The Boss's Special Delivery

“Do you do this often?”

“Meet men by swooning into their arms?” Annie asked, struggling for normalcy. “No, as a matter of fact, you’re my first.”

He gave her an assessing look. “You’re pregnant.”

He said it calmly, but to her it sounded like an accusation, and she bristled. As an unwed mother-to-be, she bristled a lot lately.

“Really?”

The stranger looked up at her for the first time, really seemed to look into her eyes and see who she was. Annie didn’t think she’d ever seen bluer eyes.

But there was more. He had the look of a man who did and said whatever occurred to him. Everything in her wanted to like him. He looked…well, nice. And that was even more dangerous than his undeniable sex appeal. The way he took charge so naturally. The way he was poised, down on one knee before her, like a knight asking a lady for her scarf to wear into battle.

The Boss’s Special Delivery

Raye Morgan

MILLS & BOON

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RAYE MORGAN

has spent almost two decades, while writing over fifty novels, searching for the answer to that elusive question: Just what is that special magic that happens when a man and a woman fall in love? Every time she thinks she has the answer, a new wrinkle pops up, necessitating another book! Meanwhile, after living in Holland, Guam, Japan and Washington, D.C., she currently makes her home in Southern California with her husband and two of her four boys.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Chapter One

Annie Torres was going to faint. The signs were all there. Staring hard at her order pad, she tried to fight the feeling.

Just give me one more minute, she begged silently. Just let me get into the break room.

“Oh, wait,” her customer was saying. “I think I want a side of fries with that. And can I get a serving of blue cheese dressing to go with the fries?”

The room was starting to turn, very slowly, but it was turning. She felt clammy. It was only a matter of seconds. Flipping her book closed, she started to step away, desperate to get to the break room.

“Miss? Wait a minute. I forgot about dessert. Do you have any of that great fresh peach pie today?”

It sounded like the woman was talking to her from the end of a tunnel. The words were echoing in her head and something was pounding in her ears. She had to get out of there. She tried to turn back, but it was too late. She was wilting like a rose in the hot summer sun. It was all over.

“Hey.”

She opened her eyes. There were faces all around, staring down at her. Something in her wanted to laugh. They looked so funny. Then she realized she was lying on the floor of Millie’s Café and it didn’t seem so funny any longer.

Each face had a mouth and each mouth was moving but she couldn’t tell what they were saying. She closed her eyes, wishing they would all go away and leave her alone. Her head was throbbing.

“I’ll handle this.”

Finally a deep, masculine voice stood out from the babble and she felt cool, strong hands probing for injuries and testing her reactions.

“Does anything hurt?” he asked her.

She shook her head and regretted it, because her head hurt like crazy. But it wasn’t from hitting the floor, it was just a headache.

“Sorry,” she muttered, trying to get up. “I’d better get back to work.”

“Not likely.” Suddenly she was being swung up into the arms of what had to be a fairly strong man.

“Hey,” she said weakly, pushing back and trying to look up into his face.

“Just relax, honey,” he said in a soothing voice. “I’ve got you.”

“But I don’t need getting,” she protested, pushing ineffectively against his shoulder with her hands.

“Don’t try to talk,” he told her as he carried her through the crowded café. “You’re obviously delirious.”

He said it with a touch of humor, so she didn’t take it seriously. He was probably trying to put her at ease about the situation. That wasn’t necessary, because she didn’t need his help. Much.

Though she had to admit, it felt so good to have such strong arms holding her. They were protective. Safe. And from what she could feel of him, pretty darn sexy. Which was exactly why she had to resist. If he would just put her down and let her get oriented…

But at least he knew where to take her. In just seconds she was in the break room and he was lowering her to the couch.

“Thank you, ladies,” he said as someone handed him a damp cloth and a cup of water. “Just give us some room, please. Let me give her a quick examination. She’ll be good as new in no time.”

Bossy guy. As far as she was concerned, he could take that take-charge attitude and—

“Okay, Doctor,” someone was saying.

Actually, it might have been Millie. Annie’s eyes were closed and it was just too hard right now to open them and take a look. But if Millie was giving him permission to handle this, maybe she could relax a little. Millie was her boss, the owner of the café, and a thoroughly decent woman. Annie had come to realize lately that thoroughly decent people were hard to find and worth their weight in gold once discovered.

And he was a doctor, anyway. She relaxed a little more. She was more disposed to trust a doctor than she was to trust most men. After all, there was that Hippocratic oath thing.

“Just give a holler if you need anything,” Millie added.

“Will do.”

Annie finally got her eyes back open in time to see Millie leaving, and the very large man staying. As he continued to hover over her, he murmured something that made the others melt away. She appreciated that he’d dismissed the audience, because she’d had about enough of being the center of attention for a while.

Still, that meant she was alone with this man. Needing to reassert a little control of the situation, she pulled up to sit rather than staying down where he’d put her.

He didn’t object. Instead, he put the cool cloth to her forehead, gave her a sip of water and then began taking her pulse. And finally her head cleared enough so that she could see straight again.

She looked him over, still groggy, head aching. Not bad, actually. He was handsome in a rugged, outdoorsy way—his thick hair dark and windblown looking, as though he’d just come in from chopping wood or chasing bears or something, and his eyes incredibly blue against his tanned skin. He looked familiar. She’d seen him in here at Millie’s before. And she was pretty sure she’d seen him in years past. But it had only been a month since she’d come back to the Texas town of Chivaree and her ten or so years away had dimmed a lot of memories.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, studying her in a detached, clinical sort of way.

“Woozy.”

He nodded and his eyes narrowed a bit. “Do you do this often?”

She struggled for normalcy. “Meet men by swooning into their arms?” she asked as impudently as she could manage. “No, as a matter of fact, you’re my first.”

He gave her an assessing look. “You’re pregnant.”

He said it calmly, but to her it sounded like an accusation, and she bristled. As an unwed mother-to-be, she bristled a lot lately.

“Really?” she responded quickly, straightening her shoulders as though she had to get ready for battle. “What was your first clue?”

He looked up and really met her dark gaze for the first time, really seemed to look into her eyes and see who she was. She had to stifle a shiver. She didn’t think she’d ever seen bluer eyes.

But there was more. Something about him made her feel uncertain and a little self-conscious. He had the look of a man who did and said whatever occurred to him, without much worrying about what was appropriate to the occasion. If he saw something about her he liked…or didn’t like…he was likely to be quite frank about it. And he proved she’d read him right with his next statement.

“You’re also a smart aleck,” he said dryly.

Still defensive, Annie stared right back at him. She had to make sure men like this knew she couldn’t be intimidated. She’d had a lot of experience at this sort of thing lately. Learning how to protect herself by being a bit caustic hadn’t come naturally, but she was learning.

“If I want character analysis, I’ll go see a psychologist.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. She wasn’t sure if it was with humor or a quick irritation. Either way was okay with her—just so long as he realized she wasn’t going to put up with any baloney from him—or any other man.

“Why pay for that when I’m prepared to analyze for free?” he said. Putting his head to the side, he pretended to study her. “Let’s see if I’ve got a proper fix on you. You’re headstrong, stubborn, sure you’re usually right…and a hard worker.”

His casual assumptions—as well as his cynical tone—were really annoying her, and she said the first thing that came to mind.

“So’s your old man,” she shot back.

His sudden grin was a stunner, white teeth flashing, eyes crinkling, and real humor lit up his face. “I didn’t know you knew him.”

Okay, there it was—the main thing she had to watch out for. Everything in her wanted to like him. He looked…well, nice. And that was even more dangerous than his undeniable sex appeal—the macho way he took charge so naturally; the breathtaking chest muscles that seemed to swell under his light polo shirt; the way he was poised, down on one knee before her, like a knight asking a lady for her scarf to wear into battle.

She blinked quickly and shook her head, furious at herself for letting her imagination run wild on that last one. What was she doing, sinking back into childhood? She’d spent a good part of her youth blocking out reality by creating a dream world in which she was a lost princess. She couldn’t go back to that. Too much fantasy could corrupt her reasoning powers and that would be a gateway straight to the danger zone. She was a grown woman with a baby on the way and she couldn’t indulge herself like this anymore. Life was tough—she had to be hard to survive it.

Still, that was difficult to do when the man she faced was so incredibly good-looking and dressed so well. Besides the blue polo shirt, he wore clean fashionable denim slacks that fit like a glove and a soft suede jacket that clung to him in all the right places. What a contrast to her slightly silly green waitress uniform. And also, what a clear picture of their different stations in life. He looked like he shopped at Neiman-Marcus. She looked like she hadn’t shopped in years. Hardly princess material.

She looked away quickly, aware more than ever that they were alone. This was not a place she wanted to be. Besides, it was time she got back to work. Millie was shorthanded today and Annie didn’t want to risk bad feelings at this job. She needed it badly, and there weren’t many who would hire a woman almost seven months pregnant.

“May I go now?” she said, needing to ask as he was blocking her way.

He gazed at her levelly. “No, you may not. You’re still pale and I don’t like your pulse rate.”

She flashed a quick glare his way. “There are things I don’t like about you, but I’ve got the manners not to list them.”

He made a comical face. “Impossible.”

She frowned a little nervously. “What’s impossible?”

“That there’s something about me not to like.” He was grinning again. She really wished he wouldn’t. “I’m a terrific guy. Everyone says so.”

Great. That was all she needed. Not only was he incredibly handsome and a great dresser, he was popular, too. At least, if you asked him. Reaching up, she pushed her thick dark wavy hair back behind her ear.

“That’s what happens when you depend on selective polling,” she said coolly. Even if she looked like a waitress, she could act as snooty as any Dallas cattle heiress if she tried hard enough. “All the votes aren’t in yet, mister.”

One sleek dark eyebrow rose with just a touch of surprise. “Doctor,” he corrected smoothly.

She blinked. “Doctor who?”

“No, that was the TV show. Just plain old Dr. Allman. Or better yet, Matt Allman.”

She shook her head. Now he was being plain old annoying and he had to know it was bugging her. Was he doing it to put her down? Somehow she didn’t really think so. It seemed more like teasing, like he thought he was being playful. Like he was attracted to her and—

No. Now that was going too far. Why would a man like this be attracted to a woman in ugly green who was carrying someone else’s baby? That was just her fantasy side coming out again. She was going to have to learn to turn that little talent off.

“I should have known you were an Allman. I guess that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

She flushed, not sure what to say. The Allmans had been one of the founding families of the town, but their reputation hadn’t been good when she’d been here in the past. She always had the idea the Allmans were “this close” to being outlaws. Of course, that might have been pure gossip at the time, but something about the family always seemed to signal danger of one sort or another.

“That explains why you look as much like a rebel without a cause as you do a doctor,” she said a bit lamely, knowing he was waiting for an answer.

“A rebel.” He savored the word, eyes narrowing as though he saw himself from a distance. “I kind of like that.”

“Of course you do. You’re an Allman.”

He thought for a moment, his penetrating gaze clearly taking stock of her. She stared right back at him, not giving an inch. But inside, she quivered, wondering what he saw. A mouthy waitress who ought to be more grateful for what he’d done to tend to her? A pain in the neck? A pitiful ragamuffin, her dark hair a tangled mess?

None of those things were good and she wished, suddenly, that she knew a way to act that wouldn’t put her at odds with him. Sometimes it seemed she only had two speeds, mad attraction or complete hostility. And since she’d vowed she would never let herself get fooled by an attraction again, the tough-girl pose was just about all she had left.

But maybe that was okay. It gave her armor against falling for the sort of charm that had left her pregnant and alone. It helped let a man like this doctor know his handsome face and hunky physique weren’t going to bowl her over any time soon. If she had to be hard and caustic to make that plain, so be it. Better he know right up front. Better they all know. And better that she keep in mind the consequences of letting silly romantic notions creep into her thinking.

“So I’m an Allman,” he was saying, looking quizzical. “What exactly does that mean to you?”

She drew herself up a bit. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

She sighed. “Okay. To me, growing up around here, the Allmans were cowboys, trending toward the wrong side of the law. The Allmans always seemed to be starting fights or causing trouble. Especially for the McLaughlins.”

He laughed, and she flushed, not sure what he found so funny. He couldn’t possibly know her relationship to the McLaughlins. No one knew. So that couldn’t be it. Frowning, she went on.

“Now I come back to town and find the Allmans are the movers and shakers of the place. What happened?”

It was a remarkable transformation from what she’d seen. Those low-life Allmans now had a thriving company and the high-and-mighty McLaughlins had hit hard times. That had to be difficult for everyone concerned.

She’d been thirteen when her mother had finally told her that her father had been William McLaughlin, from the family she’d worked for years ago. And because that family was so important in Chivaree, she’d held the secret close and been proud of it. Watching McLaughlins whenever she came to town, she’d felt an identification with them that she couldn’t communicate—and they had fascinated her.

Now, all alone with a baby coming, she’d come back instinctively to the place where her “family” lived, to find out a few things. First, was it true? Did she really have blood ties to these people? And second, would they accept her? Or would they want to deny that she had any right to their attention at all?

So far she hadn’t decided exactly what she was going to do—which McLaughlin she would approach and what she would say when she did so. The man she’d been told was her father had died a few years before, so that bit of closure would be forever denied to her. But he’d had other children, three sons. What would they say when she showed up on their doorsteps?

Soon after she’d arrived in town, she’d found a way to insert herself into the McLaughlin consciousness. She’d seen a wanted notice for a once-a-week housekeeper at the McLaughlin Ranch, and she’d applied for the job right away. Since she was only working part-time here at Millie’s, she had plenty of time for it, and the housekeeping job gave her a sort of foot in the door. The fact that she was working in a position very like what her mother had once had with the family was a little troubling. But she couldn’t be choosy at this point. She needed to get the lay of the land. Time was moving on and a baby was coming. And she knew she was going to have to do something about that very soon.

“What’s your name?” he was asking.

“Annie Torres.” The first name was pinned to her uniform, but she wondered if he would recognize the last name. Probably not. After all, why would he remember the name of the McLaughlin housekeeper from so many years ago? The McLaughlins themselves hadn’t.

“Nice to meet you, Annie,” he said casually. “In time I hope you’ll come to see that Allmans aren’t so bad.”

“But that doesn’t mean you’re now the good guys,” she said hastily. “Just because you’re rich and all.”

“Oh? Why not?”

She shrugged, turning her palms up. “Leopards and zebras.”

He looked as though he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “What?”

“Spots and stripes don’t change that easily.”

“Ah.” He nodded wisely. “Wolves in sheep’s clothing.”

“Exactly right.” She gave him a skeptical look. “For all we know, you could be playing possum.”

He groaned. “Are you always this glib with the animal aphorisms?”

A small spark of satisfaction flared in her chest. She finally felt as though one of her barbs had hit home. “Not always. I’m as game for a good sports metaphor as the next girl.”

“Good.” He rose and held out a hand to her. “Because you’re being traded.”

“What?” For some reason, maybe because she was still trying to figure out what he was talking about, she meekly let him take her hand and pull her to her feet.

“How do you feel?” he asked, studying her eyes.

She took a deep breath. He hadn’t let go of her hand, but maybe that was to help her steady herself. Frowning, she pulled her hand out of his and rubbed it against her skirt, trying to erase the delicious feeling his touch had given her.

“I’m fine,” she said crisply. “I need to get back to work.”

He shook his head. “Negative. I’m taking you in to my clinic. You need a thorough checkup.”

“I need not to lose my job,” she told him, trying to maneuver around him toward the door and failing to make any headway.

“You’re quitting this job,” he told her, looking intently into her eyes for a moment. “Doctor’s orders.”

This was crazy. It was all very well to tell her not to work too hard, to get plenty of rest and keep her feet up and so forth. But the fact remained that she had to make a living somehow. Lifting her chin, she glared at him defiantly.

“Doctors can throw their weight around all they want, but patients have still got to eat.”

She turned toward the door but he moved to block her progress and she looked up, a little startled by how big he was, how wide his shoulders seemed. And how knowing his gaze seemed to be. Did this man ever have any doubts about anything?

“You’ll eat,” he said. “I’ve got another job for you. One that won’t keep you on your feet all day.”

She wondered why he so casually assumed she would trust him enough to hand over life’s little decisions to him.

“And that would be…?”

“Office work. My office assistant abandoned me. She’s gone back East to help her fiancé pass the New York state bar exam. I need someone to fill in until she gets back.”

Office work. Air-conditioning. A soft, plush seat. Regular hours. It sounded heavenly. But it never paid as much as waiting tables and getting tips.

“How long will that be?” she asked anyway, tempted against her better judgment.

“At least three months.” His grin had become endearingly crooked. “That fiancé of hers needs a lot of work and she’s the determined type.”

She looked at him curiously. “What makes you think I’d be good at doing the sort of office work you need done?”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen you working here with Millie over the last few weeks. Competence just radiates from you. Don’t you know that?”

It was a nice compliment, but she hesitated, then shook her head.

“I can’t quit here,” she said, putting a hand on her rounded belly. “I’m totally dependent on what I make and I need to save for my recovery period after the baby comes.”

His blue eyes darkened. “No husband handy?”

He asked it quietly, no moral judgment implied, and she felt a small twinge of gratitude for that. She’d spent too much emotional energy lately in resenting the looks and comments made by people once they realized her situation. No one could be more contemptuous of her idiocy in landing in this fix than she was. She didn’t need to hear it from others. Lifting her head, she met his gaze with a steady look.

“No. I’m not married.”

If anything, his gaze grew warmer. “No family of any sort?”

She shook her head. “My mother died about a year ago.”

“And your father?”

“I don’t have one.”

He frowned. “Everyone has a father.”

“Only in the biological sense,” she said.

She could tell he didn’t like that answer, but he let it go.

“How much do you make?”

She told him. It wasn’t like it was a secret. Everyone knew how much this job took in. She didn’t add the amount she made at her second job, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You’ll do better working for me.” He told her a figure that got her attention. “And you’ll get benefits, too. You’ll need that for when you have the baby.”

She shook her head. “My delivery fees will be covered.” She hesitated only a second or two, then went on. “I’m considering giving my baby up for adoption. The lawyer will take care of everything.”

The very air seemed to go still. And at the same time, something flashed across his face. He looked as though her statement had stunned him. His face was like stone but his eyes were blazing.

“What?” he said softly.

She licked her dry lips. She had expected surprise, maybe bemusement, but nothing like this.