The Boss's Baby Mistake. Raye Morgan

eyes. She wasn’t going to yield. He had to admire her for that. But it didn’t help his cause.

      She saw the consternation in his eyes and impulsively, reached out to touch his arm. “Believe me, if there was anything I could do to make this right for you, I would.” She shook her head. “But don’t you see? You can’t ask me to give up my baby. That just isn’t going to happen.”

      She was prepared to accept anger from him, or bitterness, or even frustrated rage. But instead he smiled. And then he reached out and gently touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers, while his dark gaze slowly scanned her features.

      Suddenly her heart was thumping in her chest, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he completely discounted the strength of her will, or because a very attractive man was touching her. Either way, she knew she was in trouble.

      But he was already drawing back, reaching into his pocket. “Here’s my home phone number,” he said, jotting it down on the back of one of his business cards. “And my address.” He handed her the card. “Let me have your number.”

      “Why?” she asked suspiciously.

      “So I can harass you with crank calls from dusk till dawn,” he said, giving her a look of pure exasperation. “Come on, Gayle. I need your number.”

      Sighing, she wrote down her number on another of his cards.

      “There,” she said, handing it over. “See how I trust you?”

      A faint smile played with the corners of his mouth as he pocketed the card. “Trust is a precious thing,” he said. “Precious and rare.”

      For the first time, she recognized the streak of bitterness in him, the source of the wary distrust that so often filled his eyes even when his lips were smiling. She wondered if his ex-wife had turned him into such a hard man, or if it was a trait he’d always had.

      “Why did you decide to have the artificial insemination?” Jack asked her suddenly.

      She looked at him, startled. The question seemed too blunt, too personal.

      “Why did you?” she countered.

      He hesitated. “I wanted a son,” he said at last. “And I didn’t want another wife.”

      She opened her mouth to ask more, but he was already shaking his head. “I told you I would explain it all to you at some point, but I don’t want to go into detail right now.” He raised one eyebrow. “Your turn.”

      She took a deep breath. “We decided on artificial insemination for the usual reason. We tried the routine way. It didn’t work.” And she set her lips. If he could withhold details, so could she.

      But he wasn’t asking for any. “So you thought you’d let professionals handle it,” he commented casually, sitting back with his elbows hanging over the back of the bench, looking at the fountain. His legs were stretched out in front of him, the wool fabric of his slacks pulled taut by the muscles of his thighs.

      Gayle noticed, then silently scolded herself for noticing.

      “How did you get the name of these clowns across the street?” he asked.

      “Through work. We have a health representative who does referrals.” She sighed. “They came very well recommended.”

      He nodded. “I researched the field extensively before I decided upon that clinic. They have a very good reputation.” He gazed at her speculatively. “But I thought you said you were unemployed.”

      “Laid off.” She pushed her hair back behind her ear. She didn’t want to think about that. She had enough problems on her plate right now. “Just recently.”

      “Sorry. But you would have had to quit, anyway. The baby…”

      “I also have to eat,” she said crisply. This situation wasn’t like it had been when her father died and the debts were piled to the ceiling. Still, she didn’t have a lot in savings. She had been planning to spend this afternoon job hunting, but that window of opportunity was fast closing. “I’m signed up with Top Techs, a temporary employment agency, but they haven’t called me with anything yet. I’m going to have to find something soon, though.”

      “Listen,” he said, turning toward her on the bench. “I can help you. Money is no object. Just—”

      “No!” She stared at him as though he’d suggested something horrible. “Never. I will not take money from you.”

      “Gayle, I’m the baby’s father.”

      She wanted to close her eyes and cover her ears. “How do I know that? I don’t have any proof that anything you’ve said about all this is true. For all I know, you made it up.”

      “You can check with the clinic. They’ll have to let you see the documentation. Your husband’s sample was accidentally destroyed and mine was taken out of turn. You’ll be convinced. I was.”

      He was quiet for a moment, then he turned toward her and gazed into her eyes. “You know something? I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you and your husband. But for me, I have to admit, things have worked out pretty well.”

      “What are you talking about?”

      “You. I think you’re just about what I would have ordered up as a mother for my child, if you had been in the mix when I had to make a choice.”

      She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but he went on anyway. “You’re smart, courageous, compassionate.” His eyes darkened. “And you’re very beautiful.”

      She gasped. “Beautiful?” He hadn’t said it as a casual compliment. He’d said it with conviction, as though he really meant it. Just the way he’d said it made her tremble inside.

      “Yes. Beautiful.” He took a strand of her hair and curled it around his forefinger, and the way he moved as he did so, slowly, provocatively, left her breathless. “Hasn’t anyone ever called you beautiful before?”

      “Never,” she whispered. And it was true.

      “What? Didn’t your husband speak English?”

      She felt she had to defend him. “He…well, he wasn’t very verbal about things like that.” Hank had never been very romantic. He’d loved her. He’d put her on a pedestal. But he hadn’t wanted to touch her very often.

      She knew without having to analyze it that Jack would have been a very different husband. She barely knew him and already she sensed he could be a passionate lover. Her heart was beating a wild dance in her chest. He was too close. She could feel the heat from his body. And his fingers tugging on her hair made her think of things she shouldn’t be thinking.

      “Gayle,” he said softly, “you’re an exceptionally beautiful woman. And what’s more, even though you’re seven months pregnant, you’re sexy as hell.”

      She felt as though she were drowning in his dark eyes. He was going to kiss her. Oh, she hoped so! She held her breath, waiting for his mouth to cover hers. She wanted to feel his lips so badly, she thought she would die without it.

      But luckily that was a delusion, because he didn’t kiss her at all. For just a moment, his gaze devoured hers, and he came ever closer. She waited, heart beating like a drum. But after a few excruciating seconds, he drew back and suddenly was acting as though nothing had happened.

      “Anyway,” he said casually, looking away, “the point is, we’ve got a mutual interest here. We both want you to have a calm, happy pregnancy. We both want our baby to be as healthy as possible. Agreed?”

      Our baby. The words shocked her back to reality. She looked at him, wondering if she’d imagined everything that had happened in the last few moments. He didn’t seem to think a thing of it. A flash of anger spiked through her, but she would die before she’d let him see how disappointed she was. “Yes,” she said faintly. “Now I’ve got to get