Wanted by the Boss: Sleeping with the Boss / Cowboy Boss / Billionaire Boss. Maureen Child

nodded. ‘‘Together.’’

      Staring down at the tiny window where the results were displayed, she saw the tiny pink plus sign. Her stomach fisted. She heard his quick intake of breath. Her fingers tightened on the plastic. ‘‘Since it’s pink, do you suppose that means it’s a girl?’’

      If he could have figured out how to do it effectively, Rick would’ve kicked his own ass. Stupid, he thought. Stupid and careless and now…caught.

      From his chair at the two-person table, he watched Eileen move around the small homey kitchen. She’d already made a pot of coffee and now she busily brought cups and a plateful of homemade chocolate chip cookies to the table. She hadn’t said a word in fifteen minutes and the silence was beginning to stretch a little thin. Although, Rick thought, he really couldn’t blame her for not speaking. Hell, he couldn’t think of anything to say, either. An apology didn’t seem right, but congratulations was clearly out of the question, too.

      When she finally sat down opposite him, she poured a cup of coffee for each of them, picked up a cookie and proceeded to nervously turn it into crumbs.

      Rick reached across the table and covered her hands with his. ‘‘We have to talk about this.’’

      Her gaze lifted to his and he tried to read the emotions darting across the meadow-green surface of her eyes. But they shifted and changed so quickly it was impossible to nail one down.

      ‘‘Look Rick,’’ she said after a long minute, ‘‘I know you’re trying to help, but honestly, I don’t want to talk about it right now.’’

      ‘‘But we have some decisions to make.’’ Hell, they had a ton of decisions to make.

      She smiled, shook her head and leaned back in the chair. ‘‘I’m not deciding anything tonight.’’

      ‘‘Eileen, this is serious.’’

      ‘‘Really?’’ She took a bite of her cookie, chewed it and swallowed. ‘‘You mean being pregnant isn’t a joke? It’s not all fun and games? Wow. I’ll alert the media.’’

      ‘‘Funny.’’

      ‘‘Didn’t mean to be.’’ She ate the rest of her cookie and reached for another one.

      ‘‘Is chocolate really the answer?’’

      ‘‘Chocolate can solve just about anything.’’

      ‘‘Not this.’’

      ‘‘I said, just about. Besides, it’s worth a try.’’

      He pushed his chair back and the legs scraped against the worn linoleum with a screech. Standing up, he came around the table, reached down and grabbed her hands, then pulled her to her feet.

      Her eyes looked bruised, worried and that ate at him. If she hadn’t come to help him out—to do him a favor, they never would have connected again and she wouldn’t be standing here pregnant.

      With his child.

      That last sentence bounced around the inside of his heart and cracked the edges of it just a little. A child. He’d never expected to be a father. Well, certainly not after his wife had left him. When he first got married, he’d convinced himself that he was in love. That he and Allison would build a family together. But then in a few short months, he’d discovered that Allison had had her eye on his bank account, not their future.

      When she left, his dreams had died. And out of the ashes, he’d built a new company and a new life for himself. If that life was a little lonelier than he’d once imagined he would be, at least it was a fair trade-off. He’d never have to watch another woman walk out of his life.

      Now, suddenly, the rules had changed on him again. Now there was a tiny life inside Eileen that existed because of him. Whether or not they’d wanted this to happen, it had. And he wouldn’t brush it aside. Wouldn’t walk away. He’d be damned if he’d abandon his own child as his parents had done to him.

      And since walking away wasn’t an option, there was only one thing left.

      ‘‘Eileen,’’ he said, staring down into the eyes that had haunted him since first seeing her walk into his office more than a week ago, ‘‘marry me.’’

      She blinked, shook her head and blinked again. ‘‘What?’’

      ‘‘You heard me.’’

      ‘‘I know what I think I heard, but pregnancy must affect your hearing.’’ She tried to pull away from him, but he held her tight. ‘‘You’re just reacting—you’re not thinking rationally.’’

      He laughed shortly and let her go. ‘‘You? Teaching me about rational?’’

      ‘‘Somebody has to.’’ Eileen reached up and scooped her hair back from her face. She felt trapped. Standing with her back to the wall, the fridge on one side of her, the table on the other and Rick blocking the way out, she suddenly couldn’t catch her breath. Pent-up emotions charged through her body, closing her throat and sheening her eyes with tears she didn’t want to cry.

      She needed time to herself to figure this out. To deal with everything that was crowding her mind and her heart. She was pregnant. She had a baby inside her. Living. Growing. Oh, my.

      ‘‘Marry you?’’ she repeated, and pushed him out of her way so she could walk past him, ‘‘God, Rick. I’m about ten minutes pregnant and you want to plan a wedding?’’

      ‘‘It’s the right thing to do.’’

      ‘‘Sure,’’ she said over her shoulder as she stalked into the living room, ‘‘if you’re living in a movie from the fifties.’’

      He was right behind her. And suddenly, her living room seemed a lot smaller than usual.

      Grabbing her forearm, he turned her around to face him. ‘‘Eileen, that’s my baby you’re carrying.’’

      ‘‘Rick, it’s too soon to talk about this.’’ She needed quiet. She needed to think. To feel. To plan. Good God. She, Eileen Ryan, needed a plan? The woman who hadn’t planned anything in years? If she wasn’t so scared, she might have laughed at the idea.

      ‘‘Fine,’’ he said, and let her go, taking a step backward as if to keep himself from reaching for her again. ‘‘It’s too soon. But—’’ he waited for her to meet his gaze before continuing ‘‘—I have to know you’ll talk to me before you decide anything.’’

      His features were taut, strained, and Eileen knew he was feeling the same turmoil racing through her, so she smiled as she reached up to cup his face in her palm. ‘‘I promise. Just…give me a little time, okay?’’

      A few hours later, Eileen let herself into Larkspur, shutting the front door quietly behind her. Instantly she was enveloped in the commingled perfume of flowers. The scents of chrysanthemums, roses, sweet peas and dozens of others filled the small shop.

      Strings of tiny white lights outlined the two large windows that fronted Pacific Coast Highway and threw shadows around the small showroom. Galvanized buckets of water crouched in the center of the room, holding the flowers that didn’t need refrigeration to retain their freshness. Across the room were the glass refrigerator cases, where the roses, orchids and other more fragile flowers stood waiting their chance to be admired.

      She hit the overhead light switch and a bank of fluorescent lights flickered to life, dropping shadows around the room. Eileen walked into the back room where the florist supplies were kept. Glass vases in varied shapes and sizes and colors were stacked on a series of shelves. Nearby, there was florists tape and shears and green foam and everything else required to build the fantasy flower arrangements Larkspur was known for.

      Everything was neat as a pin. The floor was freshly swept and the cuttings from the day had been carried out to the trash can