Having Her Boss's Baby. Сьюзен Мэллери

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СКАЧАТЬ was pregnant with your brother’s child, the first thing you did was propose. You never asked for a test to prove the baby was Jimmy’s, you didn’t accuse me of trying to trap him or you. I appreciate all that. You’re the kind of man who does the right thing. I respect your principles.”

      He stiffened and she wondered what she’d said that was wrong. Before she could ask what, he said, “We need to discuss the wedding. I think sooner is better than later.”

      As much as she didn’t want to admit it, he was right. It wasn’t as if she were getting any less pregnant by the day.

      “Las Vegas is an option,” he continued. “It’s close and easy. Most of the hotels there will be happy to arrange the wedding. We could fly out on a Saturday morning and be back by midday Sunday.”

      “That’s fast,” she murmured.

      Las Vegas. She had an immediate picture of a tacky chapel and an Elvis impersonator performing the ceremony. A far cry from the large, elegant affair she’d always pictured for herself. She imagined her sisters as her bridesmaids and her father giving her away.

      Dev surprised her by reaching across the table and touching her hand. “You’ll have your dream wedding next time,” he said.

      How had he known what she was thinking? “Las Vegas is fine. It makes the most sense.”

      His dark gaze settled on her face. “I thought we’d wait until we’d been married a few weeks before telling your family about the baby.”

      She nodded slowly, liking the warmth of his fingers on hers. “That’s for the best. The wedding will be enough for them to take in at first.”

      She didn’t want to think about how everyone would react. Her mother would be hurt to be excluded from such an important event and her father…her father would want to be sure she really loved Dev.

      She didn’t know how she was going to get around that question, so she would have to do her best to avoid it.

      So much to think about, she thought as their salads arrived. So much change so quickly.

      “I thought it would be less complicated to tell your parents after the fact about the wedding,” he said. “When we get back, we can drive over and tell them it’s done. Then you’ll move into the house.”

      Noelle put down her fork and stared at him. Of course she’d known that getting married meant living in the same house, but she hadn’t thought through the reality of moving into Dev’s home or moving out of her own.

      “There are two guestrooms joined by a bathroom,” he continued. “That should work for you and the baby. I have a cleaning service that comes in once a week.”

      She knew people hired them, but she didn’t know anyone who did. “I can clean the house,” she told him.

      He smiled. “You don’t have to. The house is big, plus there’s the pool house. Besides, you’ll be busy with college and the baby. Your education is important, Noelle. I know getting pregnant screwed up your plan, but I want to make sure when we get divorced, you’re well on your way to achieving all you want.”

      “I find it hard to talk about getting married and divorced in the same conversation,” she admitted. “I saw a couple of my friends yesterday and I’m going to ask you the same question they asked me. Are you crazy?”

      “Not that I’m aware of, although I’ve heard the psychiatric patient is always the last to know. What are you worried about?”

      She liked that he didn’t dismiss her concerns or try to convince her everything was fine.

      “Nothing specific, just this isn’t anything I ever thought I’d do. I don’t know how I feel anymore. The baby isn’t real to me. I haven’t had any symptoms. Just what that stick told me.”

      “Do you think the stick is wrong?”

      She shook her head. “No, I’m guessing it’s right. We’re talking about getting married and I don’t even know how old you are.”

      “Thirty.”

      Okay. One question down, four thousand left. “What do you expect from me when we’re married? You have a cleaning service. Do I greet you at the door and ask you about your day? Have dinner ready? Is our marriage going to be more Brady Bunch or Married with Children?”

      “How about The Simpsons? I think you’d look great with blue hair.”

      She eyed him. The humor surprised her, but in a good way. “You don’t look anything like Homer.”

      “I could try.”

      “Please don’t.” Dev was handsome and elegant, in a James Bond sort of way.

      “Noelle, we’ll make this relationship what we want it to be. I’d like us to be friends first. That’s going to take some time. If you want to cook, I won’t say no. I’m tired of take-out and frozen dinners. If you aren’t interested, that’s fine, too. I don’t have any rules.”

      “But I like rules,” she told him. “I like things neatly defined.”

      “An unexpected pregnancy has a way of changing the rules.”

      She knew he was right. “What about decorating or entertaining?”

      “You can change anything in the house except my study. I have the name of the designer I used. You can call her or pick someone else, or do it yourself. As for entertaining…” He hesitated. “Let’s get used to being married, first.”

      “Okay.” She drew in a deep breath and tried to relax. “You know, you can change your mind about marrying me.”

      He shook his head. “I’m committed to this, Noelle. Are you?”

      Sometimes she felt she was doing the right thing and others she felt she was flirting with disaster. But she’d made up her mind and given her word and she was going to keep it.

      “This is what I want,” she said.

      “Then Marge and Homer Simpson it is.”

      * * *

      Noelle checked the purchase order against the packing slip, then compared both with the bill from the supplier. Part of her job included random audits on all the departments. The computer would generate a list of purchases or sales every month and she would walk through the entire process to make sure everything was the way it was supposed to be. She then wrote up a report for Katherine, her boss, who passed it along to Dev.

      In the past, she’d never much thought about him reading her findings or critiquing them. All her feedback came through Katherine. But now all that was different—at least on her end. Did Dev notice the e-mails that came from her? Did he think of her differently now?

      Not that she would ask, she thought humorously. There were already enough awkward conversations without her throwing one more into the mix.

      Katherine, a tall blonde in her late fifties, paused by Noelle’s desk. “If you have a minute, could I see you in my office?”

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