She's Having My Baby!. Raye Morgan

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      “Why Maggie,” he said, his voice warm with teasing humor. “Are you angling for a raise?”

      Her eyes widened. “No, sir, I…”

      He laughed. “Don’t worry. I put in a great evaluation for you just last week. I’m sure there will be something for you when Personnel gets through with their calculations.”

      “Oh.” She wanted to thank him, but she didn’t want to sound too desperate. Even if she was exactly that. “I’m…well, thank you very much, Mr. Haley.”

      “Don’t thank me.” His smile made her toes curl. “Your work is tops and you know it. I’d rather lose an arm than lose you.”

      That did it. Guilt choked her. How was she going to tell him? He’d been so great to her and here she was, pretty much betraying him with this pregnancy. No matter how she worked it, she was bound to leave him in the lurch for a few months. There was just no way she could avoid it. Was there? She tried to think, but nothing came to mind. Unless she could work out a way to deliver her baby in the conference room and keep it stashed in the closet and never miss a minute of work. But she had a sneaking suspicion that wouldn’t work out. She was going to have to take some time off.

      But luckily Mr. Haley was firmly behind the new day-care center that was being set up, right here in the building. She was planning to get her baby into it as soon as possible. But in the meantime, she was going to be leaving him in the lurch. And she felt downright crummy about it.

      “Aren’t you going out to lunch, Mr. Haley?” she asked pointedly, hoping to jog his memory and speed him out the door.

      He sighed, and, for the first time, she noticed that he was looking preoccupied again, despite his sense of humor. “No,” he said in answer to her question. “I don’t think I’ll go out. I can’t really eat anything.”

      She studied him, concerned. He looked tired. Suddenly she wished with all her heart that she knew what was wrong. If she knew what was troubling him, maybe she could help.

      “You don’t have any children, do you Maggie?”

      Her shocked gaze met his and she flushed. How could she answer that one? “N…no. Not…not really.” Not yet, anyway. Was that lying? Technically, she didn’t think so, but she didn’t like it even so.

      But he didn’t seem to notice her unease. He had a hint of that faraway look again. “I just wonder what it would be like to have a kid,” he said softly. Absently, he picked up one half of her peanut butter sandwich and began to munch on it. “Do you ever wonder?” he asked, looking into her eyes as though he thought an answer might be hiding in there somewhere.

      Maggie’s breath caught in her throat. He was sitting so close and his eyes were so dark…. Suddenly she was very much aware of how the way he was sitting revealed the muscularity of his thighs.

      Thighs! What was she thinking? She shouldn’t be noticing that. Swallowing hard, she tried to keep some perspective.

      “Yes. Yes, of course I wonder,” she murmured, but she hardly knew what she was agreeing to.

      “There’s something almost magical about babies, don’t you think?” he was saying.

      But she was losing her train of thought. Her attention had been captured by the realization that his eyelashes were incredibly long. Why that made her feel light-headed she couldn’t have said. But she stared at them, fascinated, and the room faded around him. He had the most gorgeous eyes she’d ever seen. Weren’t eyes supposed to be windows into the heart? Did he have a beautiful soul to match his wonderful eyes?

      She was swaying toward him and she knew it, almost as though he were drawing her closer magnetically, and somehow she seemed to be powerless to stop herself. Those deep eyes, the tiny hairs curling at his hairline, the tanned skin—masculinity radiated from him like heat. She came ever closer, experiencing his pull, taking in his air of casual acceptance, his handsome face, his straight nose…the peanut butter on his lower lip.

      “Can you pass me a napkin?” he was asking.

      She blinked at him as though he’d just gone off like a camera flash in her eyes, staring at him like a deer in headlights.

      But he didn’t seem to notice. Looking down, he groaned. “My God, I’ve eaten your whole sandwich.”

      Her peanut butter sandwich. She shook herself and reality washed over her like a cold ocean wave. Her heart began to thump in her chest. What was wrong with her? She’d almost made a very big fool of herself. Was it her pregnant condition? She was being irrational. Had he noticed?

      “Your whole sandwich,” he was saying, looking at her as though it were her fault. “Why did you let me do that?”

      Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and fought hard for distance.

      “How was I going to stop you?” she said, managing a tart tone, hoping to wipe away any lingering hints of her recent plunge into near-dementia. “You bolted it down like a starved wolf.”

      “You’re right. But it was tiny. And suddenly I am hungry.” He looked almost embarrassed as he wiped his mouth with her only napkin. Not actually embarrassed, but almost.

      “I’m really sorry.” His lopsided grin was meant to make up for it. “Listen,” he said impulsively. “I know how to fix everything. I’ll take you out to lunch.”

      She gasped. Quick. She had to think of an excuse. “But it’s almost one o’clock. I have to be at my desk by one.”

      He wasn’t buying it. “Hey. Who makes the rules around here?”

      “I don’t know.” She frowned, thinking. She did not want to spend any more time with him if she could help it. That silly little trance she’d gone into might have been a harbinger of things to come if she didn’t watch out. She couldn’t risk it. Besides, she needed time to think up a good way to tell him she was going to be having a baby. It had to be done today. “I guess you do.”

      “Damn right,” he said, sliding off her desk. “Come on. Let’s go.”

      “I…I really can’t,” she said quickly. “I have so much work and…”

      “Nonsense. We’re going to lunch. And that’s an order.”

      “Mr. Haley…”

      “Besides, I owe you. Remember on Secretary’s Day I gave you a rain check?”

      How could she forget? He’d done that every year since she’d come to work for him. He’d never been keen on doing the lunch thing. Why now? Why with her?

      “I’m not a secretary,” she tried feebly.

      “Administrative assistants should get special days too,” he told her cheerfully. “And this is it. I’m finally going to pay up. You’re going to get your lunch.”

      And the next thing she knew, she was stepping into the elevator, heading for lunch with the boss. And looking back longingly at her little office area, seeing it as a haven, a safe harbor. How long before she would get back to that safety?

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