The Boss's Baby Bargain. Karen Sandler

      “I’m marrying Lucas Taylor. My boss.”

      Sherril was quiet so long, Allie wondered if the connection had been broken. Finally she said, “I had no idea there was anything going on between you two.”

      Allie forced a laugh. “Neither did we. Just kind of sneaked up on us, I guess.”

      “Well…congratulations, then. When’s the wedding?”

      Allie braced herself for her sister’s reaction. “End of September.”

      “What! I’ll still be pregnant then,” Sherril moaned. “Unless this beast decides to come early like his sister did. How am I going to find a whale-sized matron of honor dress?”

      Allie smiled, pleased at Sherril’s assumption she would be matron of honor. “I’m sure we can find something. Besides, this way, I have at least a hope of outshining you at the wedding.”

      “Allie, I gave up the crown of prettiest sister to you with my first set of stretch marks. Are you having it at the church?”

      “Yes, the minister was able to fit us in, even at such short notice.” Reverend Harmon had been so delighted at her news. Even now, Allie felt a stab of guilt at the lies she’d told him. “The reception will be at Lucas’s estate.”

      Allie filled Sherril in on the remainder of the details, then begged her to pass on the news to their brother, Stephen. She simply didn’t have the energy to spar with her brother, who still thought his baby sister needed his protection.

      After she hung up the phone, Allie headed outside to the apartment complex laundry room to shift her clothes to the dryer. As she fished quarters from her pocket to start the dryer, she realized even this mundane task would change when she moved to Lucas’s expansive estate. No more lugging laundry down two flights of outside stairs in the winter rain or blistering summer sun. No tossing quarters into a jelly jar to have them ready for laundry day.

      Would they wash their clothes together? Intermingling her life with Lucas’s in such an ordinary way seemed terribly intimate. It made their upcoming marriage somehow more real, more valid.

      Rattled by the notion, Allie left her clothes tumbling in the dryer and returned to her apartment. The flashing light on her answering machine sent her heart into overdrive—had Lucas called her after all? But it was only her brother Stephen, demanding she call him back tonight.

      The last thing she needed was Stephen and his lectures. She’d committed herself to Lucas, to their marriage. Her brother’s haranguing would only heighten her doubts.

      Flipping on the TV, she watched a mindless cop show as she waited for her laundry to finish. Lucas never did call, but Stephen did, twice more. Allie resolutely ignored him each time.

      With morning light spilling into his office, Lucas paced in agitation. In the week since he’d proposed marriage to Allie, he still hadn’t regained his focus. Each day his preoccupation with his admin assistant grew until it had become a nearly unmanageable obsession.

      When he first arrived in the mornings he was barely able to pass her desk without touching her, without threading his fingers through her hair and tipping her head up to kiss her. He could hardly make it through their morning reviews, the urgency to round the desk and pull her into his arms so overwhelmed him. Sometimes her gaze met his as they worked together and he could see the wariness in her eyes. She had to sense his attraction for her.

      His only recourse was to rush her through the recitation of his schedule, to hurry her out of his office. But her absence seemed to tantalize him more than her presence. Just the thought of her expressive green eyes set off a throbbing low in his body, a response he couldn’t seem to control. Fantasies played themselves out in his mind—of him calling Allie into his office, tugging the dove-gray sleeveless shirt she wore today from the matching skirt, slipping his hand under it to cup her breast. Then lifting her to the desk, parting her legs and—

      Damn, he had to get himself under control. He strode behind his desk and forced himself to sit. Locking his fingers together, he gripped them tightly on his desk.

      If he couldn’t keep his hands off her in these weeks before their wedding, how the hell would he do it once they were married? Once they were sharing his home, he wouldn’t have a prayer if he didn’t keep his rampant desires in line now. And he damn well intended to keep that promise.

      Lucas dragged in a long breath and let it out. Most of the women he knew looked at sex the way he did—a necessary physical release. No messy emotions to get in the way. But Allie—still young and idealistic and full of hope—she might think physical intimacy meant more than it did. And the last thing he needed was Allie believing she was in love with him.

      Unclenching his hands, he lifted a small Post-it square from the left side of his desk and repositioned it on the right. The note had been there all week, a glaring reminder of the upcoming wedding. On the pale-yellow square of paper, Allie had written down the name of the Methodist church in Fair Oaks and the time and date of the ceremony. Reverend Frank Harmon, she’d penned across the bottom of the note, the neat flowing loops of her script as feminine as the woman who wrote them.

      A knock on his office door sent tension zinging up his spine. He dragged a folder to the center of his desk and opened it, dipping his head down to the stack of papers he should have been reviewing. “Enter.”

      Allie slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. As she crossed the office, her soft skirt rippled around her, shaping itself to the curves of her body. “Could we talk?” The faintest trace of irritation colored her tone.

      He closed the folder with precise care. “Certainly.”

      She stood before his desk, shoulders thrown back. “You might be able to see our marriage as a cold-blooded business deal, but I can’t. Even though we’re not marrying for love, we’re going to live together for the next two years. We ought to get to know each other better.”

      He struggled to focus on what she was saying, distracted by the way the late-morning sun lit her slender form. Would her skin feel warmer under that yellow glow? He shook off the image. “What do you want, Allie?”

      “I want you to stop avoiding me.”

      “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

      She just stared at him a moment, her expression telling him she knew a snow job when she heard one. “I want to spend some time with you, Lucas. I want a chance to get to know you a little better before the wedding.”

      It wasn’t an unreasonable request, if you ignored the heat rippling through his body that urged him to get to know her much, much better. More time spent with her meant an even greater trial for his libido. But hell, he was a grown man. He ought to be able to give Allie what she wanted without breaking his promise of a platonic relationship.

      She stood there, watching him, no doubt preparing her next argument if he turned her down. Lord, she was a hell of a fighter.

      “What am I doing for lunch?” he asked her.

      The question caught her off guard. She glanced around her as if seeking her laptop. “No meetings scheduled.”

      “I have one now,” he said. “With you.”

      Her brilliant smile cut straight to his heart, setting off a flurry of unfamiliar emotions. Before he could catch his balance again, she’d moved around his desk and bent to put her arm around his shoulders. “Thank you,” she murmured in his ear.

      The warmth of her breath teased him, the nearness of her crumbled his good intentions. Before she could straighten, he’d curved his hands around her face, brought her mouth to his.

      His fingers dove into her silky black hair, the softness against his skin a sweet torment. He brushed his mouth against hers, telling himself with each light touch to back off, to push her away. But when he’d kissed her a week ago, he’d had only the briefest taste. The memory of it had haunted him every night, stealing his sleep, infiltrating his dreams.