The Boss's Baby Arrangement. Catherine Mann

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      Heat flooded into her cheeks as she remembered the way their bodies had pressed up against each other after the gator run-in.

      “Are you okay? That was quite a spill you took.”

      She shrugged her shoulders, tongue unable to articulate any of her whirring thoughts.

      “What makes a girl—hell, anyone—want to wrestle with alligators?” He inched closer.

      “They don’t bite nearly as hard as the ones in the boardroom,” she volleyed back, thankful to find her voice again. He unnerved her fully.

      “Funny.” A puff of a laugh teased against his teeth, leaving behind a serpentine hiss.

      “And I can outrun them.”

      “Also funny. But seriously, why this career?”

      A loaded question. Freedom. This career awarded her a sense of sky and life the way nothing else could. “Why any career? Why would you want to stay inside all the time?”

      “I enjoy the corporate challenge and I have a head for business. Without that, places like this would close down. It almost did.” A defensive edge filled his tone.

      She flashed a toothy smile, raising an eyebrow as a soap bubble floated in the space between them. “True enough. And without me, places like this wouldn’t exist. I wanted to be a veterinarian. I just had to find my niche.”

      “So someone threw an alligator in your pool and you knew?” His lips parted into an incredulous smile and she found it hard to concentrate. Averting her gaze, she turned back to the double-crested cormorant, the bird made its traditional guttural noise that sounded much like a grunting pig. Funny. Endearing. It helped her re-center, refocus on her work with the greenish-black bird that sported an adorable orange neck.

      “I was actually out on a field trip for school. My work group got separated from the rest and we were lost, wandering around deeper into the moors. The fog rolled in and we couldn’t see what was around our feet. It freaked out the others in the group, but I found that soup of nature...fascinating. I just wanted to reach down in there and run my fingers through the mist. I felt...connected. I knew.” She gestured to the world around her. “This is what I’m supposed to do with my life.”

      “You are...an incredible woman.”

      She felt the blush heat her cheeks. His compliment shouldn’t matter but it did. Her self-esteem had taken some serious dings during her marriage. “Thank you. I’m just a lucky one.”

      “Hard work certainly increases the odds of good luck.”

      “Still, life isn’t always evenhanded.” In fact, she felt like it was often like an out-of-balance scale. All the counterweights were askew. Looking at him now, leaning casually against the workstation, definitely riled her sense of evenhandedness. Being attracted to him was not without complications. Serious work-altering complications. And then, there was the problem of her work visa expiring.

      His face went somber. “True enough.”

      “Oh, God.” She touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

      “It’s okay. Really. I can’t spend the rest of my life having people measure their every word around me. I wouldn’t want that for Rose, either. I want her to grow up in a world of happiness.”

      Searching for some level ground, she offered, “I’m sure she’s being pampered to pieces by her grandparents.”

      His face went even darker.

      “What did I say wrong?” Her stomach knotted.

      “It’s not you. It’s just that my relationship with them has become strained since Terri died. They miss her, I understand that. We’re all hurt.”

      “Everyone could tell how much you loved each other.”

      “We’d known each other all our lives.” His voice was filled with a hollow kind of sadness.

      “So you’ve known her parents as long, too. They should be like parents to you, as well.”

      He barked out a laugh. “If only it was that simple.”

      “I don’t want to pry.”

      He shook his head. “You’re not. They blame me for not taking care of her. I was working late when she died. If I’d been home on time, maybe I would have seen the symptoms, gotten her to the hospital in time...”

      In his tone, she could hear how many times he’d replayed that night in his head. Played the what-if game. She knew how painful the potential of what-if could be.

      “You can’t blame yourself.” Her voice was gentle but firm.

      “I do. They do.” Quieter still, he took a step forward, buried his face in his hands as if to shut out any chance of redemption. But Maureen knew a thing or two about “phoenixing”—the importance of being birthed by fire and ash.

      “Easton told me the doctors said there was nothing that could have been done.”

      She reached a soapy hand for his, certain Xander needed a small show of comfort. Her heart demanded that of her.

      “I wish I could believe that. I wish we all could.”

      “That has to have left a big hole in your life.”

      “It has.”

      “I’m so sorry.” And she was. So damn sorry for how things had played out for him. For the burden of a future he’d glimpsed but could never have. She understood that sort of pain.

      “I have our child. And I can’t change things.”

      “Stoic.”

      He leveled a sardonic look her way. “The problem with that?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Even I know that when a woman says nothing, she means something.” He half grinned, an attempt at light in a shadowed spot. A good sign. A necessary one. And Maureen used that light to ask the question that had burned a hole in her mind all day.

      “I just wonder who...”

      “Who what?”

      “Who helped you through that time?” Immediately she regretted the push for information. Stammering, she continued. “Th-that’s too personal. Forget I said anything.”

      He waved his hand, dismissing her retraction. “Holding my daughter comforted me. There’s no way to make the pain go away. Enough talk about me. What about you? Tell me your life history if you expect mine.”

      “I’m from Ireland.” An evident truth and perhaps a cop-out answer meant to delay going deeper.

      “Great mystery there, lass.” He re-created a thick brogue, sounding like an Irishman in a BBC production. The gesture tugged a smile at the СКАЧАТЬ