Expecting the Boss's Baby

The hurt emanated from her in waves. “The whole idea of marriage is foreign to me. You’re going to have to tell me what you want. This is not my area of expertise.”

“Women don’t like to have to say everything they want. They want men to—”

“—guess,” Michael interjected. “Often incorrectly. This is too damn important to be guessing, Kate.”

She took a deep breath. “I still don’t know.”

“Quitting after a month?” he asked, challenging her pride.

Kate glowered at him. “I want to have dinner together five or six nights out of seven. I want us to go house-shopping together. Even though we didn’t have anything resembling a courtship, I’d still like to go out on a date. I want you to talk to me. I want you to need—” She broke off and shook her head as if she knew that was impossible. “I want you to let me know you. Really know you.”

Michael didn’t feel itchy until her last request. He’d almost rather trade his company than let anyone fully know him. One thing at a time. “Dinner tonight. Your choice of restaurant.”

“No,” she said.

Surprised and put off, he narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”

“The place you choose says something about you. It’s another way of letting me know you.”

Choosing a restaurant was considerably less painful than spilling his guts. Michael accepted her terms. “Good, I’ll pick you up at the apartment at six-thirty.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to go back to the apartment,” she said.

“Yes, you are,” he said, backing her against a corner post on the porch. “I may not fit your mold of the ideal husband, but there’s one very important thing I don’t do. I don’t bore you, and I’m betting just about every other man you’ve been involved with has.”

Kate gazed at him silently for a long moment. She wore a don’t-push-me expression and her black outfit hid what he knew—that her body was just beginning to show the signs of the baby she carried. He inhaled her scent. It amazed him how sexy he found her even in this tense sliver of time.

“Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll be at the apartment tonight.”

Something inside him eased and the urge to make love to her pushed and pulled. Reining it in, he lifted her left hand and caressed her ring finger where she still wore the ring he’d given her. He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Tonight, then.”

That night, Kate fought her nerves and her hair. She scowled into the mirror. Why had she agreed to this? She should have stayed at the hotel, or at the very least moved back into her duplex. Michael might be fascinating, but he was difficult too, which meant her life would likely be difficult.

And fascinating, the small voice inside her said.

“Oh, shut up,” she muttered. “Listening to you is how I ended up pregnant and married.”

She adjusted the black sheath dress and turned to the side. She didn’t quite look pregnant yet. Just fat, she thought with another scowl. She heard the kitchen door open and jumped, dropping her lipstick. There was no reason for these nerves, she told herself. This may be a first date, but she was married to the guy, for Pete’s sake. She quickly applied the lipstick and left the bathroom.

Michael stood next to the kitchen counter glancing through the mail. He wore a dark sport jacket, white shirt and silk tie, and when he directed his attention from the mail to her, his expression was just this side of predatory. “You look good,” he said. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said, fighting her awkwardness. “Where are we going?”

“A surprise,” he said with an enigmatic gleam in his eyes and ushered her out the door.

They were quiet during the drive. When he pulled into a parking lot, and she saw the restaurant he’d chosen, she smiled in pleasure. Although she’d never been here, she’d always wanted to come. “The Vineyard,” she said. “I didn’t know this was one of your favorites.”

“It wasn’t. This will be my first visit.”

“How did you find it?”

He hesitated. “I did some research.”

Curious, Kate studied him. “Why do I sense there’s a story here?”

Michael sighed. “Do I have to reveal my sources?”

“Yes.”

“I sent an e-mail to five employees and one friend asking for their top three favorite restaurants along with descriptions. You’ll understand why I chose this one when we get inside.”

As soon as they were led to the table and placed their orders, Kate understood his choice. The restaurant boasted a ceiling of skylights, ficus trees with tiny white lights, and a waterfall in the center. “I love the greenery.”

“I thought you would. I pulled a few strings to get us next to the waterfall,” he said.

“Whose suggestion was this?”

“Dylan’s. He has a busy social life. Lots of different women.”

“You don’t sound envious,” she said.

He looked at her meaningfully. “I’m not.” He pulled out a handful of change and put it in the middle of the table. “Bet you can’t reach that stone on the other side with a coin.”

Challenged and charmed, she took three coins. “What do I get if I can?”

“What do you want?”

She thought for a long moment and felt a strange yearning swell inside her. He was such a dichotomy for her, such a challenge. She feared loving him, and at the same time she couldn’t stay away from him. “I want a story,” she said. “I want you to tell me something about yourself that I don’t already know.”

“Okay,” he said, with the same expression he might wear if she were giving him a tetanus shot.

She took a penny, aimed and missed by inches. She chose a nickel next, aimed and hit it.

“Something tells me there are a few things I don’t know about you,” he said, lifting his brow.

“I was pitcher for the high-school girls’ softball team and played intramurals in college,” she said with a smile. “Pay up.”

“My favorite ice cream is—”

“—raspberry sherbet. You have to do better.”

“I made excellent grades in high school without studying,”

“I could have guessed that,” she said.

He frowned at her. “I graduated number three in my high-school class.”

“That low?” she teased with a cheeky grin.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re demanding?”

Remembering what a challenging boss he’d been, she couldn’t contain her smile. “Talk about the pot calling the kettle—”

He lifted his hand to cut her off. “Okay. I wanted to learn to play the guitar when I was a teenager, but couldn’t afford one.”

She paused, trying to imagine Michael as a teenager. She suspected he’d grown up quickly after his mother died. “Very good. Acoustic or electric guitar?”

“Electric,” he said.

“You wanted to be a rock star!” she said, the realization delighting her.

“I did not,” he quickly denied. “Okay, I might have worn an Eric Clapton T-shirt for most of a year, but that was just a stage.”

“Did you play any sports?”

“Basketball in the gym at Granger’s. I kept a part-time job, so I didn’t have time for school team sports.”

“Always a working man,” she said, wondering if some of the same things that had driven him as a teen still drove him now.

“Dinner,” he said, closing the discussion as the waiter delivered the meal.

Kate saw a flicker of relief cross his face. Why, she wondered, did he find it so hard to talk about himself?

After dinner, Michael drove them to his apartment. It had been a long meal and the hour was late. A darkened kitchen and her cat greeted them. She reached for the light switch, but he covered her hand. “Leave it dark.”

Her heart flipped at the hint of sensuality in his tone. She allowed her hand to drop from the switch.

“I haven’t dated much in the last few years,” he said. “But I recall a tradition.”

“What’s that?” she asked, his nearness doing crazy things to her pulse. The darkness blocked everything out of her senses except him, the sound of his voice and his clean, musk scent.

“A good-night kiss,” he said, sliding his arm to her waist and drawing her to him. His lips, firm, yet full, brushed over hers. Side to side, he moved his mouth as if savoring the sensation of her. He was slow, seductive and so gentle it made her chest tighten up with tenderness and longing. He stood so close Kate wondered if he could hear her heart beat.

His tongue slid past her lips, still slowly, inviting her to taste him. He tilted her chin for better access and she couldn’t hold back a soft moan at the sweet richness of the moment.

He continued the kiss as if her mouth absorbed and fascinated him. Spreading his legs, he drew her lower body against his. She felt his swollen arousal, but his mouth was her focus.

With each seductive stroke of his tongue, she felt her br**sts grow heavy and a yearning tighten between her thighs. Instinctively, she rubbed against him.

Giving a groan of approval and pleasure, he gently ground her against him. Kate felt her breath slip away. It was so easy for her to want him, to want to feel the power of his arousal, to allow him to take her at the same time she took him. It would be so easy to make love with him now, here in the kitchen, against the wall, or in the bed she shared with him.

Justin’s taunt rang through her mind like an ill-tuned key on a piano. The hurt sliced through her again. She pulled back and dipped her forehead. The sounds of their fast breaths were mingled in the darkness. She felt the tug of unspent passion in her pulse and his.

“You’re remembering what Justin said,” Michael said in a low voice. “Forget it.”

Her heart twisted. “I can’t,” she said. “Not yet. Too soon.”