Precious Surprises. Andrea Laurence

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      “You’re afraid of running into him.” The remark hit a little too close to home for her taste. Harper always had a way of seeing too much where Emma was concerned. It made her an excellent friend, but left Emma little privacy, even in her own head.

      There was no sense in denying it. “Yes, I’ll admit it. It would be awkward, at best, to run into him. And at worst, a conflict of interest if anyone at Game Town found out. My entire report could be compromised if anyone thought I was personally involved with someone here.”

      “Or it could be the most wonderful thing ever. I thought you wanted to find him. You know, for the sake of the B-A-B-Y.” She mouthed the last part silently.

      Emma didn’t respond. Harper was too wrapped up in her romantic ideas to see the situation objectively and there was no sense in explaining herself any further. She just stepped onto the elevator when the doors opened and sipped her hot tea.

      “You’ve already seen him!” Harper accused.

      She snapped her head to the side to confirm they were alone in the elevator. “What? No, of course not.”

      Harper was unconvinced by her response. “Who is it? Is he cute? What department does he work in?”

      The doors opened to the twenty-fourth floor and Emma waved at her friend to be discreet as they stepped out. “Would you keep it down? I don’t want everyone to know.”

      “Okay, but you’ve gotta tell me. I can keep it a secret.”

      Emma eyed her with dismay. She loved her friend, but honestly... “No, you can’t.”

      Harper frowned and planted a hand defiantly on her hip. “Oh, come on. Why not? I mean, it isn’t like it’s the CEO or something. Bagging Jonah would be quite gossipworthy, but anyone else is just run-of-the-mill office news. I don’t know what the big dea—”

      Emma could feel the color drain from her face and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Harper halted in her tracks, forcing Emma to turn and look back at her. Her friend’s jaw had dropped open, her perpetual stream of words uncharacteristically on hold.

      “Oh my God,” she finally managed.

      “Shh! Harper, really. It doesn’t matter.”

      “The hell it doesn’t!” Her voice dropped to a hushed whisper that was still too loud for Emma’s taste. “Jonah Flynn? Seriously?”

      Emma nodded. “But he doesn’t know who I am or know anything about the baby. And I intend to keep it that way for now. You understand?”

      Harper nodded, her mind visibly blown by her friend’s news. “Jonah Flynn is the hottest man I’ve ever seen in real life. He and my brother are friends, and it took everything I had not to throw myself at him every time he came to the house. I can’t believe you two... How did you not jump into his lap when you realized who he was?”

      “Have we met?”

      Harper frowned. “You’re right. A damn shame, though. What a prize to land. He was totally smitten with you.”

      “He’s a player. I seriously doubt that.”

      “If you believe the gossip, then yes, Jonah Flynn is a notorious womanizer. But that’s not the guy I’ve known over the years. And the guy you were with was willing to tattoo himself after one night together on the off chance it might reunite you someday. A playboy wouldn’t have an inch of skin unmarked if that was what he did with everyone. You were special to him. Special enough for a guy that goes through women like tissues to take serious notice.”

      That was true. Emma hadn’t spied another tattoo on what she’d seen of his body, then or now. But she refused to believe there was any kind of future with him. Even if he was interested in starting something, he wanted the woman she was that night. Not regular old Emma. And she swore she’d never be that woman again. So what was the point? Telling him who she was would just torture them both and ruin the memory of that night.

      And yet she had to. Or did she? Her hand dropped protectively to her belly. If Jonah rejected Emma and their child, it could scar the baby forever knowing its father didn’t want him or her. Would it be better to keep quiet? The idea was unsettling to her, but until she decided, not a word could get out. “You have to keep this a secret, Harper. No one can know. Not Violet, not Lucy, not your brother and especially not Jonah.”

      “Cross my heart.” Harper sighed in disgust and Emma could see it was almost physically painful for her to say the words. “You’d better keep that tat of yours under wraps, though.”

      Emma straightened her collar nervously and started back down the hallway. “I don’t make a habit of displaying my décolletage and have every intention of keeping it hidden. I’m here to do my job and get out.”

      “But what about the baby?” Harper trailed behind her.

      “I don’t know, Harper. What happened between us is over. Never to be repeated. Ancient history. I don’t know that the baby will change that.” Emma reached out and opened the door to her office. Sitting on her desk was a large crystal vase filled to overflowing with white lilies in full bloom. The warm scent of them was nearly overwhelming in the small space, making her happy that she was past her morning sickness. She’d never received a more beautiful bouquet of flowers in her life.

      She stepped inside and plucked the card from the plastic prong. As she flipped open the envelope, she couldn’t decide if she wanted them to be from Jonah or not. His attentions, although flattering, were pointless and even dangerous if he knew who she really was. Yet her impractical, inner girl couldn’t help but wish they were from the handsome businessman.

      “‘To Emma,’” she read, her stomach aflutter with nerves and excitement. “‘Welcome to FlynnSoft. I look forward to getting to know you better.’ It’s signed Jonah.”

      “Ancient history, eh?” Harper said, leaning in to sniff one of the flowers. “Are you so sure about that?”

      * * *

      Jonah came down the hallway from the elevator, coffee in one hand, bagel in the other, and paused outside his office. There was a large and quite stunning crystal vase of white Casablanca lilies sitting on Pam’s desk. He frowned. He’d specifically ordered that type of lily for Emma because he felt they were a reflection of her: elegant, pure and refined. They didn’t make any flowers that were stuffy and aggravating.

      Plus, he thought she’d see right through roses. Lilies were different, exotic. He’d spent enough on them to catch the attention of even the most difficult to please female.

      He would be the first to admit he typically didn’t have to work that hard to woo the ladies. He’d been told that with his good looks and irresistible charm, the panties of every woman within a fifty-yard radius simply flew off. It made for an amusing visual, one he’d like to witness really, but he wasn’t naive. He figured their interest in him probably had more to do with the fact that he was filthy rich rather than charming. Panties were consistently repelled by obscene displays of money.

      But Emma was different. Her iron underwear stayed firmly in place when he was around. And given her stiff, overly polite demeanor and cutting tongue, they were probably chafing.

      That СКАЧАТЬ