The Baby Bargain. Wendy Warren

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      Settling into his chair’s mate and wishing she’d had time to sand and paint her porch furniture in the last year, Eden watched LJ sip the herbal tea.

      “It’s…different. What is it?”

      “Mostly fenugreek and blessed thistle, herbs that are good for lactating women. They increase milk supply.”

      He’d removed his sunglasses while she was in the house. The blue eyes she remembered from the meeting regarded her wryly. “And what, pray tell, will they do to me?”

      Eden raised her glass. “Let’s find out, shall we?” She drained half the glass, inviting him to do the same.

      His appreciative laugh drew the glance of a neighbor walking his boxer. Eden waved.

      “So we were going to figure out why I’m here,” he said, making his own chair creak as he leaned back. “I think I know.”

      She waited while he let the suspense build. He was quite the politician, working his audience, watching for the reaction. Her continued silence didn’t seem to bother him in the least.

      “I like you,” he said finally. “Your coworkers like you. I’d go so far as to say they respect your opinion. That says something.”

      “And did you charm one of my respectful coworkers into giving you my address?”

      “Not at all. I charmed one of them into letting me look at the company files.”

      Surprised by his honesty, she let herself relax. “You’re unrepentant.”

      “I’m determined. I’d like to talk to you about my plan for the Children’s Connection campaign.”

      “Isn’t it the same one you showed us in the meeting?” She covered her mouth. “I apologize. I didn’t mean for that to sound rude. I just mean I already saw it, and I…”

      “Don’t like it. Right.”

      When her cheeks reddened, he nodded and set his glass on the table between them. “This is why I want to talk to you again. I like you. I don’t want you to say something you’ll feel awful about. You see, I have a theory. You don’t like my ideas…yet. But you do like me. And right now you’re thinking to yourself, ‘Eden, just give the guy a chance.’” He leaned toward her, smiling. “Am I right or am I right?”

      Chapter Three

      Eden felt a little moustache of nervous perspiration break out above her upper lip. Damn, he was good. And, she had to admit that when he leaned forward like that, his gaze focused as if she were the only person in the world, it was easy to forget he was here for one reason and one reason only: to make his own life easier by persuading her to support him.

      “Actually,” she demurred, shooting him an apologetic look, “I feel bad any time I have to tell a potentially hurtful truth. Why, once, I saw a neighbor’s big old tomcat chasing a sweet little marmalade tabby and it was not the first time, let me tell you. I marched right across the street and knocked on that neighbor’s door and said, ‘Ma’am, your tomcat is behaving like the neighborhood bully. You’d better put a stop to it at once or he won’t have any friends at all.’ I felt awful then, too, but it had to be said.”

      Finished, she sat back, a butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth smile on her face. To his credit, LJ’s eyes sparked in appreciation. He nodded. “Well, it was just a theory.” Speaking more sincerely, he said, “I’m a public relations and marketing expert, Eden. I know what I’m doing. I can put the Children’s Connection back in the community’s good graces. And I can do it quickly. But it’s going to be more difficult if one of the organization’s favorite employees bad-mouths my ideas.”

      Modest, too, she thought wryly. “I don’t doubt you know more about ad campaigns and promotions than I do, Mr. Logan.”

      “LJ.”

      “But I know about prospective parents. I won’t restate all my objections to your approach, except to say again, since you’re here, that I don’t think we can establish credibility by looking as if we don’t understand or are afraid to acknowledge reality. By that, I mean the reality of our troubles at the Connection and the reality of being a parent. Especially a single parent.”

      “I see.” He mulled her words over. When he spoke again, she had to admit he didn’t sound defensive at all. “Putting aside the problems at the Children’s Connection for a moment,” he said, “let’s talk about the second part of your objection. You think my commercial showed disregard for the rigors of parenting by making life seem good, enjoyable. Do you enjoy your life, Eden?”

      “Of course I do. That’s not the point.”

      “How long have you been a single parent?”

      “As long as I’ve been a mother, Mr. Logan.”

      “LJ.”

      “And, I work with mothers-to-be every day. When I say they don’t want to be fed a lot of hearts-and-flowers malarkey, I know what I’m talking about.” Because that sounded harsh, she added, “If you don’t mind my saying so.”

      “Not a bit.” A beat passed. “Did you become a single parent intentionally or did Liam’s father leave?”

      Eden simply stared at her visitor. She might live in the Northwest now, but she’d been born in the South, where that question would surely be considered too personal. “I’m terribly sorry, but that information is not your business, Mr. Logan—”

      “LJ—”

      “Mr. Logan. Because after all, I barely know you.”

      “Hmm. That’s true.” He let a frown crease his handsome face. “On the other hand, you thought you knew me well enough this afternoon to discredit my work.” He tilted his head, thinking, then decided aloud, “Yep. I earned the right to at least one personal question.”

      He managed to engender a perfectly nasty coil of guilt that zinged through her middle.

      She gave him the slit-eyed look that worked great on Liberty’s cat when it looked as if it was going to jump onto the dining table, a place it had no business going. “I don’t like the way you worked that out. This afternoon was not personal. At all. I know the needs of our clients, because I understand their concerns. I was speaking from that vantage point.”

      Uncrossing his considerably long legs, LJ Logan planted his expensively shod feet squarely on her porch and rested his elbows on his knees. “Want to know what my vantage point is? Are you interested in my motivation?”

      His voice remained low and almost melodious, but challenge lit his blue eyes. He was intelligent, energetic. Opinionated. But perhaps not as arrogant as she’d believed earlier. Perhaps. As they locked gazes, she was fairly certain she saw a request in his eyes, rather than a demand.

      “Yes, I’m interested in your motivation.”

      A flicker of surprise yielded to a smile. “I don’t believe in resting on my laurels, Eden. I study the most current research in my field, and it tells СКАЧАТЬ