast. With Garrett gone, Ray’s duties were done. No need for him to linger. Nope, he was happy to put all things wedding-related behind him.

Another beep. Sounded like media alerts. He guarded his privacy, so he liked to stay on top of his media exposure. Such as it was. Better, in his opinion, to be on top of an issue than blindsided by it. With that in mind he had an assistant producer set to tell him whenever his name appeared in the news. Being best man at a major Hollywood wedding—an outdoor wedding, at that—would probably have the darn thing beeping all day long.

Once he reached his place, he dumped his garment bag at the bottom of the stairs, set his camera case on the foyer table, and wandered into the living room. He aimed the remote at his sixty-inch TV and powered it up. He’d barely tuned in to a basketball game before his phone beeped again.

He picked it up and started flipping through the alerts. Just as he’d thought, most were about the wedding. Pictures were already plastered across the internet. Distant and grainy, most gave a sense of the event but the people were unrecognizable unless you knew who they were—which would suit millions of viewers just fine.

A few obviously came from within the event. Garrett would have a fit about that.

Ah, crud. Just his luck—one of the up close and personal shots was of him bent over Lauren, kissing her neck. The look on her face spoke of wistful desire. So she hadn’t been as indifferent as she’d pretended.

Too bad the knowledge wasn’t worth the hassle it would bring. The photo had already gone viral. And, yep, right on cue his phone rang. The ringtone, an Irish ditty, announced that his grandmother waited at the other end.

“Hello, Mamó. How are you on this bright winter morning?”

“What do you know of winter? I saw on the news it’s seventy degrees in Los Angeles. We’ve snow up to our knees. That’s winter.”

“I hope you aren’t shoveling the drive again? I hired someone to keep the drive and walk clear.”

“Wasted money.” Annoyance flashed down the line. “We don’t need it more than half the time.”

“That’s not the point.” His brows drew together. It wasn’t like Mamó to be grouchy. Thrifty, yes, but generally good-natured. He sought to distract her. “What do you have planned for your birthday?”

“Oh, they’re making a fuss and I don’t want it.”

“They” being his aunt Ellie and his cousin Kyla.

“Nothing special about being another year older when I have nothing to show for it.”

Knowing she meant great-grandkids, he dropped his head onto the back of the sofa. Lately she’d been more and more verbal about her desire for him to settle down and start a family.

“Are they taking you out to dinner?”

“No. They have a party planned at the community center. I keep telling them it’s a waste of space and time.”

“Everyone loves you, Mamó. I’m sure the place will be packed with your friends.”

“It is difficult these days. My friends like to crow about their grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I have nothing to share.”

“Mamó...”

“I know you don’t want to hear this. But it is my life.”

He frowned over the despair in her voice. He’d never heard her so depressed.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop.” A loud sigh blew in his ear. “Listen to me rant. Forgive an old woman her bitter babbling. I miss you, my boy. It would cheer me greatly if you could come to my party.”

“A visit?” he mused. He might be able to manage that. A trip would help him to put Lauren out of his mind again.

Goodness knew there were a few harrowing memories waiting there for him. Perhaps it was time to put them behind him.

“Yes.” Mamó showed a spark of life. “And you can bring your girlfriend with you.”

Uh-oh. “Girlfriend?”

“Yes. I saw all the pictures of the two of you on the internet. You look so handsome.” Her voice contained a world of excitement. “The two of you look just like a bride and groom yourselves.”

In her stunning silver dress Lauren had looked like a bride. He remembered the stutter of his heart when she had started down the aisle toward him. In the midst of a harrowing day, she’d been the ideal distraction.

Now that played against him, giving Mamó unrealistic hopes.

“She’s a lovely girl. I’m so excited to know you’re seeing someone. Say you’ll bring her.”

This was going downhill fast. Mamó was setting herself up for disappointment if she believed a future existed for him and Lauren. “Listen—”

“You can’t fool me. It’s clear in the pictures you care for her. Please, Ray?” Mamó beseeched. “You have to come and bring her with you. It’s my dearest wish. And this may be my last birthday.”

She was always saying things like that, but one of these days it would be true.

* * *

Comfortable in yoga pants and a cap-sleeved tee, Lauren sat on her beige sofa, feet kicked up on her ottoman coffee table, tea at her elbow, trying to focus on the mystery book she’d been saving for her vacation. Her mom, dad and brother had left for Palm Springs after breakfast, leaving Lauren free to head home and officially start her vacation.

With Tori taking two weeks off for her honeymoon, Lauren had decided to have a much needed break as well. She saw it as a great opportunity to let their new assistants take the lead on the two events scheduled for the coming week. The women had done a great job at the wedding and were ready for more responsibility.

Only a week off for Lauren, though. Hollywood’s premier awards ceremony aired on Sunday, and By Arrangement was hosting Obsidian Studios’ after-party.

The event represented a major goal for the company. Yes, Tori was now married to the owner, but Lauren took pride in the fact that By Arrangement had earned the contract before they’d got engaged. Their work for Obsidian at the Hollywood Hills Film Festival had become legendary.

For the past two months they’d been getting more work than they could handle. She’d gotten three new calls just this morning.

Much as she loved her family, Lauren had been glad to see them go. Being around her mom and not telling her about the baby had just felt wrong. But Lauren wasn’t ready to confess her condition yet. Not just because she wanted Tori to be there when she revealed the news, but because Lauren needed to get used to the idea herself.

Which also explained why she wasn’t ready to talk to Ray.

In a perfect world she wouldn’t have to talk to Ray at all. She could dismiss him as a sperm donor and go about her life raising her child as she pleased. Unfortunately she possessed too much integrity for that option. Plus her work and his crossed paths too often for a pregnancy to go unnoticed.

A knock at the door drew her brows together in a frown. She couldn’t think of a single person who might be calling. Setting her teacup on the ottoman, she made her way to the door. Where she caught sight of herself in the mirror over the hall table.

She skidded to a halt on the hardwood floor. She didn’t have a lick of make-up on. After a bout of morning sickness she’d scrubbed her face clean and changed into comfy clothes. She’d barely run a brush through her hair before throwing the mass into a ponytail. She looked like a slightly hungover sixteen-year-old.

With any luck it would be a Girl Scout selling cookies. Lauren could buy a box of chocolate mints and send the child away without too much embarrassment.

A glance through the peephole proved she wasn’t that lucky. Ray stood on the other side of the door. Geez, how did he even know where she lived?

Maybe if she didn’t answer he’d go away. As soon as that thought registered she reached for the doorknob. It smacked of cowardice—something she refused to allow.

“Hey,” Ray greeted her.

Of course he looked sensational, in black chinos and an olive lightweight knit shirt under a black leather jacket.

“Can I talk to you? It’s important.”

She’d bet her “important” beat his “important.” But she wasn’t ready to go there yet, so she really had nothing to say to him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She blocked the door. “We pretty much said everything yesterday.”

“Not this. I have a job for you.”

Uh, no. “You’ll need to call the office. I’m on vacation.”

“I know.” He kissed her on the temple as he pushed past her. “That makes it perfect.”

Gritting her teeth, she followed him down the short hall to the open-plan living-room-kitchen combo. She had no doubt his “never take no for an answer” attitude had contributed greatly to his success as an award-winning director. On a personal front, she found it highly annoying.

“I don’t think it’s wise for us to work together at this time.” She lingered in the opening between the hall and living area, watching as he made himself comfortable on her overstuffed couch.

“No one else will do for this particular job,” he said, with such conviction it sparked her curiosity.

But she refused to be drawn in. She needed these next few days to herself, to re-evaluate and plan. To consider his part in her future.

“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration.”

“It’s not, actually.” He picked up her teacup and sniffed; he took a sip and nodded. “My grandmother’s birthday is this week.” He went to the kitchen and began opening cupboards until he found a mug. “I talked to her this morning. I’ve never heard her sound so down. All her friends are great-grandmothers and she’s pouting because she doesn’t have a baby to dandle on her knee.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Lauren took the mug from him and set it on the counter. “What does that have to do with me?”

“She asked me to come to her party. I’m hoping if I go it will cheer her up.”

“Good luck with that.” She did wish him luck, knowing how stubborn her grandmother could be when stuck on that topic. “I still don’t see how By Arrangement can be of assistance. We have no connections in New York. If we’d had more warning we could have put something together for you, but at this late date—”

“I don’t need your expertise as an event coordinator,” he broke in. “I need a date.”

She blinked at him; let her mind catch up with his words. “You want me to go to New York with you?”

“Yes. We leave tomorrow morning. I’ve already arranged the flight.”

Of course he had. She pointed toward the door. “Get out.”

“Lauren, I’m serious. I need your help.”

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to New York with you.”

“I don’t expect you to drop everything for nothing.” He treated her to his charming smile. “I want to hire you.”

The attempt at manipulation and the reminder that his request was a job offer only made the whole thing worse. Fortunately it had the benefit of reminding her he was a client and as such deserved a respectful response.

Drawing on her professional persona, she breathed deep, seeking calm. “As I already mentioned, I’m on vacation.”

“Name your price.” He would not be deterred. “I need you. Mamó saw that tabloid picture of us a couple of months ago, and now all the internet pictures of us at the wedding, and is excited about the idea of me having a girlfriend. All she wants for her birthday is for me to bring you with me.”

“I’m not comfortable with the idea of deceiving your grandmother. If that’s what you’re looking for I’m sure there are any number of actresses who would be pleased to help you.”

“It’s not like that.” He scowled. “It has to be you because you’re the one in the pictures and because we do have a relationship.”

“Did.” She corrected him. “We had a fling.” Calling their frantic rendezvous a relationship seemed a stretch. “It’s over.”

He stepped closer, played with the ends of her ponytail. “It doesn’t have to be. We could have fun on this trip.”

Gazing into his cheerful blue eyes, she experienced the irrational desire to lunge for what he offered. She didn’t think when she was in his arms—she just felt. An option that held huge appeal when her mind still whirled from the fact she was expecting his baby.

“No.” She spun out of his reach, crossed her arms in front of her—protecting herself, protecting their child. “We couldn’t. I told you, there’s no future for us. I like to be in the driver’s seat and so do you.”

“I don’t mind riding shotgun to a beautiful woman on occasion.”

“Liar.”

He laughed. “Okay, you got me. But we manage okay. What’s wrong with having a little fun?”

“It’s not me.” Which was true—even if there wasn’t a child to consider. “And I’m too busy. Don’t forget the awards are this weekend. We’re handling the Obsidian party.”

“But you’re on vacation. And we’ll be back by Saturday.”

“I prefer to be available in case the new assistants need help. And, believe me, I have things to keep me occupied.” Like planning a new future. Making an actual doctor’s appointment. Strategizing how she was going to handle him.

Ray stepped back, propped his hands on his hips. He appeared truly perplexed by her refusal. “Lauren, it’s my grandmother.”

Okay, he knew what button to push. She didn’t wish his grandmother ill. She actually admired his attempt to help the older woman. But she couldn’t let her sympathy lead her down a dangerous path.

“I’m sorry. She’s going to have to make do with you.”

“Right.” His blue eyes turned cold. He turned away. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

She closed her eyes rather than watch him walk away. A moment later she heard the front door close behind him.

* * *

Lauren’s conscience niggled her all morning and into the afternoon. For all his forceful charm and pre-planning ways, Ray had genuinely been concerned for his grandmother.

And, though they were no longer and never really had been seeing each other, the tabloid and internet pictures gave the appearance they had. Ray’s penchant for privacy—well known in Hollywood and no doubt by his family—only added credibility to his grandmother’s assumption.

But every time she considered changing her mind her heart raced and she remembered how insane his proposal was. If she agreed to go with him she’d be the unbalanced one. The man rode roughshod over everyone. Case in point: he had bought her airline ticket without even getting her agreement first.

So arrogant, so controlling... She shuddered. So not a good combination.

Except her life was now irrevocably linked to his. The trip to New York would present the perfect opportunity to see Ray in the midst of his family. What better way to learn what family meant to him? His concern for his grandmother was already an eye-opener. How could she refuse to help him and then expect to have a harmonious relationship going forward?

Simple—she couldn’t.

A child grew within her. Ray’s child. Mamó’s great-grandchild. Which meant Lauren had no choice but to go to New York.

She consoled herself with the knowledge that the trip would provide the perfect opportunity to tell him the news of their pending parenthood.

She hated making spur-of-the-moment decisions. She liked to plan, set goals, make lists. Order prevented chaos, allowed her to be prepared, in control. She hadn’t reached that point when it came to the baby. Or Ray.

If she was going to go to New York with him she wanted to lay down some ground rules.

Mind made up, she changed and drove to Ray’s hillside home in Malibu. It took close to an hour. She pulled in to his flagstone driveway and parked. He lived alone except for the middle-aged couple who took care of the house and gardens. Fred and Ethel lived in a small villa on the grounds.

Lauren smirked as always at the couple’s names. They were poignant reminders of home. You didn’t grow up in Palm Springs, rich with old Hollywood history, without being familiar with I Love Lucy.

She rang the doorbell, listened to it echo through the house. Given the size of the place, she gave it a few minutes before ringing again. Ray’s home took up four acres and consisted of five buildings: the four-thousand-square-foot main house, a multi-level garage with a heliport on top, a guest house, a pool house, and the caretakers’ villa. The grounds were terraced and included a tennis/basketball court, a pool, and two spas.

He also had top-of-the-line security with high-end electronic capabilities. Ray loved his gadgets. She didn’t look into the camera above the door, but she knew it was there.

She frowned and glanced at her watch. Maybe he was out. But if that were the case why had she been let in the front gate? Lauren had allowed plenty of time for someone to respond to the bell, which meant he was here and making her wait or he was refusing to acknowledge her.

Now who was the coward?

“What do you want?” His disembodied voice came from no discernible source.

“To talk to you,” she replied, keeping her gaze fixed on the ground. If he wanted to see her face he needed to open the door.

“I believe it was made clear there was nothing further to discuss between the two of us.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. This was why they weren’t compatible—the constant play for power. “I’m not having a conversation through a door.”

“What?” he mocked her. “Am I lacking graciousness as a host?”

“Fine.” She turned on her peep-toed heels. “Forget it.”

All the better for her. No awkward acting required in New York, and she’d made the attempt, so he couldn’t hold her earlier rejection against her.

The door opened at her back and a strong male hand wrapped around her upper arm. “Please come in.” He led her inside to the large, open living room. “I wouldn’t want you to come all this way and not state your business.”

She walked past him and took a seat on an oval suede sofa in rich beige. Shoot, an already difficult discussion had just got harder. Because he looked yummy. He wore the same pants and shirt he’d had on earlier, but he was sexily disheveled, with his sandy hair mussed up, the start of a five o’clock shadow, and bare feet.

When she didn’t answer he dropped into a chair across from her, knees spread, arms braced on muscular thighs.

She swallowed hard.