Expecting the Boss's Baby

It was strange, but Kate felt more at home here than she did in Michael’s apartment. She would be bored out of her gourd if all she did was spend her days shopping and house-hunting. “I think I may know someone who can help,” she said. “What kind of computers do you have?”

Tina wrinkled her nose. “One computer,” she said, pointing to an ancient machine in the back office.

Kate glanced at it and sighed. “A little younger than the house, huh?”

Tina laughed.

“Well, we have no place to go but up.”

Kate left the home, stopped by a computer discount store, and purchased two machines. She spent the afternoon and evening setting them up at her old duplex. She craved the familiarity and since her lease wasn’t up, there was technically no reason she couldn’t visit the place every now and then.

A knock sounded at the door just before it opened. She glanced up to see Michael. He looked at the two computers. “What are you doing?”

“Setting up two computers I bought today.”

“But you already have a computer and a laptop.” He walked closer. “This doesn’t have the best name-brand processor.”

“Don’t be snooty,” she warned him. “This processor may not be a designer brand, but it’ll do the job. It’s fast. I’m donating Claire and Delores to the home for unwed teenage mothers because the one computer they have must have been donated by the pilgrims. I visited the home today; they need a computer teacher, and I am now it.”

“Claire and Delores,” he muttered. “I never understood your propensity for naming machines.”

“It keeps me from smashing them to pieces when they crash.”

“Why didn’t you bring them to my apartment?”

“I don’t like your apartment,” she said and felt him staring from behind her. The tension which had drained from her began to seep in again.

“Why?”

“It’s bare,” she said. “There are no plants or pictures. No memorabilia. It doesn’t tell anything about you.”

“I wasn’t aware that was a requirement,” he said dryly. “I don’t have a lot of cute pictures of me from my childhood.”

Kate felt a pang at the thought of Michael’s lost childhood, but the hour was late and his proximity made her itchy. “Why is that?” she asked. “Were you an ugly child?”

He gave a double take, then chuckled. “I’m sure that’s a matter of opinion. Redecorate it?”

“No. Because then it would be my apartment instead of our apartment,” she said as she installed the last program on the computer. “I need to know your preferences, your favorite colors, what kind of art you like, what things make you feel good and comfortable—besides chocolate chip cookies,” she said remembering his penchant for stealing them when she’d brought a few to the office.

He gently guided her chin around. “I like blue. I don’t like art that I can’t figure out. I like lots of windows and I don’t like heavy draperies. I like comfortable furniture. I like plants and flowers that I can’t kill. And I like you,” he told her with topaz eyes that made seductive promises she knew he could deliver, “in my bed.”

Six

K ate delivered Delores and Claire to the home for unwed teenage mothers the following day and was impressed with the director. Unable to bear the terminal beige decor of Michael’s apartment, she picked up a few more things to add some color. She kept herself busy for fear of a flat-out panic attack as the wedding date drew nearer.

Although Kate had never thought of herself as helpless, she couldn’t help feeling like a mouse with Michael as the sleek, savvy cat. She’d watched him negotiate mergers and while he’d always made the companies he acquired feel good, they still ended up being eaten. His forceful masculinity drew her in at the same time she felt the need to protect herself from it. It was enough to interrupt her sleep knowing he was nearby and wanted her.

Another day passed, and Kate’s parents called to remind her they would be coming tomorrow. On edge, she received a curious call that afternoon from the home for unwed teenage mothers. Just when she’d thought Michael’s blood ran green for dollars instead of red, he proved her wrong.

Michael arrived home at close to eight o’clock. He’d buried himself in work. Knowing Kate was in his bed filled him with visions that left him in a state of permanent arousal. Michael had a strong understanding of timing and negotiations, and he knew he’d pushed Kate into the marriage. Pushing her into making love with him before the ceremony might put his ultimate goal of marriage at risk. This situation reminded him of nitroglycerin and he refused to upset the precarious balance. Rocking her already emotional boat by pushing her into bed with him could make her run in the wrong direction—away from him. He mentally understood and believed all of this, but his libido and need to possess her taunted him relentlessly.

The scent of a delicious home-cooked meal and chocolate chip cookies greeted him when he opened the door. “Oh, God,” he said. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Welcome,” she said and regarded him with a smile that made him wonder what inspired it. She wore a little skirt that captured and held his attention. Kate had great legs, he thought again. Slim ankles, curvy calves, and silky thighs, and in between them, he remembered, her femininity forming a wet, snug, velvet welcome to him.

Michael grew hard and stifled a sigh. He loosened his collar. “What’s the occasion?”

“Farewell dinner,” she said.

Everything inside him stopped. “What?”

“My parents are descending tomorrow,” she said with a lopsided smile.

Michael relaxed slightly.

“Do you like beef stew?”

“Yes.” Michael watched the mind-bending swing of her h*ps as she walked toward the counter. The scent of delicious food and the sight of her delicious backside combined to form the opposing sensations of complete satisfaction and complete frustration. Soon, he promised himself, he would be consuming more than Kate’s food.

After they shared the meal, he sat back replete. Kate shooed away his offer to help remove the dishes. She took care of them quickly, then leveled a gaze on him.

He felt an odd sensation in his gut at the intent expression in her eyes. She looked like a woman with a mission as she walked toward him.

“I think I need to pass on a thank you.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the home for unwed teenage mothers called to thank me for the twenty computers that arrived today along with a quarter-million-dollar donation.”

Michael shrugged. “What does that have to do with me?”

“I believe you,” she said, pointing her index finger at his chest, “are responsible.”

Her blue eyes searched his. “I had just told you about the home’s needs and the following day the computers and funds arrive. Too much of a coincidence.”

“I’m sure the home’s been begging for help from everyone. Any number of people could have chosen them for a tax write-off.”

Impatience flashed in her eyes. “I’m not going to let you reduce this to a tax write-off.”

“I can’t take responsibility for this,” Michael said, thinking of the oath of secrecy he and his friends had taken.

Confusion furrowed her brow. “Are you saying you had nothing to do with the recent donations?”

“I’m not personally responsible,” he said carefully.

“And if you were somehow involved, your complete motivation would have been for the tax write-off,” she said, clearly frustrated with his reticence. “Okay, well just in case you know someone who was partly responsible, I’d like you to give them a message.” She leaned her slim sexy body into his and pressed her lips to his mouth. “Tell him I said it was very nice.” She brushed her lips back and forth over his. “Tell him I said thank you.”

Kate opened her mouth and Michael felt as if she’d set his clothes on fire. She rubbed her wicked open mouth over his, darting her tongue out to taste him until his brain went into complete meltdown.

Michael took over the kiss, devouring her mouth the way he wanted to consume all of her. She tasted like chocolate chip cookies and her body held the promise of pure satisfaction. His blood racing through his bloodstream, he ran his hands down her sides to her bottom and drew her into the cradle of his thighs.

She wriggled slightly against him and a groan escaped his throat. Sliding his fingertips beneath her panties, he touched her silky bare skin.

She pulled his tie loose and tugged at his shirt buttons, and it dimly occurred to him that if this was how Kate reacted to a charitable donation, he might become the biggest philanthropist in St. Albans.

He pulled her shirt loose, then backed down onto the sofa and urged her down on his lap. The sight of her br**sts swelling over the cups of her lace bra reminded him how responsive she’d been the night they’d shared together, how she’d held back nothing.

Needs denied roared through him like a freight train. He lowered his mouth to her br**sts and nuzzled her bra down to taste her nipple. He heard her swift intake of breath as she grew taut in his mouth. He slid his hand upward between her thighs and felt her damp and swollen. The sensation only made him more hungry for her.

He wanted all barriers removed between them. He wanted her n**ed and straddling him. He wanted to fill her as she pumped him into oblivion. Michael ripped her panties and rubbed his thumb over her tender engorged bead of sensation. Her breath came in short gasps. He could feel her nearing the precipice, and the sound was excruciatingly arousing to him. Closer. Closer.

The phone rang. Once, twice, penetrating the thick, steamy intimacy surrounding them. Kate pulled back slightly, her cheeks flushed, the pupils of her eyes large with arousal, her lips swollen. She stared at him while the phone rang as if she knew one of them should be answering it, but she couldn’t coordinate her mind and body. “Can you get that?” she finally asked in a husky whisper.