Название | The Boss's Special Delivery |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Raye Morgan |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Cherish |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408945230 |
“No. I’m not married.”
If anything, his gaze grew warmer. “No family of any sort?”
She shook her head. “My mother died about a year ago.”
“And your father?”
“I don’t have one.”
He frowned. “Everyone has a father.”
“Only in the biological sense,” she said.
She could tell he didn’t like that answer, but he let it go.
“How much do you make?”
She told him. It wasn’t like it was a secret. Everyone knew how much this job took in. She didn’t add the amount she made at her second job, but he didn’t need to know that.
“You’ll do better working for me.” He told her a figure that got her attention. “And you’ll get benefits, too. You’ll need that for when you have the baby.”
She shook her head. “My delivery fees will be covered.” She hesitated only a second or two, then went on. “I’m considering giving my baby up for adoption. The lawyer will take care of everything.”
The very air seemed to go still. And at the same time, something flashed across his face. He looked as though her statement had stunned him. His face was like stone but his eyes were blazing.
“What?” he said softly.
She licked her dry lips. She had expected surprise, maybe bemusement, but nothing like this.
“I think you heard me. Why the shock and amazement? I’m not married.”
She hated having to explain. The pain of having to make this decision bled freshly every time. She threw up her hands, half a gesture of exasperation, half a plea for understanding.
“I want what’s best for my baby. Adoption can be a wonderful thing. A nice couple who can’t have a child of their own would be a lot better for this child than anything I can promise.”
She hated that she sounded defensive, but there it was.
The muscle at his jaw worked for a moment as his gaze seemed to cut through to her bones. Was it the fact that she was considering putting her baby up for adoption that was bothering him so much? She didn’t know what else it could be. Something was sure going on inside him. Some emotional chord had been yanked with a vengeance. She watched curiously, wondering what he was thinking as his gaze dropped to study her rounded belly. But his eyes were cool and impenetrable and his face was giving nothing away.
“Let’s go,” he said shortly, putting a hand in the center of her back to help lead her out the door.
She balked. That hand felt too good—and too controlling at the same time. “Wait a minute. I’m feeling a bit bulldozed here.”
He nodded. “You want some time to think it over?”
“Yes. That would be helpful.”
His smile was humorless. “You’ll have plenty of time in the car on the way to the clinic.”
“But—”
“Am I going to have to pick you up and carry you again?”
She drew in her breath sharply. “No.” Biting her lip, she let him lead her. After all, what choice did she have?
Chapter Two
“I hope you don’t think I’m taking any clothes off.”
The first thing Annie noticed when she and Matt arrived at the clinic was that the place was empty. It was getting late. Obviously, the staff had all gone home for the night. Still, it made her feel a bit awkward. Not to mention suspicious.
That was actually somewhat new for her, but she was learning. Don’t trust anyone, especially studly-looking men with flattering words and a roving eye. She tugged her light sweater tightly around her shoulders and glared at Matt as though he were the archetypal representative of that very group.
“Because any test that needs me naked isn’t going to happen,” she added, just for emphasis.
To her surprise, instead of getting annoyed, he laughed out loud as he turned to look at her.
“No need for to strip down for this,” he assured her.
Ushering her into the room where various types of medical examination machines stood around like alert soldiers, he glanced at the way she was hugging her clothes around herself.
“But tell me—do you usually bundle up as though expecting snow when you’re preparing to be examined by a doctor?”
“Not with my real doctor,” she said archly.
“What do you think I am?” he asked as he motioned for her to take a seat on the end of the table. “A phony doctor?”
“That remains to be seen.”
Sliding the blood pressure cuff up her arm, he gave her a sardonic look. “So who is your real doctor?” he asked.
“Dr. Marin.”
He nodded, adjusting the tester and inflating the cuff, then listening as he watched it count down.
“Ah yes, Raul Marin,” he said as he released her again. “His son was a friend of mine in high school.” He jotted down her blood pressure reading and turned to get the fetal monitor set up. “Well, if you prefer, I can take you over to his office. It’s after office hours, but—”
“But that’s just the point. I don’t need a doctor. I need to go home.”
She frowned. How had she let him talk her into coming here, anyway? What she said was true. She needed to go home, get into bed, pull the covers up…and wait for all this to end.
But her argument didn’t seem to be swaying him at all.
“I think we can get a few tests in right now. Enough to reassure me that you and this baby are doing okay.”
“Oh, well, as long as you’re reassured, the world can rest easy tonight.”
Her sarcasm fell on deaf ears. He jotted down some figures on a chart, then turned and motioned for her to lie back on the table.
“Let’s see how that little guy is,” he said.
“Little guy.” She liked that. She’d purposefully avoided finding out the gender of her baby, and resisted the temptation to name the child. If she was going to give the baby up for adoption, becoming too close and intimate would just make things that much harder. But when he said “little guy,” her heart skipped a beat and she felt a sudden surge of warmth that almost brought tears to her eyes. He was obviously ready to feel an easy affection for this new life she was carrying. She had to blink hard to keep from letting him see how that touched her.
“Okay, Doctor.”
He glanced into her eyes. “Call me Matt.”
She bit her lip. “How about Mr. Allman?”
A muscle twitched at his jaw. She was finally needling him just a little too much, and when he responded, there was a thread of annoyance in his tone.
“Whatever, Annie. Call me Dumbo if that makes you feel safer.” He moved closer, freeing some cords that had become tangled. “Now just relax and we’ll get this over with.”
She put a hand over her belly, automatically protective. The baby was doing just fine. She was sure of it—as sure as she could be. She was taking all the right vitamins and appearing regularly for her checkups, even though it was difficult to pay for them. She might be seriously considering giving her baby up to someone else to raise, but that was because of how much she loved him…or her. She’d never felt so close to