Little Secrets: Secretly Pregnant

This time, watching her walk away was not nearly as enticing, as he’d been dismissed again. Containing his aggravation, he moved quickly to pull alongside her. Taking a breath, he decided to start over. She might be grating his nerves, but Emma was his pet project for the next few weeks.

“You’ll be sitting on the twenty-fourth floor with the finance group while you’re here. Before we go down there, let’s stop by the twenty-third floor and I’ll show you the coffee bar. I know I always need something to perk me up midafternoon.”

“Mr. Flynn—”

“Jonah,” he pressed with the smile that always got him his way where women were concerned.

“Jonah, this really isn’t necessary. I’m sure someone other than the CEO can show me the coffee bar and the gym and the cafeteria. Right now, I really just want to get out of your hair and start to work.”

He mentally amended his prior statement—his smile usually got him his way. Emma seemed immune. He sighed in resignation and held out a hand to escort her to the elevators. How was he supposed to charm this woman when she wouldn’t let him? It was downright frustrating. “I’ll just show you the area where you’ll work, then.”

They were silent as they waited for the elevators, which were running slowly just to spite him today. He had to admit he preferred her quiet. When her mouth was closed, she was attractive and graceful with just a touch of mystery in the green eyes that appraised him. When she spoke, it became abundantly clear that they came from two very different schools of thought where business and pleasure were concerned.

Jonah didn’t know if it was better or worse that he found her perfume so appealing. Actually, as he anxiously watched the digital numbers of the elevator climb, he began to wonder if it was a perfume at all. The scent was more like a clean, fresh mix of shampoo and a lady’s hand cream. It suited her more than the heavy stink of the perfumes that made his nose twinge. Much more delicate. Like the line of her collarbone that was barely visible at the V of her blouse.

The reflex to glance down her top for a tattoo was stifled by the blue dress shirt she wore. One less woman to slap him with a harassment suit, he supposed. Besides, Miss Goody Two-shoes was the least likely candidate to be his butterfly that he’d run across yet.

The doors finally opened and they took the short trip to the twenty-fourth-floor finance department. As they walked, he noticed Emma’s gaze didn’t wander like so many other visitors. Normally people were interested in the untraditional workings of FlynnSoft. Emma’s vision was fixed like a laser in front of her. Her intensity was both intriguing and a touch disconcerting. Would she be this focused on the financial reports?

He stopped at a visitor’s office and opened the door. The small L-shaped desk took up much of the space with the computer setup and phone occupying one whole side. There was a corporate lithograph framed on one wall and a ficus shoved in the corner. It wasn’t intended for long-term occupancy, but certainly it would be adequate for the short time she required it.

“This will be your home for the next few weeks. The desk is full of supplies, the phone is activated and there’s a docking station for your laptop. If you need anything, the finance assistant, Angela, can help you. She’s down the hall and to the left.”

Emma watched him gesture, then nodded curtly. Another annoyingly dismissive gesture. The woman just couldn’t wait for him to go away. What exactly was her problem? She was tight as a drum, every muscle taut, and anxious as though she itched to brush past him into the office and shut the door in his face. Why would such an attractive woman be wound up so damn tightly? She needed a drink. Or a good lay. Both couldn’t hurt. He’d be happy to oblige if she’d give him the opportunity.

“Are you all right, Emma?”

Her head snapped toward him, a slight frown puckering the area between her eyebrows. Her green eyes searched his face for a moment before she spoke. “I’m fine.”

The hell she was. But pushing her probably wasn’t the best tactic this early on, so he let it slide. He didn’t have to claim victory on the first day. He’d do it soon enough.

“You just seem a little uncomfortable. I assure you none of us bite.” He planted his right hand on the door frame and leaned closer to her to emphasize his words. “You might even find you enjoy your time with us.”

Emma’s face went pale, her eyes focused on his hand and completely ignoring his persuasive charms. When she turned back to him, she flashed a saccharine smile. Sweetly artificial. “Of course. I’m just anxious to get settled in.”

His hand fell heavy at his side. This wasn’t going as well as he’d planned. He wasn’t sure if she was deliberately being difficult or she was just like this normally. Paul had better be rushing that transaction because his wine-and-dine plan might not pan out the way he hoped. He’d just been assigned the only woman in Manhattan who was immune to him. Possibly even annoyed by him.

Maybe it was just the work environment. It was possible she stuck to strict business protocol and the casual interactions he was used to made her uncomfortable. All the better to get her away from the office, then. Give her the chance to let her hair down, kick off those heels and relax. He’d drop the dinner invitation, then leave her alone for the rest of the afternoon to stew over the possibilities. The anticipation alone would do a great deal of the work for him.

He glanced at his watch to lay it on thick. “I’d love to talk to you some more about your assignment, but I’m afraid I have a meeting in a few minutes. Would you be interested in having dinner with me tomorrow night?”

“No.”

Jonah opened his mouth to suggest a restaurant and stopped cold. Had she just said no? That couldn’t be right. “What?”

Her pale skin flushed pink and her eyes grew wide for a moment as she seemed to realize her mistake. “I mean no, thank you,” she corrected, turning on her heel and disappearing into her new office with a swift click of the door.

Three

The following morning, Emma met Harper at the twenty-third-floor coffee bar before work. She’d barely slept the

night before and was seriously in need of some caffeine.

“You look like hell,” Harper said, always the honest one. When they’d first met at the sorority house, Emma wasn’t quite sure what to think of her. Now she’d come to appreciate her candor. Most of the time.

“Thanks. Good morning to you, too.”

They got into line and waited to place their orders. “What’s wrong?” Harper asked.