Baby for the Tycoon. Emily McKay

her mother had said as Wendy headed for the door.

      Wendy took the grocery store at a mad dash, storming the unfamiliar baby aisle as if it were the target of a shock-and-awe military campaign. She raked into her cart five different varieties of formula and enough diapers to keep Peyton dry until college. Then, back in the car, she retraced her path, bypassing Jonathon’s street and heading for FMJ’s headquarters.

      Stopped at a light—mentally urging it to change more quickly—she took one brief minute to question her motives. Why was she so worried? What was the worst that would happen?

      A few hours alone with her family wouldn’t convince Jonathon to revamp his entire life, write a tell-all and travel the country on the lecture circuit. After a single night of tossing back scotch with her uncle, he wasn’t going to quit FMJ and accept a position at Morgan Oil. Or worse, run for office.

      But none of that logic slowed the pounding of her heart. Nor did it dry out her damp palms.

      She so desperately wanted to believe that Jonathon was different than every other guy she’d ever dated. But what if he wasn’t?

      He had to know how influential her uncle was within the government. One word from Big Hank and that contract they’d been working on could be a done deal. All Jonathon had to do was sell her uncle on the idea.

      And when it came to FMJ’s proprietary technology, no one was a better salesman than Jonathon. If he had the chance to schmooze her uncle, he’d be a fool not to take it. She’d just hoped he wouldn’t have a chance.

      By the time she swiped her security card at the campus gate, she was twitchy with anxiety. Part of her wanted to just drive. Not back to his house, not even back to hers, but just drive. She’d had a friend once who hopped in her car and drove to Cabo San Lucas every time life got messy. It was a twenty-eight-hour drive from Palo Alto. By tomorrow afternoon, Wendy could be sipping tequila on the beach. But none of her problems would go away. And then she’d be drunk or hungover and two thousand miles from them. That hardly seemed like the perfect solution. Twenty-seven years of rational decision-making wouldn’t let her go the Shawshank route.

      She scurried into the front office, dropped her purse on the desk and sank into her chair. The simple familiarity of the actions settled her nerves. How crazy was it that the faint scent of ozone coming off all the computer equipment in the other room could be so calming?

      Maybe her family was right and she was a nut for loving this job so much, but she couldn’t help it. Everything felt right in the world when she sat behind this desk.

      She knew it was an illusion. If she went down to the R&D lab, she’d find Jonathon there with her father and uncle. And she just wasn’t ready to see that yet. Apparently, she’d run across town for nothing.

      Letting out a sigh, she crossed her arms on the desktop and dropped her head into the cradle of her elbows. Then she heard a faint sound coming from the back office that Ford, Matt and Jonathon shared. She stilled instantly, listening. Slowly she stood and crossed to the door, giving it a nudge so it swung inward.

      Jonathon stood behind his desk along the west wall. She was unused to seeing him in casual clothes, and couldn’t help admiring how good he looked in a simple cotton T-shirt and jeans. Though his laptop was out on his desk, it wasn’t open. There was a manila file in his hand.

      “Oh,” she murmured as he looked up. “It’s you.”

      His lips twitched. “Who’d you expect?”

      “I…” She paused, momentarily stumped. Finally, she admitted, “I thought you were downstairs in the R&D lab. With my father and Big Hank.”

      “Nope.” He frowned, obviously puzzling through why she would have thought that. “We ran into Matt. He offered to show them around.”

      “Oh.” Relief flooded her. He wasn’t off schmoozing her family. He hadn’t fallen under their spell.

      “Why’d you come in?” he asked.

      “Oh, well I…” Not wanting to admit she suspected him of underhanded business tactics, she made a vague gesture toward her office. “Same as you. Wanted to catch up on some work.”

      Suddenly, now that her fears about Jonathon had been dispelled, another emotion came rushing into the void left by them: desire. Or maybe it had been there all along, right under the surface, waiting for an excuse to rise to the top, as it always did.

      “Right.” He nodded. “Since I figure we won’t be in tomorrow we might as well—”

      “Why won’t you be in tomorrow?” she asked, without really listening for the answer, because her mind was back in the bedroom, the night before, hearing him confess how much he wanted her. And she was remembering how he’d looked in the light of that ridiculous pink hippo, the bedsheet pulled only to his waist, the muscles of his chest so clearly defined despite the dim lighting.

      “Your family. They’ll still be here then.”

      “So? What does that have to do with your work?”

      “While they’re here, our first priority is convincing them we’re a happy couple. We can’t do that if we’re not together.” “But work—” she protested. “Can wait for a few days.” Work? Wait? Who was this guy?

      Whoever he was, she didn’t like it. Not one bit. She was going to have a hard enough time sleeping in the same bed with him for the next week. She’d been counting on their time at the office to return to normalcy. Now more than ever, she needed him to be the hard, analytical boss she was used to.

      Her mind was still reeling from that little bomb when Jonathon said, “Since we’re both here, why don’t you go grab your computer and we’ll try to get some work done?”

      “The thing is, Jonathon, I—”

      Then she broke off abruptly. Because what could she really say? He was waiting, expectantly. Looking so handsome it made her heart ache. “The thing is, I don’t know if I can do this.”

      “Do what?”

      “Slip so easily between the work me and the me that has to pretend to be your wife. I don’t know why it seems so easy for you, but—”

      “You think this is easy for me?”

      “Well. Yes. You barely seem aware that at this time yesterday you were kissing me. Or that last night we slept in the same bed.” She paused, waiting for him to say something. Though his gaze darkened, he didn’t comment and suddenly she felt ridiculous for saying these things aloud. “Which is fine, I mean, this is my problem. I’ll figure it out. But I think I just need to get out of here for a couple of hours. Get my head on straight.”

      Maybe that trip to Cabo wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

      She turned and had made it most of the way to the door when he grabbed her arm and turned her around. She barely caught her balance when he pulled her roughly against him and kissed her.

       Twelve

      His mouth was hot and firm on hers. It only took a second for her to lose herself in the sensation of being kissed by him. No, not just kissed, devoured. She felt completely swept away by it. By him. By the sensation of his hand gently cupping her jaw. By his arm at her back, pressing her body to his. The feel of his lips as they moved over hers in a hundred delicate kisses.

      “This is not easy,” he pulled back just long enough to say. And then he kissed her again. “It’s never been easy.” Another kiss. “Not once in five years.” And another kiss. “Not once has it been easy.” And another. “To stay away from you.”

      And then his tongue was in her mouth, seducing her with long, slow strokes, stirring heat in her body. Making her all but tremble with need. She felt as though her skin was overheated. Tingly and antsy. As if she was on fire. Her