The Boss's Baby Mistake

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.

Chapter Three

Gayle took a long, cool drink of water and cleared her throat. There didn’t seem to be anything left to say. Jack seemed to feel it, too. This conversation had run its course for now.

He paid the bill and they both rose to leave. As they walked out, he put a hand gently behind her neck to lead her to the street. She jumped when she first felt his touch, but he didn’t withdraw his hand and so she didn’t say anything. Still, it was definitely disturbing, making her skin so sensitive she had to consciously ignore it to keep from reacting, and she was relieved when he let her go once on the sidewalk.

“Where are you parked?” he asked. She told him and they started toward the parking structure.

“I don’t really need an escort,” she told him lightly. “I’ve been getting my car from parking lots for a long time now. Haven’t had a problem yet.”

He smiled but didn’t say anything, and kept right on walking with her. They had to go past a row of pink oleanders and through the old Spanish plaza with its worn bricks and colorful tile. There was a bench in front of a fountain ahead, the cascading water sparkling silvery in the sunlight. He watched her for a moment. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to let her go just yet. He told himself it was because they still hadn’t settled anything and they still needed to talk, but he knew it was more than that.

“Gayle, wait a moment.” He took her arm, stopping her. “Come sit with me over there on that bench. We still have a few things to talk about.”

She stared into his eyes for a moment, and he knew she wanted to go, wanted to get away from him. He couldn’t blame her. He’d completely disrupted her life. To her, he was nothing but a problem that she wished would evaporate. He was going to have to convince her that he was not going to disappear from the scene anytime soon.

Finally she nodded and started toward the bench. He came with her, reaching out with his handkerchief to sweep off the leaves before letting her seat herself. She brushed by him as she did so, her hair floating behind her and leaving her scent in the air. He took a deep breath, wanting more of it. She smelled like flowers, like sunshine and happiness. As he sat down beside her, he had to resist the impulse to touch her hair.

She turned to look at him and her eyes were saying, “Make this quick, mister, I want to get going.”

He grimaced. “Gayle, you’re going to have to realize, whether you like it or not, we’re tied together.”

She swallowed. “I…I’m not sure I know what you mean,” she said faintly.

“You have a part of me inside you. I want it back.”

Her eyes hardened and she faced him with her head held high. “But the only way for you to get it back is to take part of me,” she said boldly. “And I won’t give it up.”

He searched her eyes. She wasn’t going to yield. He had to admire her for that. But it didn’t help his cause.

She saw the consternation in his eyes and impulsively, reached out to touch his arm. “Believe me, if there was anything I could do to make this right for you, I would.” She shook her head. “But don’t you see? You can’t ask me to give up my baby. That just isn’t going to happen.”

She was prepared to accept anger from him, or bitterness, or even frustrated rage. But instead he smiled. And then he reached out and gently touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers, while his dark gaze slowly scanned her features.

Suddenly her heart was thumping in her chest, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he completely discounted the strength of her will, or because a very attractive man was touching her. Either way, she knew she was in trouble.

But he was already drawing back, reaching into his pocket. “Here’s my home phone number,” he said, jotting it down on the back of one of his business cards. “And my address.” He handed her the card. “Let me have your number.”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously.

“So I can harass you with crank calls from dusk till dawn,” he said, giving her a look of pure exasperation. “Come on, Gayle. I need your number.”

Sighing, she wrote down her number on another of his cards.

“There,” she said, handing it over. “See how I trust you?”

A faint smile played with the corners of his mouth as he pocketed the card. “Trust is a precious thing,” he said. “Precious and rare.”

For the first time, she recognized the streak of bitterness in him, the source of the wary distrust that so often filled his eyes even when his lips were smiling. She wondered if his ex-wife had turned him into such a hard man, or if it was a trait he’d always had.

“Why did you decide to have the artificial insemination?” Jack asked her suddenly.

She looked at him, startled. The question seemed too blunt, too personal.

“Why did you?” she countered.

He hesitated. “I wanted a son,” he said at last. “And I didn’t want another wife.”

She opened her mouth to ask more, but he was already shaking his head. “I told you I would explain it all to you at some point, but I don’t want to go into detail right now.” He raised one eyebrow. “Your turn.”

She took a deep breath. “We decided on artificial insemination for the usual reason. We tried the routine way. It didn’t work.” And she set her lips. If he could withhold details, so could she.

But he wasn’t asking for any. “So you thought you’d let professionals handle it,” he commented casually, sitting back with his elbows hanging over the back of the bench, looking at the fountain. His legs were stretched out in front of him, the wool fabric of his slacks pulled taut by the muscles of his thighs.

Gayle noticed, then silently scolded herself for noticing.

“How did you get the name of these clowns across the street?” he asked.

“Through work. We have a health representative who does referrals.” She sighed. “They came very well recommended.”

He nodded. “I researched the field extensively before I decided upon that clinic. They have a very good reputation.” He gazed at her speculatively. “But I thought you said you were unemployed.”

“Laid off.” She pushed her hair back behind her ear. She didn’t want to think about that. She had enough problems on her plate right now. “Just recently.”

“Sorry. But you would have had to quit, anyway. The baby…”

“I also have to eat,” she said crisply. This situation wasn’t like it had been when her father died and the debts were piled to the ceiling. Still, she didn’t have a lot in savings. She had been planning to spend this afternoon job hunting, but that window of opportunity was fast closing. “I’m signed up with Top Techs, a temporary employment agency, but they haven’t called me with anything yet. I’m going to have to find something soon, though.”

“Listen,” he said, turning toward her on the bench. “I can help you. Money is no object. Just—”

“No!” She stared at him as though he’d suggested something horrible. “Never. I will not take money from you.”

“Gayle, I’m the baby’s father.”

She wanted to close her eyes and cover her ears. “How do I know that? I don’t have any proof that anything you’ve said about all this is true. For all I know, you made it up.”

“You can check with the clinic. They’ll have to let you see the documentation. Your husband’s sample was accidentally destroyed and mine was taken out of turn. You’ll be convinced. I was.”

He was quiet for a moment, then he turned toward her and gazed into her eyes. “You know something? I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you and your husband. But for me, I have to admit, things have worked out pretty well.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You. I think you’re just about what I would have ordered up as a mother for my child, if you had been in the mix when I had to make a choice.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but he went on anyway. “You’re smart, courageous, compassionate.” His eyes darkened. “And you’re very beautiful.”

She gasped. “Beautiful?” He hadn’t said it as a casual compliment. He’d said it with conviction, as though he really meant it. Just the way he’d said it made her tremble inside.

“Yes. Beautiful.” He took a strand of her hair and curled it around his forefinger, and the way he moved as he did so, slowly, provocatively, left her breathless. “Hasn’t anyone ever called you beautiful before?”

“Never,” she whispered. And it was true.

“What? Didn’t your husband speak English?”

She felt she had to defend him. “He…well, he wasn’t very verbal about things like that.” Hank had never been very romantic. He’d loved her. He’d put her on a pedestal. But he hadn’t wanted to touch her very often.

She knew without having to analyze it that Jack would have been a very different husband. She barely knew him and already she sensed he could be a passionate lover. Her heart was beating a wild dance in her chest. He was too close. She could feel the heat from his body. And his fingers tugging on her hair made her think of things she shouldn’t be thinking.

“Gayle,” he said softly, “you’re an exceptionally beautiful woman. And what’s more, even though you’re seven months pregnant, you’re sexy as hell.”

She felt as though she were drowning in his dark eyes. He was going to kiss her. Oh, she hoped so! She held her breath, waiting for his mouth to cover hers. She wanted to feel his lips so badly, she thought she would die without it.

But luckily that was a delusion, because he didn’t kiss her at all. For just a moment, his gaze devoured hers, and he came ever closer. She waited, heart beating like a drum. But after a few excruciating seconds, he drew back and suddenly was acting as though nothing had happened.

“Anyway,” he said casually, looking away, “the point is, we’ve got a mutual interest here. We both want you to have a calm, happy pregnancy. We both want our baby to be as healthy as possible. Agreed?”

Our baby. The words shocked her back to reality. She looked at him, wondering if she’d imagined everything that had happened in the last few moments. He didn’t seem to think a thing of it. A flash of anger spiked through her, but she would die before she’d let him see how disappointed she was. “Yes,” she said faintly. “Now I’ve got to get home….”

“All right,” he said agreeably. “It is getting late.”

They rose and he walked with her into the parking structure at the edge of the plaza. She avoided looking at him. She was going to go home and forget she’d ever met him! If only she could…

“There’s my car,” she said, pointing out her elderly blue compact as they approached it.

Jack frowned. “Are you sure this thing is safe?” he asked, running his finger over the faded hood.

“It’s fine,” she told him, unlocking the door. “I’ve had it for years.”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he watched her get into the car. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said grumpily. “Cars only have so many miles to give, you know. This one looks like it’s about hit its limit.”

He was worried about the baby, she knew. She gave him a patient look and started her engine, rolling down her window so that she could say goodbye. He bent down, leaning his hand on her car door.

“Have you named him?” he asked softly.

Her hand went protectively to her rounded belly. It felt odd to answer his question. She’d never told anyone other than Hank. “Yes,” she said. “His name is going to be Michael.”

“Michael,” he said, pronouncing it slowly, rolling the name on his tongue as though to savor it. “I like that.”