The Boss's Baby Mistake. Raye Morgan

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      “I also have to eat,” she said crisply. This situation wasn’t like it had been when her father died and the debts were piled to the ceiling. Still, she didn’t have a lot in savings. She had been planning to spend this afternoon job hunting, but that window of opportunity was fast closing. “I’m signed up with Top Techs, a temporary employment agency, but they haven’t called me with anything yet. I’m going to have to find something soon, though.”

      “Listen,” he said, turning toward her on the bench. “I can help you. Money is no object. Just—”

      “No!” She stared at him as though he’d suggested something horrible. “Never. I will not take money from you.”

      “Gayle, I’m the baby’s father.”

      She wanted to close her eyes and cover her ears. “How do I know that? I don’t have any proof that anything you’ve said about all this is true. For all I know, you made it up.”

      “You can check with the clinic. They’ll have to let you see the documentation. Your husband’s sample was accidentally destroyed and mine was taken out of turn. You’ll be convinced. I was.”

      He was quiet for a moment, then he turned toward her and gazed into her eyes. “You know something? I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you and your husband. But for me, I have to admit, things have worked out pretty well.”

      “What are you talking about?”

      “You. I think you’re just about what I would have ordered up as a mother for my child, if you had been in the mix when I had to make a choice.”

      She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but he went on anyway. “You’re smart, courageous, compassionate.” His eyes darkened. “And you’re very beautiful.”

      She gasped. “Beautiful?” He hadn’t said it as a casual compliment. He’d said it with conviction, as though he really meant it. Just the way he’d said it made her tremble inside.

      “Yes. Beautiful.” He took a strand of her hair and curled it around his forefinger, and the way he moved as he did so, slowly, provocatively, left her breathless. “Hasn’t anyone ever called you beautiful before?”

      “Never,” she whispered. And it was true.

      “What? Didn’t your husband speak English?”

      She felt she had to defend him. “He…well, he wasn’t very verbal about things like that.” Hank had never been very romantic. He’d loved her. He’d put her on a pedestal. But he hadn’t wanted to touch her very often.

      She knew without having to analyze it that Jack would have been a very different husband. She barely knew him and already she sensed he could be a passionate lover. Her heart was beating a wild dance in her chest. He was too close. She could feel the heat from his body. And his fingers tugging on her hair made her think of things she shouldn’t be thinking.

      “Gayle,” he said softly, “you’re an exceptionally beautiful woman. And what’s more, even though you’re seven months pregnant, you’re sexy as hell.”

      She felt as though she were drowning in his dark eyes. He was going to kiss her. Oh, she hoped so! She held her breath, waiting for his mouth to cover hers. She wanted to feel his lips so badly, she thought she would die without it.

      But luckily that was a delusion, because he didn’t kiss her at all. For just a moment, his gaze devoured hers, and he came ever closer. She waited, heart beating like a drum. But after a few excruciating seconds, he drew back and suddenly was acting as though nothing had happened.

      “Anyway,” he said casually, looking away, “the point is, we’ve got a mutual interest here. We both want you to have a calm, happy pregnancy. We both want our baby to be as healthy as possible. Agreed?”

      Our baby. The words shocked her back to reality. She looked at him, wondering if she’d imagined everything that had happened in the last few moments. He didn’t seem to think a thing of it. A flash of anger spiked through her, but she would die before she’d let him see how disappointed she was. “Yes,” she said faintly. “Now I’ve got to get home….”

      “All right,” he said agreeably. “It is getting late.”

      They rose and he walked with her into the parking structure at the edge of the plaza. She avoided looking at him. She was going to go home and forget she’d ever met him! If only she could…

      “There’s my car,” she said, pointing out her elderly blue compact as they approached it.

      Jack frowned. “Are you sure this thing is safe?” he asked, running his finger over the faded hood.

      “It’s fine,” she told him, unlocking the door. “I’ve had it for years.”

      Shoving his hands into his pockets, he watched her get into the car. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said grumpily. “Cars only have so many miles to give, you know. This one looks like it’s about hit its limit.”

      He was worried about the baby, she knew. She gave him a patient look and started her engine, rolling down her window so that she could say goodbye. He bent down, leaning his hand on her car door.

      “Have you named him?” he asked softly.

      Her hand went protectively to her rounded belly. It felt odd to answer his question. She’d never told anyone other than Hank. “Yes,” she said. “His name is going to be Michael.”

      “Michael,” he said, pronouncing it slowly, rolling the name on his tongue as though to savor it. “I like that.”

      So glad you approve, she wanted to say, spiced with plenty of sarcasm. But she bit back the retort and found herself saying instead, “I call him Mikey right now.”

      Jack grinned, and she frowned, wishing she’d kept that to herself. He rose from his position against the door and she put the car in reverse.

      “Thank you for lunch,” she said formally, backing out of her parking space. “Talk to you soon.”

      “You can bet on it,” he told her, standing with his hands in his pockets and watching her from under dark brows.

      With a wave of her hand, she drove off and left him gazing after her.

      There was still part of the afternoon left, but it was useless trying to get anything done. Gayle couldn’t bend over well enough to work on her gardening. She couldn’t read or listen to music or watch television. Her mind was stuck in overdrive, thinking about nothing but the situation she’d found herself thrust into. And the baby seemed to be running on a treadmill. She’d never known him to be so active.

      In the evening, she thought of calling Chareen Wolf, her one good friend who had children. She’d been talking to Chareen a lot over the last few months. Gayle’d often needed advice and some morale boosting. Chareen’s blunt attitude struck just the right note for her. Yes, she would call Chareen, tell her about what had happened, get her down-to-earth advice. She went to the phone with a feeling of relief, dialing quickly. But no one answered the telephone, and then she remembered that Chareen was out of town on a business trip.

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