The Texan's Baby Proposal. Sara Orwig

but in giving the baby his name.

      No doubt about it, Lara was the right person to ask.

      Well, maybe there was one doubt...

      For an instant he thought of the moments when he’d had to bank an electrifying awareness of her as an appealing woman. Could he push aside that attraction? He had to, because Lara and he would both get what they wanted from the marriage. He’d get the ranch and she’d get the financial and maybe emotional support she needed for this pregnancy. Then, when they dissolved the marriage, they’d go their separate ways and both be happy about it and much better off because of the marriage of convenience.

      Meanwhile, he knew he could live with her and still continue their business relationship. After all, they didn’t need to go to bed with each other. He hadn’t gotten over the loss of his wife, and she had just broken an engagement.

      No matter how he looked at it, marriage to Lara would benefit both of them, as well as his family. It would benefit Lara’s baby, too. And some part of him wanted that. Somehow, helping the baby pleased him a lot and made him feel closer to the little baby of his own that he had lost.

      He looked up Lara’s number, picked up his phone and called to invite her to dinner.

      * * *

      By half past six Wednesday evening, Lara was ready and waiting. She had dressed just as conservatively as she did at the office, in a black, long-sleeved dress with a high round neckline and straight skirt. But as she took a final glance at herself in the mirror, she noticed the dress was shorter and dressier than anything she’d worn to the office. She told herself it was the perfect compromise for a dinner date with her boss. She couldn’t imagine why he had asked her out.

      When he’d called last night he hadn’t made it sound as if this was social. At the same time, it wasn’t business related or he would have told her. She had accepted his dinner invitation knowing she’d find out the reason soon enough.

      She tried to ignore the flutters in her belly when she thought of dining with her boss. Marc was handsome, charming, capable, a strong, sexy man—something she tried to avoid thinking about most of the time. She had heard all the office talk—how his pregnant wife of three months had died in a plane crash and he still mourned her and had no interest in any other woman.

      She suspected he was smart enough to avoid getting sexually or emotionally involved with anyone at work.

      She was attracted to him and had been from the first moment she met him, but she’d resisted with all her being because at first there was no future in it and later she became engaged. His heart was locked away, and even if it wasn’t, she had plans for her life. Plans that did not call for her to get romantically involved with her boss, no matter how good-looking he was. Still, what was the harm in admitting that the man was handsome and had sex appeal? Bushels of it. In fact, sometimes she found it difficult to keep remote, professional and cool around him. Nevertheless, she did.

      Thinking about him, she sighed. Surely Marc wasn’t taking her out tonight to let her go. He wouldn’t do that. As for his motives, she’d know in a matter of minutes.

      She took one last look in the mirror. Her hair was looped and pinned up on her head, just the way she wore it at work today. Her makeup was light but flawless, optimally highlighting her blue eyes and high cheekbones. As she gazed into the mirror, her mind must have started playing tricks on her, because she suddenly saw Marc’s image beside her. His thick, black, unruly hair, slightly tanned skin, the shadow of stubble on his jaw and his thickly lashed dark brown eyes. He stood next to her, over six feet tall, broad shouldered and strong, and he reached out to touch her and—

      Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car door closing. In seconds her doorbell rang. She took a deep breath and hurried to answer it. She swung it open to face her boss and her heart lurched.

      Dressed in a navy suit and red tie that she had seen before, he looked handsome. She smiled, but felt odd flutters and she assumed it was because it seemed so much like a date. She banished that thought and looked up at him. “Do you want to come in?”

      “Thanks, but we have reservations shortly, and I think we better go.”

      “I’m more than happy to go have dinner with you, Marc, but I’m a little puzzled as to why we’re doing this. I don’t feel as if it’s a social event.”

      He smiled at her. “Smart woman. I have something I want to talk to you about and I want to be away from the office and away from interruptions.”

      “Ahhh,” she said, nodding. While that clarified their dinner engagement slightly, she still had questions. She suspected his “something” concerned work because his office manner hadn’t changed from what it had been all day. “I’ll get my purse,” she said, stepping back into her entryway briefly before joining him.

      She closed her door and heard the lock click into place. As she walked beside him to the car, she was acutely conscious of how close he was and how tall he was. She had far more physical awareness of him now that they were out of the routine office setting, but his demeanor was the same. He didn’t take her arm as they walked to the car. He didn’t touch her in any way. So why couldn’t she stop the prickly awareness that plagued her?

      She told herself to pretend she was in the office, that it was just lunch together on a weekday. That didn’t work.

      He held the car door and she slid into the seat. She watched him walk around the car, the wind blowing unruly locks of his curly hair. What did he have to talk to her about here that he couldn’t discuss at the office?

      Her curiosity mushroomed when they went to a town club where he was a member. Inside, they were taken to a private room.

      “Now I am curious about tonight,” she said as she sat across from him.

      He merely nodded. “Let’s get our drinks and order dinner before we talk. I don’t want any interruptions. But I will tell you this is personal and involves my grandfather.”

      Startled, she couldn’t imagine what could concern her and involve his very ill grandfather. “There’s no guessing why I’m here having dinner with you if it involves Mr. Ruiz. That lets out anything regarding the office.”

      “Not altogether,” Marc said. “I have a proposition I want you to consider.”

      Her curiosity reached a fevered peak but she reined in her questions when the waiter came to ask their drink preferences. Marc ordered sparkling water for her and a martini for himself.

      She sat quietly until finally they had ordered dinner and been served their drinks. He raised his glass in a toast.

      “Here’s to the best secretary I’ve ever worked with and, hopefully, to a mutually bright future together.”

      She touched her glass to his and sipped, watching him and waiting as he set his martini on the table. Her curiosity increased because, whatever he was about to discuss, it involved both of their futures.

      He folded his hands on the table and cleared his throat. “I’ll cut to the chase now. My grandfather is very ill with pancreatic cancer and doctors have given him three months to live.”

      “I’m sorry,” she said, hearing the pain in Marc’s voice even though he seemed in control of his emotions.

      “I’m close to him. My dad died when I was twelve and my grandfather has always been there for me. I’ve spent a lot of time with my grandparents on their ranch. I love that life and I love that ranch. It’s beautiful.” He smiled at her. “At least, it is to me.”

      “I’m sorry, Marc, that your grandfather’s health isn’t good,” she said, still unable to see how any of this involved her.

      “Thanks. My grandparents love that ranch. They’ve worked it all their lives.”

      He paused when the waitstaff came in with their dinners—a thick steak for Marc and Alaskan salmon for her. When they were alone again, she had a bite of salmon and