The Boss, the Bride & the Baby. Judy Duarte

just noted the intensity in his furrowed brow. She’d also been checking out his profile and the way his hair appeared to have an expensive cut, yet was stylishly mussed. In that Western wear—the worn jeans and chambray shirt rolled at the forearms—he looked like a Texas rancher. And a handsome one at that.

      She tried to imagine him in a designer suit, seated at a board meeting in a high-rise building that looked out at the city skyline. He surely had to be quite impressive. Either way, Jason Rayburn was the kind of man who could turn a woman’s head.

      He’d certainly turned hers. But she didn’t dare let her attraction get out of hand.

      “Would you like some more OJ?” he asked.

      “No, thank you. I’ve had plenty already.” In her condition, she had to use the bathroom a lot more than usual. And after all the orange juice she’d had already, she’d be lucky if she could make it through the night without waking at least once.

      “This probably isn’t any of my business,” he said, “but do you mind if I ask you something?”

      She’d always been fairly open and up-front, although she’d learned to be a lot more cautious recently. “It depends on what you want to know.”

      “I get the idea you’d like to relocate. I can see why you might want to live in a bigger city. But I also sense that you couldn’t leave Wexler fast enough. And that it might be due to bad memories.”

      She stiffened and leaned back in her chair. Her hand slipped protectively to her tummy. Instead of removing it, which she did whenever she’d found herself doing so in public, she opted to let it linger in the yellow glow of the porch light, allowing her baby the loving caress it deserved. “You’re right.”

      “About the bad memories?”

      “That the reasons aren’t ones I want to share.”

      Silence stretched between them like a balloon she’d blown too full. Just before the tension popped in her face, she added, “But yes, there are some bad memories, too.”

      “Related to your employment?”

      The man didn’t quit, did he? She turned to him, caught his eyes drilling into hers. Why the sudden inquisition? Shouldn’t his questions about her background and previous employment have come up earlier?

      Did she owe her new employer, albeit a temporary one, an answer to that line of questioning?

      Maybe and maybe not. But a brief yet truthful response might help to quell his curiosity and put this awkward discussion to rest.

      “Yes and no,” she said. “But if it eases your mind, I didn’t lie or steal. And when I left on my last day at work, my personnel file was unblemished. I wasn’t fired or laid off, though. I actually quit. If they have any complaints about me as an employee, it’s that I didn’t give a proper notice.”

      He nodded, and before he could quiz her any further, she added, “Just so you’ll feel better about hiring me and trusting me with your family business, I had a romance that went south rather suddenly, and I wanted to put as much distance between the two of us as I could. Brighton Valley is just a pit stop before I take off for good.”

      “I’m sorry,” he said.

      “About my breakup?”

      “About quizzing you and making you feel uncomfortable. But for the record, I’m actually glad you left the guy and his memory behind.”

      A slight smile tugged at her lips, but she tried to tamp it down. All she needed was to lower her guard to the point of doing or saying something she’d regret. And if she’d learned anything out here in the moonlight, she was going to have to stay on her toes around a man like Jason Rayburn.

      If he were like his brother, it wouldn’t be an issue. She knew Braden as well as she knew anyone in Brighton Valley. His mother’s family had been ranching in these parts for years. His grandfather was on the town council for a while. And his mom was involved in the women’s auxiliary at the Wexler Community Church. He came from decent people. In fact, she often wondered what his mom had ever seen in his father—especially if what she’d heard about Charles Rayburn was true.

      In spite of herself, Juliana risked another glance at Jason, watched him take a drink of his wine, then stare out into the night sky, where a full moon and a splatter of stars glistened overhead.

      But the stars weren’t the only things sparking. Her pregnancy hormones were surely coming into play and had to be triggering unwelcome romantic thoughts, which were totally inappropriate. She blamed it on her recent betrayal, the stillness of the evening and, yes, maybe a growing attraction.

      For all those reasons, she couldn’t continue to sit outside with him tonight. It could only lead to trouble—or at the very least, temptation.

      She had a job to do—one that paid better than could be expected. And she intended to make the best of it.

      Even if she didn’t land an interview or a possible position with Rayburn Energy or Rayburn Enterprises, she could use a good recommendation, because she wasn’t likely to get a very good one from the gallery.

      In fact, after the details of her romance and breakup became known within local art circles—and they certainly could have by now—she knew better than to ask for any kind of reference at all.

       Chapter Three

      Juliana had lost track of how many sheep had jumped over her bed that night—surely a flock that would make a Basque sheepherder rich.

      Blaming the two goblets of orange juice she’d drunk while on the porch with Jason for her need to get up every couple of hours, she gave up the struggle for sleep just after midnight. She remembered reading somewhere that warm milk might help, but there wasn’t any in the refrigerator. Chamomile tea was another option, although she didn’t recall seeing anything like that in the pantry.

      A trip to the market was definitely in order, especially if she was going to do any more cooking while she was on the Rayburn ranch. Since she was wide-awake, she figured she might as well head to the kitchen and start a grocery list.

      With that in mind, she rolled out of bed and pulled her robe from the closet. She didn’t bother with slippers. As she took a moment to stroke the slight bulge of her womb, she pondered the phrase barefoot and pregnant.

      How fitting was that?

      As she opened the door, she noticed the light on in the den. Had Jason forgotten to turn it off when he went to bed?

      She padded down the hall. When she turned into the doorway, she spotted him seated at the desk, glaring into the screen of his laptop. She studied him for a moment.

      He’d run his fingers through his hair numerous times this evening. Yet even mussed, it didn’t appear the least bit scruffy. Compliments of a highly paid stylist, no doubt.

      He frowned as he stared at his laptop, his brow furrowed. Yet even the intensity of his expression didn’t take away from his appeal.

      She had no idea how long she stood there gazing at him, admiring his handsome profile, as well as his work ethic. A couple of minutes, she supposed.

      Finally, he looked up and noticed her watching him in the doorway. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

      She smiled. “I never really went to sleep. What are you doing?”

      “Problem solving. At least, that’s what I’m trying to do. We’re working on a marketing strategy that hasn’t been coming together for us, and I’ve been racking my brain to figure out what’s missing.”

      “I wish I could help.”

      “So do I, but the best brains at Rayburn Energy, including the head of the marketing department, haven’t been able to agree on the best layout.”