The Boss's Baby Arrangement. Catherine Mann

On instinct, she drew her knee to chest.

      Xander followed. The edge of worry ebbed but refused to fade.

      “I’m sure you can swim. But humor me. You may not know you’re injured.”

      “I don’t want to slow you—”

      “And I don’t want to hang out here in the swamp with gators and God only knows what else in addition to the leaking gas. Quit arguing.” No room for negotiation in that tone. It must be the same voice Xander used in boardroom meetings.

      “Okay, then. Swim.”

      His arms around her, she felt warmth leap from his body to hers. Feeling small and protected for the first time in ages. The muscles in his arm grew taught and retracted as he moved them through the water. Steadying her breathing, pushing her fear far away.

      The water gave way to mucky sand and he helped her wade through that all the way to the shoreline.

      Her body shook of its own accord. As if by reflex, he wrapped her into a tight hug and her head fit snugly beneath his chin.

      The world, which a moment ago was filled with panic and fear, stilled. His breath on her cheek warmed her bones with more intensity than the tropical sun.

      In that space, adrenaline fell back into her bloodstream. But fear didn’t motivate that move this time. Awareness did as he held her close, breathing faster, somehow keeping time with her ragged heart. His body felt like steel against hers as she pulled away from him, her eyes catching his, watching as they fell away to her lips.

      She hadn’t imagined it, then, noting his desire.

      “Maureen?” Her name sent the world crashing back into place. Willing her eyes away from his, she looked over her shoulder to see his in-laws and Easton standing a short distance away.

      Knowing he needed coverage, even if just for a moment, she turned to face them, careful to stay angled in front of Xander. As if he’d done it a thousand times before, his hands fell to her shoulders. A mild but welcome distraction.

      Xander’s in-laws were visibly distraught.

      “Are you okay?” Xander’s father-in-law asked, face crumpled like he smelled something rotting. Maureen nodded dully, afraid her words might betray something private and real about this moment.

      The man shifted focus from Maureen to Xander. “And you?”

      “Yes. Thankfully. More of a scare than any real harm.” His hands squeezed Maureen’s shoulder blades before dropping. Immediately she felt the echo of his absence from her skin.

      His mother-in-law sniffed in response. “Honestly. What if that had been Rose? I’m just glad she wasn’t out here. A nature refuge is lovely, of course—” ice entered her words “—but such a dangerous, unpredictable place isn’t so well suited for our grandchild.”

      Maureen squinted at the woman’s response, which felt more like a warning than anything else.

      * * *

      Hours separated him from the gator run-in and he still couldn’t think straight.

      He’d always been a pro at compartmentalizing events, locking his personal life away so he could focus on whatever task at hand. That proved infinitely difficult with this afternoon’s events.

      As if his mind was a film loop, he kept revisiting Maureen falling in the water, a gator just a few feet away. The moment she looked like she was struggling sent him tumbling into action—a reflex and urge so primal, he couldn’t ignore it.

      Nor could he ignore the way she’d looked, soaked to the bone in her swimsuit. The feel of her shuddering with relief when they were on solid ground. How that relief reverberated in his own gut as he’d looked at her full lips.

      There was no denying how turned on he was. The connection he’d felt to her in that beachside embrace had made him so damn aware of her. Sure, she’d always been attractive. He knew that, but there was something so sexy about the way she’d endured the gator run-in.

      He wanted her, down to his core. All day, his thoughts drifted to her.

      Did life ever get easy?

      Watching his in-laws with his daughter provided a quick answer to that question. Delilah and Jake weren’t mean—they were matter-of-fact. Particular. Things had to be just so.

      Reflecting back on Terri’s perfect makeup and clothes, he saw what a lifetime of being scrutinized could do. How that constant second-guessing had sometimes wrought Terri up with anxiety. Especially when her parents came for a visit. She’d agonize on the arrangement of pillows and the tenderness of the pasta. Her mother and father always had a critique, a method of alleged perfection. Deep down, he knew they meant well.

      Seeing Delilah straighten Rose’s bow and quietly comment on staying proper rubbed him the wrong way. He wanted his daughter to grow up confident in her own worth.

      He wanted to bring up his child.

      “You know, Xander, we could help you with Rose. Keep her until school starts. We’re retired now and we can devote all of our attention to her.” Delilah’s polished voice trilled. She had been hunched over Rose, examining the little girl’s drawing.

      “Ah, well, I know she looks forward to seeing you both. I think that helps enough,” he said sympathetically. The pain of loss seemed to form a permanent line on her brow.

      “Barry, our family friend and lawyer, you remember him? He mentioned that the court might see an arrangement with us to suit Rose better. We know how hard you work. We have the time to devote to her that you may not right now.” Jake stood behind Xander, resting a hand on his shoulder.

      The blood beneath his skin fumed, turned molten. He had to keep his cool. “Well, I know how much you love Rose. But it’s time for her to nap. She’s still not feeling well.”

      Smoothing her dress, Delilah nodded. “Yes, she does need rest.”

      “I’m sure you feel similarly. You both should probably get settled in your hotel.” His even tone held a challenge in it. He needed separation from them. Boundaries.

      Especially now, because their intent had come into full view. They were here to spy on his proficiency as a father.

      A more sinister thought entered his mind. What if they just snatched her away? It echoed in his mind as he saw them off the property and as he walked back into the room where his daughter slept. He looked at Elenora, a woman in her fifties with kind brown eyes, and left instructions with a caution about the issue with his in-laws. Elenora had to stay with Rose, and if anyone tried to come on the property, he was to be alerted at once.

      The woman nodded her understanding. Feeling satisfied, he walked to his other unofficial charge. He went to find Maureen. Needed to make sure she was okay after her accident. There had been no time to actually check on her—not with his in-laws so close by.

      Striding over to the clinic—another retrofitted and well-windowed building—his pace quickened. An urgency to move filled him. The stress of his in-laws, their constant reminders of the danger of the refuge and the way he was raising Rose. It all slammed into him.

      Opening the door to the clinic, the sour smell of oil assaulted him. He turned the first corner in the building to see Maureen and a gaggle of oil-soaked seabirds. When the boat tipped, oil had seeped into the water and drenched the feathers of about five birds. The refuge had rounded them up for cleaning.

      Maureen worked quickly, using the Dawn dish soap generously to lift the layers of oil from delicate feathers. He studied her, once again reminded of the intense gut-kick he’d felt earlier when she’d fallen into the water. The fear of loss knotted. He hated that fear.

      Maureen cooed at the birds, mimicking their squawks with absolute precision. From a distance, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d felt like she was actually talking to them. A real conversation. Her heart seemed to soar with delight as every inky layer