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“I haven’t seen your bedroom,” he reminded her. “Give me the deluxe tour.”
“Sure,” she replied, trying to sound casual and not think about a bed and Ryan in it.
“Here it is,” she said, and he followed her into her blue bedroom, walking around to look at items on her desk, pictures on the wall and memorabilia on her shelves. He reached out to pick up one of her tennis trophies. “You’re good at tennis. We’ll have to play.”
“Right now I’ve given it up,” she said, and watched his dark eyebrows arch.
“How come?” he asked, replacing the trophy on the shelf.
She realized she couldn’t give him the right answer and tried to think of an excuse. But silence stretched, and she began to panic, searching for something to say.
“Tennis elbow,” she answered at last.
“Too bad. I was looking forward to a match with you. Chess and tennis. There are two things we both enjoy, so we might as well do them together when we can.”
“They’re both competitive.”
“All the better,” he said softly. “I like competing with you.”
“I suspect you’re happy to compete with the world because most of the time, you’re satisfied with the outcome,” she said, and he smiled.
“What do you do for your elbow?” he asked, walking over to her.
“There’s not much I can do,” she replied, avoiding his eyes and wishing she could think of another subject. “Now you’ve seen my room.”
He turned to look at her bed. “I’ll know where to picture you in my mind when I talk to you on the phone.” His voice had lowered a notch, and she wondered if he was remembering their weekend together, too.
“That’s the tour. There’s an extra bedroom. Want something to drink?”
“Sure. I’ll have pop.”
He strolled beside her as they returned to the kitchen, where she got pop for him, ice water for herself and a plate of cookies. “We can go in the living room where it’s more comfortable,” she said. Seconds later, she was sitting on the sofa. He chose one of the chairs, putting distance between them, and she realized he was doing what he’d promised—going slowly.
“Has your family seen this place?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. My dad and brother don’t get into the city often unless there’s a cattle sale or something like that. My grandmother hardly ever leaves our area.”
“How’s your dad feeling?”
“He’s getting along all right from what my brother tells me. Jeff says Dad is still working too hard for a man who’s had a heart attack, but there’s nothing any of us can do about that. The flood last year was another big blow. Health insurance is an endless problem.”
“And you’re still helping out financially?” Ryan asked bluntly, and she nodded.
“Yes, I’m happy to,” she replied.
“I know what you mean,” he said, and she wondered if Ryan even remembered the sacrifices of his early years.
He stretched out his long legs. “I’m sorry your family has problems.”
“We’ll get through them. Dad says we always have.”
“So what weddings are coming up?” Ryan asked, changing the subject. As she talked, she realized he was a good listener.
Finally, he stood and picked up his glass. “I’ll put this in the kitchen and then I better go. It’s late.”
She glanced at her watch and was surprised to see it was nearly one in the morning. “Great heavens! On work nights I go to bed early.”
“Sorry if I kept you up past your bedtime. You should’ve thrown me out.”
“Oh, sure,” she said. “Leave your glass. I’ll put it up.”
He crossed the room to her. “Since I’m taking you to work in the morning, eat breakfast with me tomorrow. That’s harmless.”
“Ryan, nothing is ‘harmless’ with you,” she answered.
“Ah, now that’s great news,” he replied, and she shook her head. “So even breakfast with me is different from breakfast with John Doe or Susie Smith? Sometime I’ll try to discover why, but not yet. Tonight, I’m taking it ever so slowly—don’t you agree?”
“Of course, and you have to hear me say that, too.”
“I just want to make certain I’m doing what you like,” he said with great innocence. He stood inches away, and was bantering her, but she had spent an enjoyable evening with him. They had touched lightly and casually, but each contact was fiery, and longing had steadily built, until now she ached to wrap her arms around him and kiss him. She had no intention of doing so, yet she was certain that before he told her goodbye, that was exactly what he would do. She couldn’t imagine he would walk away without a kiss.
“I’ll pick you up, so let’s have breakfast.”
“All right,” she said, glancing at her watch. “I have to have my sleep. I’ll call and arrange to go in late, so can you come at half-past eight—or does that make you too late?”
“Half-past eight it is.” They walked to the door, and he turned to face her.
“Thanks for the delicious dinner,” she said. “It was a nice evening.”
“I thought it was fantastic. I can’t wait until breakfast. Night, Ashley,” he said.
“Good night, Ryan,” she replied, while her heart raced. To her surprise, he turned and strolled toward his car. She was amazed he hadn’t given her even a light kiss, and she tried to ignore the ripple of disappointment she felt.
She waved to him and went inside, locking up and switching off lights. She was getting more involved with him instead of less, she knew, and wondered how much that was going to complicate her life.
It wasn’t until she showered for work the next morning that she realized she had made a big mistake.
Worrying, she blew her hair dry, her thoughts on Ryan. She had promised to eat breakfast with him, forgetting completely that all too often she suffered morning sickness.
She knew she could never get him to cancel coming to fetch her. She didn’t have a car, since she’d left it at work to go to dinner with him. Mulling over what to do, she dressed in a navy skirt and white blouse, then looped and pinned her hair on her head.
Promptly at half-past eight, Ryan arrived and rang her doorbell. When she opened it, she lost her breath at the sight of him.
Dressed in a charcoal suit and red tie, he looked incredibly handsome. “My, you look great,” she couldn’t resist saying, reminded again that her baby would have the most handsome father possible.
“That’s my line,” he said, his warm gaze traveling slowly over her. He inhaled and his chest expanded. When his eyes met hers again, she drew a long breath, because she could see desire in the depths of green.
“Let me get my purse,” she said, realizing her voice was breathless and wondering if he noticed.
As she returned, he watched her. She felt self-conscious, tingly, but couldn’t resist hoping she enticed him.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said quietly.
“Thanks, even though it’s a bit of an exaggeration. White blouse, navy skirt, ordinary office clothes,” she said, waving her hand toward herself.
“Not to me. And I’m seeing you without them. I still have a memory.”
Her pulse skipped. “Forget it, Ryan,” she said. “You go out and I’ll set my alarm,” she added.
“You’ve already triggered mine,” he drawled, with a sexy innuendo that made her breath catch.
As he drove, she tried to keep the conversation light, maintaining a stream of topics so they wouldn’t get into anything personal.
The sun was bright, the air clear and the sky a deep blue. The beautiful spring day lifted her spirits, and she wondered how much of her bubbling enthusiasm was because of the glorious day and how much was due to the charmer seated beside her.
He took her to an expensive restaurant where she had never eaten. The glassed-in dining area held an abundance of hanging green plants and pots of tropical flowers, all giving an open-air feeling and adding to the springtime ambience.
His eyebrows arched when she ordered only milk and an English muffin.
“I’m not particularly hungry,” she explained, already too aware of smells of coffee and bacon wafting in the air. She wished she had never accepted the invitation to breakfast with him, but she was into it now, and she tried to avoid thinking about food or looking at any that went by, carried by waiters.
When her muffin and milk were placed in front of her, she didn’t really want them.
Worse, Ryan was served a platter holding an omelet and slices of bacon, patties of sausage and fat, golden biscuits. He had steaming coffee and a chilled glass of orange juice.
Her queasy stomach churned, and she excused herself, rushing to the ladies’ room because of nausea. To her relief, it was an elegant restaurant and the ladies’ room had a sofa. Stretching out, she laid folded paper towels soaked in cold water on her forehead, thankful Ryan couldn’t see her.
A few minutes later, a waitress came in and spotted her. She asked if Ashley was okay.
“Yes, thanks,” she replied, smiling. “I just felt faint.” To her relief, the waitress nodded and left.
Ashley stayed until she felt she could join Ryan again. With her stomach still churning, she returned. Coming to his feet as she approached the table, he reached out to take her arm. “Let’s go. I’ve already taken care of the check,” he said, holding her arm.
“You’re having to leave your breakfast behind,” she said, wanting to get to the sanctuary of her office, and barely thinking about what she was saying.
“That’s no problem. Ashley, I’m taking you to my doctor.”
“No, you’re not!” she declared emphatically. “I’m fine.”
When he lapsed into an uncustomary silence, she wondered if she had been too abrupt. She slid into his car and shut her eyes, resting her head against the seat. She straightened when she heard him opening his door, and glanced up to find him studying her intently.
Her heart thudded. “It’s just a minor upset, Ryan. Really it is. Don’t worry, and take me to my office.”
She knew she should force some kind of cheerful banter and get his mind off the incident, but she was wrung out. The motion of the car wasn’t helping, and she was desperate to escape.
At her office, he came around the car to take her arm again. “I’m fine. I promise,” she repeated.
“I’ll go inside with you,” he insisted.
She didn’t feel like arguing, and he would soon be gone. She walked in silence with him and was relieved they didn’t encounter Jenna or Carlotta.
In her office she turned to thank Ryan, while he closed the door and turned to face her, standing only a few feet away with his hands on his hips.
Her heart began to drum, because he wasn’t leaving as she expected him to.
“Now tell me what’s really wrong with you!” he demanded quietly.
Three
Taking her time to answer him, she fiddled with her watch, while his curiosity grew.
He could remember that fabulous weekend with her and the sizable breakfasts they’d had each morning, without any unpleasant upsets on her part. He thought about her easy, slow walk that indicated time wasn’t a ruling factor in her character—something so removed from his driven life that he had been intrigued. Usually smiling, relaxed, taking time to savor life, people and her surroundings, she’d interested him from the first moment he’d met her. Now, as she fidgeted and remained silent, his questions increased.
She had been sick in the restaurant. He’d had a waitress check on her and was told that Ashley said she was fine, but was lying on the sofa with wet towels on her forehead.
He could also recall how she’d had wine with her dinners their first weekend. Now she was drinking ice water. Everything added up to a change.
“Ashley, what is it?” he prompted.
“I’m all right,” she said without looking at him. Circling her desk, she sat and bent down to open a drawer.
Right now, she was deathly pale, and he was afraid she would pass out in front of him. He liked her, wanted to know her better, and the weekend they’d spent together had been the most fabulous, passionate time of his life. He hadn’t been able to forget her or get her out of his thoughts, and he was concerned now.
Grabbing a chair, he circled the desk and sat close beside her. “Tell me the truth, Ashley. You know what’s wrong. You’re a lousy liar.”
She looked at her fingers laced together in her lap. “Leave me be, Ryan. I mean it,” she said forcefully, and raised her head.
Surprised, he was taken aback by the fire in her eyes. Bright spots of color stained her otherwise pale cheeks.
His gaze searched hers. “All right, I’ll leave,” he said. Halfway to the door, he stopped and looked at her. “Can I do anything? Get you something?”
“No, but thank you,” she answered flatly. “Just let me be.”
As he headed out of the room and reached for the knob, he wondered whether she was sick every morning. He’d started to leave when it dawned on him. Morning sickness.
He already had the door open and he closed it. No wine. No tennis. She wanted him out of her life. Morning sickness. He turned to look at her, examining her closely. She looked the same as ever. Her waist was tiny, her stomach flat.
She blinked and glowered at him. “Just get out of here, Ryan.”
“How long has this been happening?”
Color flushed her cheeks again. “Not long. I don’t know. I’m all right.”
He stared at her, thinking it was impossible, but knowing it wasn’t. “You’re pregnant,” he declared.
When she flinched, he knew he was right.
Clenching her fists, she raised her chin. “It doesn’t concern you.”
He was shaken and wondered who she’d been with. “How far along are you?”
“A couple of months,” she replied. “I haven’t told my family or anyone yet, so I would appreciate it if you don’t.”
“Don’t worry,” he snapped. “Who’s the man?”
“I’m not giving out his identity,” she replied stiffly, but there was a flash in her eyes that shook him. He walked closer to her.
“How far along are you?” he asked again. “Tell me the truth, Ashley.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “How many months are you? Dammit, I want to know.”
“Get out. I”m not telling you.”
“You know I can find out some way. I have enough money to get the information I want.”
Suddenly she looked frightened, and gazed wide-eyed at him while shock buffeted him. “How many months?” he said, barely able to get out the words.
“Over three,” she said, glaring at him. “This is my baby and I don’t want any interference. Now, you get out of here.”
Stunned, he stared at her. “There isn’t another man, is there?” he asked.
“Get out, Ryan.”
He knew the answer. He was the father of Ashley’s baby. Shocked, he couldn’t believe it, but he could tell from looking at her that it was true. “We used protection.”
“Get out of my office!” she snapped.
Stunned by the news, he turned and left, going out to the car to sit behind the wheel and try to absorb what he’d learned. He started it up and drove a block, then pulled to the curb, cutting the engine to stare into space. He was the father of Ashley’s baby! She was pregnant from their weekend together. He had difficulty accepting the truth. He’d used condoms, and nothing had failed, that he had known. He was stiff with shock, unaware of the traffic pouring past him, of the spring morning, of joggers running by.
Ashley was going to have a baby. His baby.
Shaking, Ashley walked around her desk and sank into the chair, calling Carlotta on the intercom to tell her that if Ryan Warner appeared, she was not available to see him. Then she closed her eyes.
What a mess she’d made of the morning! And exactly what she’d hoped to avoid had happened. Ryan knew the truth.
He’d been shocked, and obviously didn’t want any part of it—that much was a relief to her, even though at the same time, it angered her. She knew she shouldn’t feel conflicted about his reaction, but she did.
She rubbed her throbbing forehead and longed to undo the morning. Wished she had been wise enough last night to refuse to eat breakfast with him today.
When her intercom buzzed, she groaned. She didn’t feel like dealing with anyone yet. She pushed the button to speak to Carlotta.
“Ryan Warner is on his way to your office. I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop him.”
“That’s all right,” Ashley said, knowing her receptionist couldn’t have kept out a determined male like him.
Before she could answer his knock, he strode into her office, closing the door behind him.
“I don’t want to see you, but I don’t suppose that matters to you,” she said.
“No, it doesn’t. You weren’t going to tell me about my baby.” He flung the accusation at her in a low, steely tone.
“Yes, I was, but not until after the baby is born, because I don’t want your interference.”
“How about my help?”
“I don’t want that, either,” she said.
He crossed the room and sat in the chair he’d placed beside hers earlier, gazing intently at her. “Why the hell not?” he asked. A muscle worked in his jaw.
“You’ll take charge of my life. I want to take care of myself,” she stated in a haughty voice, and raised her chin.
“It seems to me you sure as hell could use some financial help. You should welcome it.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“And it seems to me you should let your family know.”
“I’ll tell them soon. Other than the doctor, you’re the first to hear about it. Look, your immediate reaction was an honest one—you tore out of here in shock and didn’t want any part of this. Don’t try to include yourself now out of a sense of guilt.”
“I left in shock and because you kept asking me to go. I’m not suffering any guilt,” he insisted.
“Oh, please,” she said, giving him a skeptical look. She was annoyed with him, certain he must be steeped in guilt, to return as he had with an offer of help. His tie was awry, his hair tangled on his forehead and he looked as if he had been wrestling with something difficult. She waved her hand. “Go on, Ryan. I’ll keep you posted.”
“No,” he said. “I can easily help out, and this is my baby, too. I can provide a nanny, and you’ll have to have a nursery.”
“See, this is exactly why I didn’t want you involved!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “You’re making my decisions.” She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t feel well. Why don’t you leave me alone this morning and we’ll talk later. I need some peace and quiet.”
Looking frustrated, he stood with clenched fists. “I’ll see you tonight. I’ll bring steaks and come to your place. We need to talk about this.”
“Whether I want to or not,” she said.
“Damn straight! This is a life-changing event and I’m involved in it whether you like it or not. You can’t say no to me when it’s my baby.” He strode out of the office and slammed the door behind him.
She ran to yank open the door. “Then eat before you come. I won’t feel like eating, anyway!”
He turned around and with long steps came back. “You need to eat dinner.”
“I know that,” she replied in exasperation. “I’ll eat before you come. You do the same.”
He nodded. “See you around seven.” He hurried out the front and she returned to her office, closing her door and going to sit behind her desk.
She stared into space and wished she had done far more to get him out of her life and keep him from discovering the truth. Now there was no getting rid of him. Ryan was in her life to stay, probably until their baby was grown. Their baby. It shocked her to think about her baby in that way, because after discovering her pregnancy, she had closed Ryan out of any connection to the baby until this morning.
An hour later she felt better. She spent the day trying to keep from worrying about Ryan. She left work early to get ready to see him. He was coming over at seven, and she suspected the night would be one of continual clashes.
After eating a small dinner of a poached egg and toast, she bathed and dressed with care. In spite of all her worries and anger with him, excitement bubbled in her at the thought of seeing Ryan.
As she dried her hair, her intercom buzzed. A florist wanted to get through the gate to deliver flowers. When she went to the door, a driver climbed out of a panel truck and came up the walk with a crystal vase containing a huge bouquet of daises and yellow tulips. She took the arrangement and carried it inside, where she set it on a table and paused to read the card.
“To the mother of my baby,” was scrawled there. “Can’t wait to see you.” It was signed with Ryan’s bold signature.
She shook her head, reminded that he wasn’t going away. She looked again at the card. The mother of my baby …
She placed the card carefully into the bouquet and carried it into her living area, placing it on the coffee table where he would see it. Then she finished dressing.
She let her long, straight blond hair fall freely over her shoulders. Wearing pale yellow slacks and a yellow-and-white cotton shirt and sandals, she gazed at her reflection, turning to look at her flat stomach.
Promptly at seven she heard his car. With a sigh, she braced herself to deal with him.
When she opened the door, the sight of him worked its unfailing magic. In a navy short-sleeved knit shirt and chinos, Ryan looked refreshed and his usual cheerful self.
“Come in. Would you like something to drink? Beer, water, wine, pop?” she asked as he entered.
“Cold beer would be good,” he said, closing the door. “What are you having?”
“Ice water,” she answered.
“I’ll help,” he said, walking beside her. “I know where things are now.” Like everything else he had been doing since learning about the pregnancy, his actions caused her both chagrin and amusement, because he took charge as if it were his kitchen. As soon as he handed her the glass of water and got his beer, they went into the family room and she motioned toward the flowers. “These are lovely.”
“Not nearly as gorgeous as the recipient,” he responded, setting down his beer and taking her ice water to place it on the coffee table. Her heart thudded when he turned to slide his arms around her waist.
“I went slowly last night. I don’t see much need to continue that.”
Her heartbeat quickened as she rested her hands on his forearms. Desire smoldered in his gaze as he watched her. “I disagree,” she replied. “I still want to take some time. We can get to know each other better.”
“Do you know how badly I want to hold and kiss you?” he asked in a husky voice, and her opposing emotions tangled fiercely. She needed him to ease up and give her space. At the same time, she ached to throw her arms around him and kiss him.
“Just wait,” she said, pushing lightly against his muscled chest. “Give me time here. It’s important to me, Ryan,” she said, in spite of her yearning to reach for him.
As she looked into his eyes, she wondered if he had any idea what he did to her heartbeat. The longer they stood with locked gazes, the more she wanted him, and the more difficult it was to push away and establish some space between them. His arm tightened around her waist, and what she craved became more important than what she should do.
“It’s been a long time, Ashley,” he whispered as his gaze dropped to her lips. He leaned down, covering her mouth with his, and his tongue touched hers. Engulfed by longing, she couldn’t resist him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he drew her closer.
While her heart pounded, he leaned over her, kissing her deeply, his tongue stroking hers and building fires in her. The yearning was intense, insistent; her arguments seemed to go up in flames. She yielded to the moment, aware his kisses had comprised all her fantasies and dreams for months now.
In return she poured out her pent-up hunger, which had grown steadily. As he leaned over her, his hand wound in her locks and she tangled her fingers in his thick hair.
His manhood pressed against her. Clinging tightly to him, she moaned. She ached to be rid of the slightest barriers between them, but knew that couldn’t happen. Not now. Dimly, she realized she needed to regain control and stop, but not yet. She kissed him wildly, wanting him with all her being. He was exciting and desirable, the man of her dreams, the father of her child.