Expecting the Boss's Baby (4 page)

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he reached blindly for the receiver. “Yes,” he murmured.

“Michael?”

The unsteady voice bore a vague resemblance to Kate’s. “Kate?”

“I’m sorry to bother you so late,” she said. “I would have called Donna, but she just went out of town on a business trip.”

Michael’s gut gave an uneasy twist. She sounded as if she were holding back tears. “Stop apologizing and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Well, I need a ride,” she said. “I—uh—don’t have my car.”

He sat upright in bed. “Where are you?”

“The duplex beside me had a little gas problem.”

Michael felt the cord of tension inside him knot. “Where are you?” he asked again, rising from bed and grabbing his jeans.

“There was a fire and there was a lot of smoke—”

“Kate, where are you?”

“At St. Albans General Hospital.” Her voice cracked, and he felt something inside him crack too. “Could you come and get me?”

M
ichael jerked on his clothes and defied the speed limit. He’d barely cut the engine before he stepped out of his car and raced into the emergency room. He approached the receptionist’s desk, and Kate walked straight into his arms.

Unprepared for an action that demonstrated such pure trust, he stood still, stunned. It was a totally new sensation. She smelled of smoke. Instinct kicked in and he tightened his arms around her, wanting to make sure she was okay. “What happened?”

“There was a fire,” she said, her face pressed into his shirt as if she wanted to absorb him. “Some of us suffered from smoke inhalation.”

Alarm clanged through him like a discordant bell, and he urged her head from his chest.
“Us?”

“They gave me oxygen,” she said. She looked as if she were struggling to remain composed. “I was worried about the baby,” she whispered, her face crumpling, the expression grabbing at something deep inside him.

Michael held his breath. “What did the doctor say?”

“The baby and I are fine.”

Michael breathed a sigh of relief at the same time as he battled frustration. “Why didn’t you call me?” he demanded.

“Everything happened so fast when the ambulance arrived, and then I had to wait. I was so scared,” she said, her voice quivering. “I wasn’t that worried about me. I just didn’t want anything to happen to the baby. I tried to call Donna, but she was gone. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Michael tightened his arms around her again. “You should have called me. For Pete’s sake, I’m going to be your husband,” he scolded, thinking he could have prevented this if he’d been with her. He should have prevented this.

She pushed her hair from her face. “I know, but we don’t really have a normal engagement.”

“You’re going to have to get used to calling me,” he told her. “I may not know much about what husbands do, but I damn well know you call them in an emergency.”

Staring at him as if some of his words were sinking in, she slowly nodded.

“I don’t think they want me to go back to my house yet.”

“Damn straight you’re not going back to your house. You’re coming to my apartment,” he said emphatically.

“But I don’t know where Parkay is and—”

“Parkay?” Michael struggled to follow her, wondering if, perhaps, the lack of oxygen had affected her brain.

“My cat. Parkay. She’s not much of an outside cat, so I need to go look for her.”

Michael shook his head. “It’s the middle of the night. You can’t go looking for a cat in your condition.” His mind clicked through possibilities. “I’ll take you home, then go look for her,” he said, although how in hell he would find a cat at night was beyond him.

He took her home and settled her into his apartment. “Take my bed,” he ordered, and when she started to protest, he cut her off. “You need the sleep. I’ll take the couch after I get your cat.”

So, at three o’clock in the morning, armed with an open can of tuna, Michael conducted a search-and-retrieval mission for Kate’s cat. By three-thirty, he had seven feline friends trailing after him, mewing. But none was a calico. He sneaked past the yellow caution tape and in through the back door. Using his flashlight, he searched through two
rooms until he caught sight of green eyes under Kate’s bed. Parkay clawed him until he gave her a bite of the tuna.

After he returned home, he allowed the cat to finish the tuna while he washed his scratches. Unable to sleep after the events of the night, he quietly pushed open the bedroom door and looked at Kate.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he watched her for several moments. She could have been hurt much worse tonight, he thought, and the prospect disturbed the hell out of him. At the office, Kate had always been capable and strong. He knew she still was, but he had never seen her more vulnerable than tonight. Sure, she had a strong stubborn chin, a young, fit and wholly sensual body and an intelligent mind. But she also had a tender heart and at times she pushed herself too far and too hard. She believed the best of people, sometimes when she shouldn’t. She’d believed the best of him.

His chest tightened.

She was too important to him. Too important to him to lose. Even if he didn’t deserve her.

He had the crazy urge to build a wall of protection around her, but knew it was impossible. Still she had to be protected, and he was the man to do it.

Kate awakened the next morning to the sound of a cat purring. She opened her eyes to find Par
kay curled in a ball next to her stomach. She smiled. Michael had found her. Stretching, she glanced around the sparsely furnished room and her gaze stopped on the nightstand. Salted crackers and soda. Her chest squeezed tight.

He had come for her last night. He had come through for her last night. She felt a softening inside her, a glimmer of hope. Then his words echoed through her mind, snuffing it out.
I don’t believe in love.

She sighed and sat up. She was in his bed, she realized, rubbing her fingers over the sheets. She had dreamed of sharing his life, sharing his bed. But not this way.

She tugged the sheet up to her nose and sneaked in a quick breath of his scent, then pushed crazy dreams aside and got out of bed. Glancing around the room, she looked for pictures on the wall and saw none. She looked for books. Still none.

Frowning, she pushed open the door and walked down the hall to the kitchen. The complete absence of Michael’s personal expression throughout the house surprised her.

“Good morning,” he said from behind her, making her jump. She whipped around to find him looking down at her. His gaze swept over her. “I like my shirt on you.”

She tugged at the collar and crossed her arms over her chest, then dropped them to her sides. She
rubbed her thighs together, all too aware of her bareness beneath his shirt. There was something just a little different about the way he was looking at her. His gaze held a tinge of possessiveness edged with tenderness. Kate blinked and the expression was gone.

“Thank you for coming for me last night and for giving up your bed. I was just looking around your apartment. Why aren’t you at work?” she blurted out, unable to stifle her curiosity.

He waved his hand toward another room which held a desk, a raft of papers and a laptop. “I’m working from the laptop this morning. How are you?” he asked, and his gaze turned assessing.

“Fine. I’m great compared to last night. I’m sorry I was a little weepy.” She smiled. “My stiff upper lip is back this morning.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t break out in hives from your tears.”

“True,” she said, remembering how he had held her. She glanced at his hands and saw scratch marks. Wincing, she reached for one. “Parkay?”

He nodded. “She was under your bed and didn’t want to come out.”

“Ingrate,” she said.

“Tuna helped, but I almost had to bring home a lot of her friends.”

“Oh I bet you were popular with all the kitties.” She released his hand and sighed. “How long have you been here? Did you move in recently?”

“Three years ago,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve been busy.”

“But there are no pictures, no plants. Do you have a CD player?”

“I think my alarm clock has a radio, but I kill plants.”

She bit back a moan. “Michael, there’s nothing of you here.”

“Almost all of me has been at the office.” He glanced at his watch. “Which is where I’m going now that I know you’re okay.” He backed away to turn off his computer and load it in his attaché. “Call me if you need anything.”

Wondering if she’d made him uncomfortable with her questions, she joined him at the door. “Michael,” she said, drawing his attention back to her.

He looked down at her, and she acted on an impulse. Standing on her toes, she kissed him lightly. “Thank you.”

He slid his arm around her waist and gave her a deeper, hungry kiss. “Tonight.”

He left and she leaned against the door, touching her lips as they buzzed. Her entire body buzzed. She covered her eyes and shook her head. “Get a grip.”

She looked up, her gaze taking in her barren surroundings, and decided to make a few changes. By the time Michael arrived home tonight, his apartment would at least be more comfortable. It
was the least she could do. The man had rescued her cat and been there when she called him.

Michael arrived home late that night to the sound of Santana gently playing on a boom box and the kitchen table set with new china and flatware. A pitcher in the center of the table held a small bunch of spring flowers. Candles had been lit and snuffed out, and he inhaled the mouthwatering scent of something Italian. He glanced in the refrigerator and spotted lasagne.

Michael blinked. His refrigerator usually only held stuff like beer and soda, occasionally juice and a few leftovers that resembled chemistry experiments gone bad. Lasagne.

Closing the door, he tugged at his tie and walked through the apartment in search of Kate. He found her asleep in his bed with a book folded over her stomach. Parkay lay at her feet.

She had waited for him, he realized. It was an odd feeling. He couldn’t remember anyone waiting for him. A whispery sweet feeling snuck under his skin. Damn strange thing. He liked it and felt uncomfortable with it at the same time. Frowning, he dismissed the sensations and turned his attention back to Kate.

He carefully lifted the book from her stomach and set it on the nightstand. She rolled over onto her side, causing her nightshirt to gap slightly. The sight of her dusky nipple reminded him how she
had felt in his hands, how she had tasted in his mouth. So incredibly responsive. He remembered how soft her inner thighs had felt when he’d coaxed them apart, and her femininity softer still as he’d slid inside her.

He wasn’t exactly sure how she did it, but her combination of head and heart reminded him he was a man instead of a machine. She reminded him of needs and desires he’d made a habit of turning off like a faucet. He liked the way she looked in his bed, he thought, but he’d like it better still when they would share it. Soon.

The following morning, Kate rose early with the intention of getting back to her duplex. She’d spent the entire day yesterday trying to add small touches of comfort to Michael’s apartment. She had so wanted to surprise and please him. Although he hadn’t known she’d prepared a meal for him, she wished she had known he would be late so her feelings weren’t so squashed.

As she nibbled a cracker and dressed, she told herself her feelings should not be hurt. If she kept repeating it, maybe she would believe it.

She took a deep breath as she left the bedroom and smelled coffee brewing. Michael was up and dressed already. No surprise, there, she thought with true envy. The man required far less sleep than normal humans, especially this pregnant human.

“I’m sorry I missed dinner,” he said, glancing up from his coffee.

“No big deal. It was just a thank you for giving me and Parkay a place to land.”

“You went to a lot of trouble. I think my refrigerator is in shock from having something other than beer and soda in it.”

She felt a sliver of amusement. “I think both of you may be in shock. I hope you’ll get a chance to enjoy it. You can reheat small portions of it in the microwave here or at the office. I appreciate you sharing your apartment, but I’ll get out of your hair now. I’m going back to the duplex today to air it out, and I’m hoping it will be livable by tonight.”

Michael frowned. “I don’t think you should go back.”

“The gas problem is repaired and I’ve been given the all-clear sign.”

“Move in here,” he said. “We’re going to be married in less than two weeks.”

Butterflies danced in her stomach at the thought. “My parents will be here in a few days, and my mother will want to be a part of the wedding planning. In fact I’m going to let her plan most of it. I still can’t believe I’m doing this,” she murmured.

“Why?”

“It’s just not what I envisioned for myself.”

“You didn’t envision getting pregnant,” he said.

“Not before the wedding,” she said. “And not by my boss.”

“What did you envision?”

Uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny, Kate glanced away. “I don’t know. In my mind, I guess I thought I would date someone for a while, and there would be a courtship, and then he would propose.” She shook her head. “You and I have it backwards. We haven’t even been on a date. There’s so much we don’t know about each other. What if we get married and don’t like each other?”

Hearing the frantic edge to her voice, Michael took her arms and looked into her eyes. “That’s not going to happen. You’re panicking, but you believe it’s the right thing to do.”

She moved her head in a circle. “Kinda.”

“Kate…” he said, searching for a way to reason with her.

“I’m not sure how to explain this, but it’s like a merger. Usually you learn everything about the company you’re merging with, you court them and negotiate differences. But you and I, we’re signing the contract first,” Kate mused.

As far as Michael was concerned, the sooner they married, the better. “I know the best way to solve this.”

“How?”

“You need to be sleeping with me.”

Kate groaned. “That’s what got me in trouble in the first place.”

“So you can’t get into any worse trouble now.”

She shot him a dark look that alternated between sexy and wary. “That’s a matter of opinion,” she said and flounced toward the door. She stopped when she put her hand on the knob. “There is one other thing,” she said, not turning to face him.

Her reluctance to look at him piqued his curiosity. “Yes?”

“I realize it will be a challenge, but when we’re around my parents, you need to act like you’re crazy about me. It will be hard, but if you use one-tenth of the energy and creativity you’ve used for your business, you might be able to pull it off.”

Then she whisked out of the door, treating him to a tempting view of her curvy backside. Michael couldn’t decide if he’d just been complimented or insulted. Perhaps both.