Two fun, sexy stories in one volume for the first time! What happens when one really wild night has unexpected consequences?

Waking Up Pregnant by Mira Lyn Kelly

Darcy Penn is the sensible type—flirting with the cute guy in the bar isn’t her usual style. As for ending up in his hotel room? Definitely not! Sneaking out to avoid the post-sex awkwardness? Much more like it… Only their night together results in more than just a walk of shame….

The Best Mistake of Her Life by Aimee Carson

Kate’s high school reunion is looming. She can’t miss it, but no way is she going solo! She turns to hotshot stuntman Memphis James for help, even if he’s a living reminder of her biggest secret. Except Kate’s not sure what to do with the still sizzling chemistry—run in the opposite direction, or fall into the wildest fling of her life!

THAT WILD NIGHT

A two-in-one volume of fun, sexy romance!

Kate and Darcy are normally very good girls…. Only just once, they’re led a little astray…by two rather irresistible men! And for these two women, one way or another, a single wild night is enough to change the whole course of their lives….

Enjoy the ride!

That Wild Night

Waking Up Pregnant
Mira Lyn Kelly
The Best Mistake of Her Life
Aimee Carson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

WAKING UP PREGNANT

Mira Lyn Kelly

THE BEST MISTAKE OF HER LIFE

Aimee Carson

Waking Up Pregnant

To Eleanor, Joyce, Jessica, Elizabeth,

and kicking off the fourth generation…Jacqueline.

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

CHAPTER ONE

WITHIN THE FAST closing walls of his downtown L.A. executive office—a modern, stylized space reflective of his personal tastes, professional achievements and global priorities—Jeff Norton watched the limitless sky of his future crack and crumble as the woman in front of him doubled over, one arm clutching his trash can, while the other shot straight. Her hand alternating between a traffic cop’s stop signal and a single finger indicating it was going to be a minute before she got to him.

“Not a problem, Darcy,” he managed in a voice barely recognizable even to himself. “Really. Take all the time you need.”

The sounds of distress emanating from the depths of his violated wastebasket ceased and the Vegas cocktail waitress he’d found too tempting to resist three months ago pinned him with a watery stare before rolling her you-did-this-to-me eyes in disgust.

Which was almost enough to pull a laugh from him, except, yeah, that look said it all. This was the end of days.

Probably.

Because while it wasn’t any great mystery as to why this woman was seeking him out now, months after those fateful few hours they’d spent together that ended with him staring down in abject horror at what could best be described as an epic latex fail, whether the hormone-wreaking miracle behind this reunion was, in fact, his, or whether his portfolio simply made him the most obvious solution to a problem which might be laid at the feet of any number of other candidates, was still yet to be seen.

Though even as he thought it, something inside him rebelled at the idea.

Three months.

If she’d been here after one… Hell, if she’d still been there that first night when he came back from the bathroom…

He swallowed. Sucked a deep breath, only to realize what a monumental mistake he’d made when the smell permeating his office—his sanctuary, his power position, his godforsaken happy-place-no-more—had his stomach contracting in some kind of sympathetic reflex.

Darcy looked over the plastic liner at him and, seeming to catch the wayward direction of his stomach, tightened her hold in a move very obviously saying, Get your own can, buddy.

Nice.

His molars ground together. This was the mother of his child.

Maybe.

Crossing to his desk, he dialed his assistant’s extension. “Charlie, I need a bottle of mouthwash, a toothbrush and paste and a dozen trash liners. And if you can get it all in here in the next five minutes I’ll cut you a check for a thousand dollars today.”

Darcy pinched her eyes shut a moment and when she looked back at him, it was with reluctant gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Suppose it’s the least I can do….” Considering what he’d maybe, probably done already.

He watched the rise and fall of her shoulders as she struggled for her composure.

“I’m sorry—”

He waved her off, but her eyes narrowed so he let her go on. “About springing…this on you. It must… be a shock.”

More so now than it would have been two months ago. “We can talk about it after you’ve had a minute to yourself. There’s a private bathroom back this way. Charlie’s freakishly efficient—”

As if underscoring his point, a knock sounded as the office door swung open for the fastest man in the West, who’d somehow managed to collect a tray of the requested items along with an unopened sleeve of saltine crackers in a matter of seconds. Considering Charlie normally coordinated international business meetings, spoke seven languages and had an MBA from the top school in the U.S., the toiletry run wasn’t perhaps the best use of his time. But for Jeff, the guy had just come through in what ranked up there with a life-and-death emergency.

“Charlie Litsky, this is Darcy—” And there it was, the glaring reminder he didn’t even know her last name. Right. Moving on. “Darcy, Charlie,” he said, leading them back to the private bathroom in the far corner of the office.

“Why don’t I take this?” he said, relieving a sallow-cheeked Darcy of the trash can at the door. “Before you leave today, I’ll give you Charlie’s contact information. If you need to get ahold of me, or anything else, he’ll be able to help you.”

But then Charlie produced a card of his own, already inked in with a private mobile number. The man was worth his weight in gold. Proven even more so, when they excused themselves to leave Darcy at the bathroom and Charlie eyed the trash Jeff was holding at arm’s length.

“Can I take that for you?”

Jeff blew out a humorless laugh. More than anything he wanted to say yes. But whatever the actual protocol for vomit in the office was, Jeff couldn’t stick this with someone else.

Holding out a hand for the liners instead, he shook his head. “This is my mess. Think I’d better be the one to clean it up.”

* * *

Darcy Penn glared into the mirror in front of her, scrubbing the foul taste off her teeth and tongue with a vigor fueled by humiliation and outrage. One that wasn’t going to get her anything but gums that wouldn’t grow back if she didn’t ease up a little.

The nerve.

He’d referred to her as “his mess.” And offered his assistant’s number in case she needed to get ahold of him.

What an ass.

And to think she’d been afraid of seeing him again. Worried she’d find herself susceptible to the same judgment-obliterating spell she’d fallen under that last night in Vegas when she’d found this guy so unbelievably compelling, she’d essentially broken every rule she had, just for a few hours with him. Anxious the man whose easy charm and demanding kisses infiltrated her dreams with nightmarish frequency would be as irresistible as she remembered him. And once again, he’d tempt her toward the kind of destructive fantasies she’d made it her life’s mission to avoid.

Nope. Whatever freaky mojo he’d been working back in Vegas wasn’t in play today.

Not even a little.

Well fine, maybe a little.

There’d been an instant when Jeff opened his office door and she’d seen something hot in his eyes—but that was before she’d lunged past him making a practiced grab for the nearest garbage. Before the horror replaced the heat. And all the walls she’d suspected were there from the start slammed into place.

Now not even a little.

Which was good. Because her plate was more than full enough with this serving-for-two fate had dished her without having to worry about some weird chemistry snaking through the air between them. It distracted her with a momentary feel-good buzz she was too much of a realist to think might actually last, when she needed to focus on working out the details that would impact not just the rest of her life, but her child’s, as well.

Their child’s.

Her frenetic brushing slowed and she spit the paste.

God, what was he going to want? The mess cleaning reference didn’t exactly suggest an instant, joyfully embraced, paternal connection. And how she felt about that…she didn’t know.

On the one hand, her child would be lucky to have the kind of emotional security afforded by two parents who wanted it. But on the other, did either she or her baby really need to be tied to some overgrown kid who, by all appearances, didn’t know the meaning of the word no? The man had made a desk of some repurposed airplane wing and a conference table from a disassembled jukebox topped in glass, for crying out loud. Essentially turning his workspace into a playground filled with the toys of a boy’s heart.

And, yes, that boyish, world-on-a-string mentality packaged within a rugged all-man’s body may have held some appeal when she first encountered it in Vegas. He’d known how to laugh. How to grab life with both hands and live in the moment without overanalyzing every move he made, without weighing every decision. And for a few incredible hours he’d shown her how to do the same.

But now, as that same mentality applied to the father of her child and with her body as exhibit A as one of the consequences to that just for fun mindset?

She let out a slow breath. Reached for the mouthwash, went for a bracing swish and spit.

Not so much.

Darcy placed a hand over her still flat belly, her emotions caught in a tug-of-war between awe over the precious life within her and resentment directed at herself. Disappointment. Frustration.

She’d known better. She’d spent years saying no to every temptation, because she’d had no one to count on but herself. No net to fall back in. No desire to allow herself to be trapped the way her mother had been.

She’d always been so relentlessly careful.

So how was it, this time, this one night, this guy… she’d said yes?

CHAPTER TWO

Three months earlier…

* * *

AND HERE HE’D thought he might be bored.

Within the swank Vegas lounge, Jeff Norton folded his arms over the tabletop, leaning forward in what had turned out to be a ringside seat for the crash-and-burn All-Stars playing out before him as a table of guys tried to score on the leggy blonde who’d just served him his Scotch.

He couldn’t believe the one kid was throwing her a line after the world-class freeze she’d laid on the last chump. And his friends were encouraging him. Forget that on the hot scale, this woman ranked so far out of the kid’s league, they weren’t even on the same planet, let alone page. But hadn’t they seen her eyes? The flat, wholly uninviting, all-business expression leaving zero wiggle room for misinterpretation: not interested. Period.

Probably not. These guys had a just legal look about them, which, coupled with their collection of empties lined up like trophies on the table, and the frequent “Vegas, baby!” fist pumps suggested they hadn’t made it past the admittedly dynamite body before their brains blew out.

Live and learn, boys.

Thirty seconds later, the kid was taking a round of conciliatory back slaps from his cohorts and Jeff was back to waiting for Connor. His best friend fresh off a broken engagement and the reason behind this “guys’ weekend” in Sin City.

Where the hell was he anyway?

Checking his texts, Jeff cursed seeing it was going to be at least another hour.

Screw it. He wasn’t interested in watching guys, age twenty-one to ninety-three line up to strike out while Connor wrapped up his call with Hong Kong. Flagging another server, he handed her his still full drink then pulled out a few bills for the table.

He was halfway to the door when feminine laughter, rich and warm, spilled down the hall beside the bar. The full-bodied sound of it snared his senses and had him cranking his head around to catch a glimpse of the source.

He stopped dead, his eyes locking on the silky blond ponytail streaming over one shoulder. The legs. The hourglass curves, and finally the softest, warmest, twinkling gray eyes he’d ever seen, crinkled at the edges as his cocktail waitress peered up at the ceiling laughing at whatever it was the shorter, redheaded server adjusting her shoe had said.

Gone was that untouchable, unattainable, disinterested, cold set of attractive features. And in their place was this woman.

No way.

And no wonder she’d kept that laugh under wraps. She could barely make it across the lounge as it was without some bozo putting a move on her. If anyone saw her like this…

Well, hell, their thinking would probably follow the same as his.

How do I get her to laugh like that for me?

They’d never leave her alone.

The redhead sauntered deeper down the hall and the leggy blonde with the killer laugh straightened her apron and turned—pulling up short at the sight of Jeff standing there.

The warmth and light from her eyes blinked off as she schooled her features back into a mask of utter disinterest. The one that probably would have been easier to take if it were utter contempt because at least then a guy would know he’d made her radar. Damn, she was good.

Yeah, Jeff wasn’t going anywhere.

“Another Scotch when you get a minute,” he said, flashing her a grin before starting back to his table.

It wasn’t like he’d come to Vegas with some plan to score. He hadn’t. Only now the part of him that couldn’t resist a challenge, the part that got off on getting what no one else could have—the fastest time, the highest grade, the biggest trophy, the most successful company—that part wanted to stake a claim on the secret prize so effectively hidden away, he wouldn’t have believed in its existence if he hadn’t heard the seductive, tantalizing sound of it himself.

And as it happened, he had an hour to kill.

* * *

Whatever the deal was with the guy from table twelve, Darcy didn’t have time for it.

To think she’d pegged him as harmless.

Not in general, no. He definitely had the whole devastating male magnetism thing happening with those roughed up looks and his buttoned-down suit. Every set of female eyes in the place and probably half the men had homed in on him the second he entered the bar. But he hadn’t been on the make—and she’d clocked enough hours in this lounge over the past two years to be able to tell. So she hadn’t paid him much mind. At least not until she turned around to find him watching her with some half-cocked gotcha grin, looking like he’d busted her with her hand in the cookie jar.

Because he’d caught her laughing.

Something she didn’t let happen very often at work as it tended to give the male clientele the wrong idea about what kind of good time she might be interested in having.

But then, tonight of all nights, what did it really matter?

Leaning a hip against the bar, she waited for Mr. Not-So-Harmless-After-All at table twelve’s fresh Scotch.

This was her last night on the job. Her last—she checked her watch and felt a surge of excitement—two hours. And then she was through.

Sheryl Crow echoed through her mind, singing about leaving Las Vegas, and it was all Darcy could do not to put a little swing in her step as she pushed off the bar. Two more hours of tables to turn, drinks to serve, tips to make. And then she’d move on to life’s next adventure.

Though even as she thought it, the word seemed an off fit to the relentlessly conservative way she managed her life.

Adventure implied risks and unknowns. Challenges. Excitement. That wasn’t exactly how Darcy rolled. She couldn’t afford to. Not after the steep price she’d paid to ensure her independence. She knew the suffocating experience of being at the wrong man’s mercy and she’d been willing to sacrifice her education to facilitate that escape. Drop out of high school and get the job that set her free.

She’d sworn never to allow herself to be in a position of dependence again, which meant she took care of herself. She played it safe. Stayed in control. Lived within her means. And if the cost inherent to a life that felt safe was adventure of the tall, watered-down variety? She’d gladly pay it.

Stopping at table twelve, she leveled him with a flat stare. “Your Scotch, sir. Anything else?”

His speculative look had her wondering what this guy’s game was exactly.

And then his focus lowered to her mouth, causing an unfamiliar dip and roll deep in her belly. One she met with a stern frown because oh, no, she was not going to be tempted by this guy. No way.

* * *

“Relax, Darcy. I get it. Not interested. Couldn’t be more clear if you were wearing it on a T-shirt like the table of bridesmaids over there.”

Her gaze shifted to the three women and the corner and her mouth twitched, making something in his gut fire up. Though just as quickly she had the impulse tamped down.

“I’m not hitting on you,” he assured. “This is about filling some hang time. You’re my temporary hobby.”

A slender brow pushed up. “How’s that.”

“I like the smile I saw. And I want one of my own.”

That smooth hip of hers rocked out to one side. “You want a smile? I’ll save you the hassle.” She flashed him a grin barely a step above the flat business she doled out to every Tom, Dick and Harry who rolled through her section and Jeff shook his head, giving in to his own more sincere version.

“Nice try. But you’re not going to put me off with some cheap imitation. I’ve seen the real thing, and now I want one for myself. An honest to goodness, hard-earned, full tilt smile. Bonus for the laugh. And no pity grins, either.”

She opened her mouth to say something—probably another dismissive shutdown, but then pulled her mouth to the side as she studied him.

“So you want to work for it?” she asked.

And hot damn, was she actually going along? “I’m not into easy.”

Her eyes were definitely on his now. Engaged in a way almost as satisfying as her elusive smile had been.

“Look—”

“Jeff,” he supplied, without trying to take her hand because touching her would probably get him slammed up against an impenetrable wall of “no” faster than he could blink.

“Look, Jeff, you’re interesting. Which is a nice change from the norm. But I’m working so I can’t really hang out and be your hobby or anything else.”

“Not a problem. I know you’ve got to work. So on average, how much time do you think you allot each customer outside of taking their actual drink order? I mean for the niceties: Hello, how’s your day? Good, yours? Good, know what you want? Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…”

“Fifteen seconds.”

Nice try. “I’m talking the chatty ones.”

“Forty-five.”

“And if they’re ordering, you’ll give them the time?”

As if sensing a trap, she answered hesitantly, “Yes.”

“Great. I’d like to send an order of white chocolate martinis to the bridesmaids over there. But tell them it’s from the manager or something, not me.”

When she just stared at him, he stared back. “I think our forty-five seconds are up. I mean, unless you’d like to sit down. You’re welcome to stay for a drink. Take a break.”

“This is because you’re bored?” she asked, those steely gray eyes narrowing on him in a way that said he had her focus completely.

Had he really said he wasn’t into easy? Because this was shaping up to be just that…and there wasn’t a single molecule in his body or thought in his head, not totally into where it was going.

Jeff shrugged, raising his Scotch before taking a swallow. “I like to keep busy.”

CHAPTER THREE

“CONSIDER IT A public service.”

Darcy set the Scotch on a fresh napkin and, fighting her threatening smile with everything she had, slid it in front of Jeff. The guy who was making her last night in Vegas one she’d never forget. “Letting you take me out? Okay, let’s hear it.”

“Are you really going to make me say it?” he asked with a look all but begging her to make him do so.

She should walk away. She didn’t date the customers and never gave into even this much interaction. But there was something about him. Something that wouldn’t let her put him off the way she did with every other guy who crossed her path.

Even now, she could feel the corner of her mouth nearly betraying her as it threatened a smile. And Jeff knew it. He was watching, one brow raised. And then his eyes were locked back with hers. “Almost had you.”

Yeah, it had been close.

“Okay, I give. How is my going out with you a public service?”

Satisfaction lit his smile.

“Because of my ego.”

When she crossed her arms, he went on. “You’ve seen it. It’s absurd. Honestly, the size is almost a handicap.”

This was going to be good. Her brow pushed up, wanting more, but unwilling to open her mouth to ask for fear she’d break down laughing.

“If you crush this beast— Darcy, I’m not going to be able to drag it out of here.”

“That big?”

“Like you really need to ask.”

This guy was trouble. And exactly the kind of fun she deserved on her last night in Vegas. So long as it didn’t go any further than a little flirtatious back-and-forth.

“I’m telling you, it’ll be flailing around on the floor. Going boneless when I try to pick it up.”

“Wow, almost like another person.”

He offered a nod. “I call it Connor.”

“An ego named Connor.” Now she’d heard everything…and somehow it only made her want to hear more.

He let out a short laugh and rubbed a hand over his mouth as if trying to push the smile off his lips before going on. “And here’s the problem. That ego’s going to need some serious stroking to recover from your rejection.”

Her eyes started to narrow, but he waved her off.

“It’ll demand I hit on every female to cross my path. Forcing me to turn on the charm, we’re talking full blast—”

“Like a fire hose?” she supplied, knowing she shouldn’t have said it, but—well, she kind of couldn’t help it.

Jeff’s mouth was open, halfway to the next ridiculous part of his pitch when he froze. Cranked his eyes over to hers, the look in them one of amusement and warning.

“Exactly like a fire hose.”

But for the way this guy was working her, there was something about him that seemed safe. Whatever it was, it was tempting her to push what she knew better than to play with. “So after you spray all these women down with your big hose. What happens then?”

“Widespread devastation. Women weeping everywhere. Broken hearts littering the streets. They’re all going to fall in love with me, but all I’m really looking for is a date. Nothing serious. Just some fun.”

Ahh, the circle back to her and suddenly eye contact seemed more than she could handle. “And this is what happens every time a woman turns you down?”

Jeff shrugged, reaching for his Scotch. “Wouldn’t know. It hasn’t happened yet. Seriously, what kind of decent woman would want that kind of emotional carnage on her conscience?”

Darcy looked this guy up and down, taking in the details she’d glossed over before. The overly thick shock of dark hair with a mess of unruly cowlicks at total odds with the serious, straight cut of his classic suit.

But if the hair and suit were a working contradiction, they were nothing compared to his face. The heavy, squared-off jaw and single flashing dimple. The rough look of a nose that had seen a break or two and the ridiculously long fringe of dark lashes over eyes a soft, earthy hazel. On looks alone, this was a man who could keep a girl guessing. Add his confidence and charm to the mix and she imagined most women wouldn’t mind playing Jeff’s guessing game for as long as it was on offer.

Yeah, he was definitely more dangerous than she’d given him credit for.

Time to clear things up.

“Look, Jeff. I’m flattered, but I don’t date customers. Ever.”

“I noticed when I came in. I like it.”

Mmm, and this she was definitely familiar with. “Because it makes me a challenge?”

“Yeah,” he answered with an unrepentant grin and glint of mischief in his eyes.

And okay. Not so familiar after all. “Wow, and honest, too.”

“It’s the best policy. Eliminates the potential for all kinds of trouble. Ensures everyone is on the same page. But back to the issue at hand…I’m a fun date. You’d have a good time. There’s got to be somewhere in town you’ve always wanted to go but haven’t gotten around to. Tell me what it is and I’ll take you tonight.”

Darcy was about to shut him down, but as she stood there looking at that half-playful, too tempting smile all she could think was how many things she’d told herself she’d get to sometime, but never managed to do. And how long it had been since she’d really had fun.

Now her time was up. She was leaving tomorrow.

Jeff was offering her a chance to— God, was she seriously considering this?

She never said yes. Never gave in and did the fun thing for fun’s sake. Maybe tonight, after living the straight and narrow for so very long, she could afford to break the rules without worrying about tomorrow.

“I’ll think about it.”

* * *

A few minutes later, Jeff was exchanging back claps with Connor Reed, whose call had been the typical success his buddy made of everything he set his mind to—the only glaring exception being a broken engagement from two weeks prior. One Connor wouldn’t acknowledge any kind of emotional reaction to whatsoever. Hence, the bromance intervention in progress.

Because Jeff had been there. He knew what it was to be blindsided with the realization that the perfect romance you were about to bet your future on—not so perfect after all.

“No, I don’t love him, Jeff. It’s not about him. Or you. It’s about me feeling trapped and doing something desperate to escape. I’m sorry.”

Yeah, it sucked.

So, they’d done the gambling bit the night before, hit a few clubs and bonded in the manly way guys were most comfortable bonding. Thereby ensuring the whole guys’ weekend spiel Jeff had lured Connor in with, wasn’t a total snow job. But the grunts and knuckle bump portion of the weekend was at a close, and their friendship being what it was, Jeff made no bones about it.

Pushing the Scotch he’d ordered in front of Connor, he jut his chin at the drink. “You might want to get a head start on that.”

Connor shot him the half smile he’d never quite figured out how to make whole. “Little old for drinking games, aren’t we?”

“Time to put your big girl panties on, man. I brought you here to talk feelings. Deep emotional feelings. And because you know I’m your best friend and always right, you’re going to sit there and take it like the man I know you can be.”

The half smile was gone. “Jeff, I told you—”

“Don’t bother. This is going to happen. But because I respect your stunted emotional intimacy boundaries, once I’ve said my piece we’ll have a few minutes of smack talk, just to get back on comfortable ground and then I’m going to give you your space and take off. Most likely taking the blonde bombshell who happens to be our server with me. Deal?”

Connor picked up the glass in front of him and took a fortifying slug. Then cocking his jaw to the side, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “Okay. Let’s have it. But make it fast.”

Jeff caught Darcy watching him from over by the bar, a little furrow marring the otherwise flawless skin of her brow. He cast her a quick wink and then folded his arms over the table returning his attention to Connor.

“Your wish, my command. So, let me set the tone… I love you, man….”

A few dozen old adages, choice idioms, apt metaphors and select bits of fortune-cookie wisdom later, Jeff’s work was done. There were things he’d needed the guy to hear, and things he needed to hear back. As it turned out, Connor hadn’t been so bad off after all.

At least not in the way he’d imagined.

Emotionally stunted, however, didn’t quite cover it as far as the intimacy issues went. But that was a can of worms for another trip. Connor had given him his walking papers a few minutes ago and now Jeff leaned back against the bar, watching as Darcy worried her bottom lip.

No, she wasn’t the unreachable, cold woman he thought at all.

“What about your friend? He looked really upset while you guys were talking.”

Uncomfortable, yes. Upset, probably not. “Turns out the broken heart may have been more a case of dinged ego.”

“You men and your egos. Does he name his, too?”

Jeff waved her in closer. “Guys don’t tell other guys what they name their egos.”

This time when he saw the little twitch at the corner of her mouth, he acted without thought and brought his thumb up to brush the vulnerable spot threatening to give him exactly what he’d been working for.

At the bare touch, her lips parted on a small gasp and their eyes met. Then quietly but firmly she said, “I won’t go back to your room with you.”

Jeff brushed that little corner of her mouth again and then withdrew his hand, parking it firmly in his pocket. “So when are we leaving?”

She searched his face as if looking for a reason to say no, and for one crushing instant when she ducked her head and glanced away, he thought he’d lost her. But she was just untying her apron. And when she looked back at him, it was with eyes that were confident, clear and determined. Excited. “As soon as I get out of this uniform.”

* * *

“Does this count as sweeping you off your feet?” Jeff shouted, the laugh lines branching from his eyes, deeply creased, and the grin promising pure mayhem, gone full tilt.

“I’m totally carried away!” she gasped around the elated laughter she’d given herself over to.

The night breeze whipped at Darcy’s hair as she careened down to Freemont Street, gripping the security harness tight as she went and wondering if this rush of unadulterated exhilaration had more to do with the zip line or the man a few feet away.

Still decked out in his suit and rocking a very double-oh-seven vibe with the harness and wind and all, Jeff cocked his head in her direction. “Your turn to pick next, beautiful. I’m looking for some more local flavor. It better be good.”

They’d been going back and forth for hours already, starting with a light dinner at one of the city’s most coveted hot spots, where a twenty-second phone call from Jeff five minutes prior to their arrival scored them an immediate table complete with the VIP treatment and a breathtaking view. The restaurant had been her choice. One she’d only suggested because Jeff’s cocky grin and wild assertion he could get them into any place she wanted to go had been a challenge she couldn’t resist.

Turned out, there was more to the guy than talk.

Dinner, despite the upscale locale, had been casual and easy. The conversation varied and entertaining. Jeff was one of those men who seemed to know something about everything, and—whether the topic be movies, her wish list of travel destinations or the local economy—listened as much as he talked. And by the time they’d finished their coffees, Darcy had stopped second-guessing whether agreeing to go out with him had been a mistake, and was looking forward to finding out where they would go next.

From there they’d hit a rooftop roller coaster, stopped to get Jeff a snack at her favorite taco stand, driven out to the Neon Museum where the old signs of casinos past were put out to pasture, stopped to watch the choreographed fountains and then went on to walk the famous casino and hotel’s gallery of fine art.

Along the way, Jeff seemed to make fast friends with everyone. He checked the score for big games with valets, and made small talk with old ladies when he held the door for them. He was the kind of smooth that normally had warning bells clanging in Darcy’s head but for some reason, with Jeff, none of her typical knee-jerk reactions or default defenses were coming to the fore. In fact, she found herself letting go around him in a way she seldom did.

And the laugh he’d been working so hard to earn… well, once they’d left the casino, she’d given up the fight and had been paying with interest ever since. Laughing at his outrageous stories, at herself, at a last night in Sin City she never would have expected. A night she doubted she’d ever forget. Because not only was she experiencing a side of Vegas that had been previously unavailable to her, but thanks to Jeff’s curiosity about her tastes, she had a last opportunity to relish those old favorites, by introducing them to him and explaining what made each a standout on her list.

It was a getting-to-know-you game. One she never would have played if she hadn’t been leaving. But there was a safety in knowing this was just one night. No risk of expectations getting away from her. Darcy knew the score. This was about a few hours of fun. It was safe.

At least that’s what she’d thought until the zip line ended and her feet touched the ground. Jeff walked over and, catching her hand in his, pulled her gently against him in a hold that really shouldn’t have come across as anything but casual. Only with the heat of his body seeping into hers, the steady, deep thud of his heart beneath her hand and the warm rush of his breath teasing through the hair behind her ear as he asked in that low rough voice of his if she was having a good time—casual had never felt so intimate.

Tipping her head back to meet his eyes, she nodded, swallowing past a wordless reaction she wasn’t accustomed to. A displaced sort of tug low in her belly made her feel as though she were flying and falling all at once. Jeff’s gaze searched her own, drifted lower. Her thoughts went to the moment when he’d touched her mouth back at the bar. To the words she’d said.

…I won’t go back to your room…

And the question of whether she still meant them.

“Let’s go find someplace to get a drink and figure out what’s next on our agenda,” he said taking a step back as he let her go. The move was so unexpected, Darcy nearly stumbled at the absence of contact.

For an instant she’d been sure he would kiss her. Even now as he scanned the surrounding area in search of their next stop, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t felt the press of his lips against hers.

More, she couldn’t believe she’d wanted to. Because what kind of madness would that be?

Jeff reached around her, resting his hand at the small of her back and asked, “What’s the best bar in a three-block radius?”

The light contact felt good, even if for a crazy moment she’d thought she might want more. This was quality date stuff and she wasn’t in any hurry to lose it. But a bar… “How about ice cream? There’s a creamery just up the way here.”

At Jeff’s speculative look, she answered his unspoken question. “It’s sort of a trust thing.”

There was no judgment in his eyes when he asked, “You don’t trust me? Or, and since you serve drinks for a living, I’m going to guess this isn’t it, you don’t trust yourself to stop?”

She laughed, leading the way as they walked. “The only person I trust is me. So don’t take it personally. I like to stay sharp because I don’t want to find out the hard way who I can or can’t trust not to take advantage.”

The easy smile Jeff had been sporting throughout the night slid from his lips and something dark and protective pushed into his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said with a knowing shake of her head. “There’s no horror story. At least not mine. In Vegas or probably any city, you hear things. I pay attention. And I’m just very…practical. I’ve always been like this.”

Jeff’s expression relaxed. “So you’re risk averse.”

“Some would say to a fault.”

“But not you?”

“But not me. If I thought I was doing something wrong, living in a way that didn’t satisfy me or left me feeling like I was somehow missing out—I’d change it. Like I said, I’m pretty good at looking out for myself. I’m my number one priority. So I’m not really one to sit idle waiting for someone else to call out my problems or fix them for me.”

“So you’re a risk averse woman of action, taking charge of your own destiny.”

The corners of her mouth curled beneath his succinct categorization of her.

She’d been called a lot of things, by a lot of guys when they hadn’t gotten their way with her. Cold, hard, icy. Names that indicated her lack of interest must stem from a shortcoming on her part rather than a simple lack of desire to pursue something with a guy making passes at her while she was at work.

She slanted Jeff a sidelong look. He was just that—a guy making passes at her while she was working. And yet something about him struck her as so wholly different. Different enough, that as she kept telling herself the reason she’d agreed to go with him was because it was her last night in Las Vegas, some small part of her wondered if she would have gone with him whether she’d been leaving or not.

No. She shook the thought off, casting an inward scowl at the idea she’d do something that went against her principles after she’d just explained how keen she was on self-preservation.

“Strong and independent. A woman who knows her own mind. I like that.”

“Yeah?” she asked, turning around to walk backward as she looked at him. “And me?”

“I definitely like you.” He raked those big hands through the mess of his hair as he scanned the sky above them and then met her eyes with a straightforward stare. “I like the way you surprise me. That I didn’t have you figured out within thirty seconds, or hell, even now, hours later.”

Her steps slowed and Jeff closed the distance between them, resting his hand over the curve of her hip. “And I like that I can make you laugh, because the sound of it—”

He shook his head, still holding her gaze. “When you give into it for me—” his fingers tightened against her hips in a brief possessive grip “—all I can think about is how I’m going to get you to do it again.”

* * *

“Jeff.”

If he’d thought her laugh knocked him flat, hell, it was nothing compared to the breathy sound of her voice when she said his name like that. Like maybe she wanted the very thing he’d been about killing himself not to press for.

Sure once he’d made up his mind about getting her to go out with him back at the lounge, he’d assumed the natural progression of the evening would lead to a physical conclusion. They were both adults and there’d been a chemistry between them.

And he wanted it.

Hell, yeah, he did.

But something kept holding him back through each of those crossroad moments where the opportunity to change the tone of the night presented itself. The conflict in her eyes was like none he’d seen before. And it spurred some deeply instinctual need in him to protect her.

This woman he’d thought had ice in her veins and could level a man with one look alone was vulnerable and for some reason, tonight, she’d trusted him to take her out, show her the good time she all too rarely got and give her the night she deserved without whatever had her worrying that lush bottom lip of hers between her teeth. They could be the simple, uncomplicated, good time the other remembered in the years to come.

He smiled, thinking Darcy would get a kick out of that bit of fire-hose-flexing ego.

Who the hell knew if she’d remember him next week, let alone next year. But he hoped she would. Because he’d remember her.

* * *

What was she doing, looking into this guy’s eyes like she couldn’t physically make herself look away.

She didn’t make the reckless choice. Not ever.

She didn’t give in to the feel-good moment.

She liked control. In her work, in her life, in her heart and mind.

But somehow Jeff with all his ego talk, comfort in his own skin, confidence in his actions…his going after anything and everything he wanted like it never occurred to him he couldn’t have it, was tempting her to behavior she didn’t indulge in.

Making her want something she knew she shouldn’t take. The experience of surrendering to a feeling. The chemistry tingling across her skin, batting around in her belly and whispering temptations through her mind since the first moment their eyes locked, and she realized this guy had just seen something she didn’t show to anyone. And he’d liked it.

Her belly knotted tight at the idea of stepping so far out of her comfort zone. She’d already made too many exceptions. Starting with the conversation at his table and ending with the two of them standing here looking into each other’s eyes.

Because Jeff was like a desert mirage. The kind of fantasy that could drive a woman to lose herself in the futile hope of finding shelter within a cool oasis that was never really within her grasp in the first place. Jeff was here for a single night. A few hours of fun.

She couldn’t afford to lose sight of that because her pride wouldn’t allow her to be one of those women who pinned all their hopes on the wealthy, jet-setting billionaire realizing the “good time” he picked up in Vegas—the city whose tourist industry had made a slogan of the promise that what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas—was actually the woman he’d been waiting for his whole life.

No. The only way she could give in on any level, was if it was on her terms. With her eyes open and her expectations clear.

There was no tomorrow with this man.

“A lot of questions in those eyes tonight, Darcy.” Jeff said, brushing her cheek with a single knuckle. “But there doesn’t have to be. Tell me you’re ready to call it a night and I’ll take you home and thank you for an evening I won’t soon forget. Or we can keep doing what we’ve been doing, without taking it any further at all. Stay up until morning. Watch the sun rise.”

His eyes held hers as he asked, “What would you like to do next?”

Her heart raced. He was giving her a clear out. The easy goodbye.

She could tell him good-night. Take a cab home to her packed-up apartment. Sleep snug in the knowledge she’d cut things off before they’d gone too far. Before she gave in to the risks that pushed her beyond the boundaries of safe.

Or she could answer with the truth. That something about being with him made her ache for things she never wanted. Made her body shiver and heat. And most of all, want to grab hold of this moment and just give in to it. Surrender.

She reached for the open neck of his shirt and, letting two fingers curve into the gap between the button and plain white T-shirt beneath, pushed to her toes to meet his mouth with her own.

It was the barest of kisses. The lightest brush. Separated from a friendly peck only by a quiet, lingering beat promising what she hadn’t found the words to say. Words she didn’t need, based on the satisfaction in the eyes meeting hers as she stepped back into her own space. The wolfish smile as Jeff shook his head and, taking her hand, tugged her back against him.

“I’ve been telling myself no all night, Darcy,” he murmured gruffly into her ear, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “If you’re saying yes, that little kiss isn’t going to be enough to tide me over until we get back to my room.”

Her words were barely more than a trembling whisper. “Then you better take what you need now.”

When he kissed her again, there was nothing tentative about it. Nothing friendly. It was firm and commanding. A decadent back-and-forth press of his lips against her own, deepening with every pass until she’d opened to him completely.

He licked into her mouth, his tongue gliding over hers in a wet velvet rub that had her fingers tightening in his shirt and a helpless whimper betraying her desire.

Her knees must have given out because he was holding her against him, supporting her in his powerful arms as he kissed her like she’d never been kissed before.

Senseless.

Breathless.

Taking her with the firm thrust of his tongue and—oh, that was so good—then again and again, until every part of her turned liquid and hot.

Needy.

Alive.

Another deep thrust and her belly twisted with a sensual hunger threatening to make her its slave. She’d been starved for this.

Jeff’s arms snaked tight around her, one hand running the length of her back until it covered her bottom, firmed over her, pulled her in closer as he bent her back so she could feel him against her, and oh, yes, yes—

Abruptly Jeff broke from the kiss, setting her back a step even as he continued to support her. No!

“That was enough?” she asked, panting, her lips tender in a way that made her desperate for more.

“Not even close.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth, the look on his face one of pure bewilderment. “But based on that kiss, I don’t think either one of us wants to risk what will happen if I get my hands on you in public again.”

Darcy wasn’t so sure. For more of what she’d just had, she might be willing to risk anything.

CHAPTER FOUR

SOMEHOW THEY’D MADE it back to Jeff’s suite. Barely. And when the door snicked closed, it was with Darcy against it. Jeff’s hands braced above her head as he devoured the lush mouth he’d gotten only the cruelest taste of back on the strip.

She was so hot and wet and soft, and how they made it back without him pulling her across his lap in the cab or taking her against one of those mirrored walls in the elevator, he had no idea. Because once he saw the indecision gone from her eyes, and got his first taste of the heat she’d been keeping as much a secret as everything else—God help him, all he could think was more.

He rocked into her, nearly losing it at the sound of those desperate little noises she kept making. The humming and moaning. Catching her breath when he hiked her legs at either side of his hips and ground against her. Purring when, after she locked her ankles at his back and urged him on, he did it again and again and again—driving them both mad with the contact that wouldn’t be enough until the clothes were gone and he was thrusting hard and deep inside her.

“Jeff, please,” she whimpered against his jaw, her body taut as he pushed her closer toward the peak she’d be visiting about a half dozen times over the next few hours if he had his way.

“Like this, baby?” he asked, canting his hips so the hard shaft of his erection rolled over her sweet spot.

Another desperate cry and her fingers knotted in his hair.

He’d take that as a yes.

“Jeff!” she gasped a second before her body arched and her lips parted on a silent cry that held and held and held but never found its voice. One that invited him to take advantage, licking and nipping as he carried her through the last waves of pleasure. And then she was kissing him back, her lax body a satisfying contrast to his. Her eyes, heavy-lidded and soft like he hadn’t seen them yet.

So gorgeous.

So damn sweet.

And for tonight, his.

Though even as he thought it, he realized one night wouldn’t be enough. Hell, he’d known before she kissed him he’d be back.

“Darcy,” he started, his mouth moving against the slender column of her neck. “This, tonight—”

Her fingers tightened in his hair as she urged him back to her mouth. “I know. It’s perfect. Everything I didn’t think I wanted.”

She kissed him again, distracting him with the slide of her tongue playing over his and the wiggle of her hips as she unlocked her ankles and went back to her feet. Her delicate hand smoothing down the front of his shirt, over his chest and stomach, and down the jutting ridge of his erection still contained behind the confines of his suit pants. He pushed into her palm, groaning at the feel of her stroking him through the fabric and then curling her fingers into his belt and, walking backward, tugged him toward the bedroom.

Perfect.

It was the single thought in his head, reverberating with each step as he let her lead him toward the only salvation he wanted.

They pulled at each other’s clothes, reveling in each new stretch of bared skin, tumbling onto the bed in a frenzied, desperate tangle of limbs. Darcy grabbed the condom he’d tossed up by the pillow and tore open the foil.

“I can’t wait,” she panted, her hands trembling as she began rolling the latex down his more than ready shaft.

“No more waiting,” he agreed, positioning himself between her legs so he was notched at her slick opening.

Their eyes met, and he pushed inside her with the first shallow thrust. It nearly killed him to pull back, but he wasn’t a small man and Darcy—heaven help him, she was so very tight. So he went slowly, carefully, penetrating by degrees until sweat beaded over his brow and his jaw clenched and finally he took her the way he needed to. Completely.

And then he was sliding full-length in and out of Darcy’s tight, wet heat, letting her soft moans and broken breath lead him down the decadent path to her pleasure, answering the needy clutch of her body when he touched her just right, reveling in the helpless surrender of her eyes when he held her at the brink—

“Tell me what you want.”

“Please, Jeff,” she gasped, her heels digging at the back of his thigh as she urged him toward the contact he wouldn’t give her until she gave him what he wanted first.

“Say it. Tell me and I’ll give you anything.”

Looking into his eyes, she gave up her fight for control, let her knees slide farther up his ribs and whispered, “Make me come.”

And then firmly he pushed her into oblivion…making sure not to follow himself. He wasn’t close to done with this woman.

* * *

Breathless. Boneless. Stunned and sated, Darcy lay within the damp sheets blinking at the ceiling as her body and mind worked in frantic concert to pull all the shattered bits of her back into some semblance of their previous working order. This wasn’t the way she was supposed to feel. Like something monumental had occurred. Like there’d been a sudden unexpected shift in her life. Like she’d had her first taste of incredible and from that point forward, nothing again would compare.

Because this was a one-night stand.

A date gone past midnight with a man who most definitely wasn’t her Prince Charming.

It was a one-off.

A last fling, because Jeff might be gorgeous, fun and devastating in bed…but he wasn’t offering her more than a good time.

They’d spent hours laughing and talking and working up to this last brash act, and for all the chemistry between them, for each glint in his eye that told her he was having as much fun as she was, there was another opportunity left untaken when he might have suggested the possibility of more. Asked about another date. Implied he was even considering something beyond a single night of simply killing time together.

The man was smooth. Slick. And just because he had the ability to make her act out of character didn’t mean tonight was anything out of the norm for him. For all she knew, Jeff hit a new bar each week, making his Friday night special the most hard-to-get girl in the place.

“Darcy, Darcy, Darcy.” Her name, rumbling against her neck like pebbled kisses, pushed all thoughts from her mind but one. It didn’t matter what Jeff did every other Friday night. This one he’d shared with her had been perfect.

Jeff lifted his head, pushing up on his arms to ease the weight of his body over hers—a weight she hadn’t been ready to give up and felt the immediate loss of as cool air slipped between the growing space between them.

Backing off the bed, he got sidetracked by her breast, which he stopped to kiss once at the side, then again on her nipple before casting her a wicked grin as he finished his retreat. “Give me a minute, sweetheart. Don’t go anywhere.”

She watched him walk to the bathroom and close the door behind him. Heard the muffled sound of the running tap and waited as the seconds ticked past.

Alone in the bed, she glanced around at the suite, noting the luxurious accommodations for the first time. It seemed extravagant. Frivolous.

Sure it wasn’t like he had sixteen rooms, but a suite, for one man through two nights?

The moments stretched by. The water was still running.

Beginning to feel somewhat self-conscious she reached for the sheet at the side of the bed, but came back with a handful of blouse instead.

Don’t go anywhere…

She looked at the sliver of light breaking beneath the door and then at the shirt in her grasp.

Don’t go anywhere…

Five minutes ago she wouldn’t even have considered it. She would have flopped back on the bed relishing the full-body fatigue that was the result of Jeff’s thorough attention.

Obviously, she wouldn’t have planned to stay forever. But she wouldn’t have considered up and leaving while he was in the other room, either.

Except then he’d gone and said it, and a thousand and one thoughts started pushing into her mind. They’d had sex. It was over. And though Jeff might not want her to run off that second, it was obvious from his words he expected her to go shortly. Which made perfect sense, this being what it was. A little meaningless fun.

But as she sat in the middle of his big bed, the heat of their intimacy dissipated into the air around her, what had happened between them still fresh and tender in her mind—so good—she wanted to protect the memory of it. This night had been a gift to herself. And she didn’t want to risk the simple perfection of it being lessened by Jeff’s inevitable dismissal.

Chances were, he’d be as adept at a goodbye as he’d been with everything else. And yet rather than wait, she found herself pulling on her shirt. Dragging the sheet off the bed with her as she sifted through the blast radius of discarded clothing, darting glances at the bathroom door as the water continued to run.

She didn’t want to be the one clinging to their last minute together. The one waiting to be excused.

She’d known what she was getting with Jeff from the start. A few hours of fun. He’d made sure she understood back at the bar.

Another look at the clock.

It’s why he’d chosen her in the first place. Because he’d recognized she had the sense not to get ideas where they didn’t belong.

* * *

Jeff gripped the marble countertop, staring at his reflection as he tried to pull himself together and figure out what to say.

Damn it, he always knew what to say. But he’d been off his game since about minute one with Darcy. Closing his mouth around a tongue inexplicably tied up over a girl he couldn’t quite figure out. And hadn’t had nearly enough of.

That’s where his head had been when he dragged himself out of bed, walked into the bathroom with the intent to clean up and then come back with an offer of…something.

Something more than the cursory “thanks for the great time, have a nice life” that generally came as standard with the kind of night they’d just indulged in.

He liked her. Liked the way she made him laugh and her unique perspective on—well, hell—everything. Sure she lived in Vegas, and this wasn’t exactly a typical stopover for him. But if she was receptive, he’d been thinking about making it one. Or better yet, swinging by to pick her up and bring her down to L.A. once in a while. For an overnight or maybe even a weekend.

That’s where his head had been until he looked down to discover the condom he’d been using had failed in a no-maybe-about-it kind of way.

Now? He was trying to figure out how to break the news to Darcy, rolling through the scenarios, imagining what he was going to see on her face when he told her. Accusation, fear, dread.

The idea he would cause her any of those things was like a blow to the gut. He wasn’t that guy. Not to anyone.

Not after Margo, his girlfriend through most of high school and college, and the woman he’d assumed, like everyone else, he would marry. At least until the day she’d come to him red-eyed and blotchy-cheeked with the confession she’d slept with another guy. She’d felt claustrophobic, trapped by all the expectations of their too serious, too neat, too well-planned relationship. She’d wanted out and, though a phone call would have been less traumatic to all involved, she’d found her escape in the bed of some frat guy with a coke habit.

As a result of that lesson, Jeff had all but perfected the no-hold relationship. He was a safe guy. A good time. The lover who always remained a friend after, because the romance never went too deep to come back from.

He kept his finger on the pulse of his affairs, making communication a priority. It was why he’d gotten his reputation as “Mr. Sensitive”—which was fine by him if it meant avoiding another blindside like the one he’d taken with Margo. Hell, yes, he’d talk about feelings. And the added benefit of that open dialogue? Nothing got too serious. No one got the wrong idea.

He was not the guy who put panic into someone’s eyes. But that’s what was about to happen. Because if ever there was a way to make a woman feel trapped, this was it.

Pulling it together, he reminded himself while this was the first time it had happened to him, it certainly wasn’t the first time a condom had broken in history. Both he and Darcy were adults who understood prophylactics weren’t 100 percent. Accidents happened. And this was an accepted risk inherent to sex.

They’d talk. He’d assure her he was compulsive about using protection and he was clean. She’d tell him that while she didn’t generally go home with guys she just met, she was on birth control and also clean. They’d exchange contact information and stay in touch.

But whatever fantasies Jeff had been entertaining about going forward with a casual relationship had pretty well shriveled under the icy splash of reality offered in the form of a blown-out rubber. And now all he was thinking was he’d be damn lucky to make a clean getaway.

Tightening the towel wrapped around his hips, he headed out of the bathroom and froze with one hand midrub at the back of his skull, his mouth open and all thoughts of what he’d been about to say gone—just like the woman he’d been inside of less than ten minutes before.

CHAPTER FIVE

Present day…

* * *

MOMENTS LATER THE bathroom door swung open and the mother of what was presumably his child emerged.

The cool steely gray of her eyes met with his. Eyes he remembered warming through the course of those hours they spent together. Eyes he’d watched go soft beneath him, and had made him wonder if a single night was going to be enough. Eyes that had haunted him for weeks after he’d been back in L.A., until he’d forced himself to put them out of his head. Get a new game plan and move on.

Which is exactly what he’d done.

Olivia.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he gave his head a stern shake. One thing at a time.

Darcy took a nervous breath and then cleared her throat. “So, maybe we should start by getting a few things straight up front.”

Jeff nodded, checking the legal pad he’d started making a list on. “Agreed.”

Validate paternity.

Confirm/upgrade health care.

Establish child support.

Hire nurse.

Buy house with yard and security.

Start screening for nanny.

Private preschools (*gifted and talented programs?).

Top five universities in country.

Quality playgroups.

Safety reports *family vehicles.

“I don’t want to marry you,” she said abruptly, wincing almost as soon as the words left her mouth.

Jeff blinked.

Wait. She didn’t want to marry him?

He blew out a measured breath while mentally talking his ego down from the ledge. Because seriously, after slinking out of his bed without so much as a “thanks for the good time, sport,” that’s how she wanted to kick this conversation off?

“Not that I remember asking,” he said evenly. “But good to know we’re on the same page.”

Or maybe not quite so evenly after all, considering the slender brow arched in his direction, topping off an all too familiar look that did something to him not entirely bad, but not exactly welcome, either.

Their eyes held a beat before she glanced away. “And I’m not interested in picking things up where we left off.”

“Something the woman I’m seeing will appreciate, I’m sure.”

Yeah, and best to get that out there right away, even though he was fairly certain there wasn’t one thing about this Olivia was going to appreciate.

Especially if she ever got a look at Darcy. Because even having just spent twenty minutes losing her lunch, she was still a knockout. So far as he could see the pregnancy hadn’t done much to her body yet.

Before he realized where that thought was taking him, his attention was doing a slow crawl south of her neckline, roaming over the full curves and narrowing tucks of a figure that—

“That’s great about your girlfriend, but I’m not here to option my baby, either, so…” Her fingers came into his line of sight which happened to have stalled out around the navel he’d dipped his tongue into, snapping twice and then veering into the universal eyes up here mister flag. “…so whatever you’re thinking with that look on your face? Stop.”

“Optioning your baby?” he choked out. “Excuse me?”

Her shoulders squared up.

“Well, you were staring,” she shot back with an accusing jut of her chin. Then seeming to lose a bit of her bravado, she more quietly added, “With a sort of greedy, speculative look on your face. How am I supposed to know what you’re thinking?”

Jeff shook his head, opened his mouth once and then simply closed it again, because…

Really?

And then it was like the tension that had been accumulating since she’d first lunged past him…just snapped. And suddenly, all he could do was laugh. Which probably didn’t do much to alleviate the whole greedy, speculative vibe he’d been putting off, but oh, well. Apparently there wasn’t much lower he could sink to in Darcy’s eyes.

So instead, he simply rubbed his palms over his cheeks and looked across at the woman who’d turned his life upside down in a single night, and just when he thought he’d put it back to rights, showed up and sent him into a tailspin.

One he needed to pull out of and fast.

“Relax. I got distracted by your body. It doesn’t look like it’s changed much.” And at the risk of coming across like a jerk, he added the truth. “You look good, Darcy.”

“Oh.” Then after a moment she rolled her eyes as if making some painful, grudging acknowledgment herself. “Thank you. You look good, too. Even though it doesn’t matter.”

He couldn’t help the grin, but as it turned out, she didn’t seem to mind, answering with one of her own.

It caught him off guard, but he recovered quickly, suggesting they sit down and talk.

Darcy stepped away from the door and crossed over to the couch where Jeff set an empty can on the floor, out of the way but still within reach.

She looked down and her eyes fluttered through a few wet blinks. “You got a fresh can for me?”

She was looking at him like he’d just handed over the keys to a new Mercedes.

“I didn’t want you to have to put your face in the old one.”

Her hand moved to what was still the flat plane of her belly and she gave him a watery half smile he didn’t quite understand, but sensed meant something important to her. “You’re a thoughtful guy, Jeff.”

And there it was. Reassurance. Because she had to be scared out of her mind right now, coming to him when he was virtually a stranger.

Reaching for her hand, Jeff gave it a brief squeeze and looked her in the eyes. “Hey, this is all going to work out fine. Don’t be nervous.” He sat back, legal pad in hand. “So, where should we start—after, you’re pregnant, of course.”

She winced almost as if hearing the words was still new and shocking to her. But then maybe that was the best place. “When did you find out?”

“I didn’t know until a week ago. Which is late, but…” She offered a frustrated little shrug. “My cycle is irregular enough so I don’t really wait around for it and, normally I don’t have any reason to anyway. But the past few months…I’ve been running pretty much nonstop. I thought the stomach upset was nerves. Then it got worse and I thought I must have caught the flu everyone was talking about, except it didn’t get better.”

He was following her words, but a part of him was still stuck on this news being nearly as new to Darcy as it was to him. “Have you been to a doctor yet?”

“For the blood test.” She opened her purse, retrieved the printout she’d gotten from the lab and handed it over. “But my first appointment isn’t until next week.”

Jeff scanned the paperwork before setting it on the small table beside his chair. “So, if you don’t want to get married, or pick things up from where we left off…I think it makes sense to ask, what do you want?”

“I’d like you to agree to a paternity test.”

* * *

Darcy could see the wheels turning in his head, the man stepping back from the prospect of fatherhood with the idea maybe this child wasn’t his.

“Jeff,” she said as gently as she could. “You should understand, I’m only asking for the test for your benefit because I don’t expect you to take the word of some woman you knew for a handful of hours three months ago. But there are no other options. This baby is yours. Once you have the confirmation from a lab, the decision you need to make is whether you want to be a father to it. That’s what I need to find out.”

Jeff was watching her closely, his eyes so intense she had to fight the urge to squirm under his scrutiny. For a guy who could do irreverent like she’d never seen it done before, there was another, more serious, side to Jeff to balance it. And in this moment, the balance was a comfort.

“No other options? You’re telling me you haven’t slept with anyone else since we were together.”

She took a bracing breath, not insulted by his request for clarification. “I realize I haven’t given you much reason to believe this, but I don’t make a habit of going home with guys I just met. Or at all, really. There wasn’t anyone else.”

Jeff drew a long slow breath, his eyes still on her, but his focus seemingly directed inward. He nodded.

“Okay. So the test is basically a formality. I’ll have Legal look into it and set something up. In the meantime, I’m going to be a father. I may need to get used to the idea, but as to whether I’m up to the responsibility, there’s no deliberation necessary.” He pushed to his feet and walked back to his desk. “So how are we going to do this?”

“Could we start with the paternity test and go from there?” she asked. “This is still so new to me, too. I wanted to get in touch with you right away, but I haven’t worked out exactly how I feel about everything. I guess I just wanted to know where you stood before I started making too many decisions about a future you might want a say in.”

He let out a contemplative breath. “Okay. I can respect that. And I appreciate it. So we’ll take this one step at a time. Start with the test. You could think about whether moving is something you’d consider and we’ll set something up to talk in a week?”

She nodded, relieved by his easy accommodation and perhaps by the distance he’d established between them with that last parting comment. It would be an appointment. Because they were going to handle this like business.

Exactly the way she wanted them to.

CHAPTER SIX

WITH HIS AFTERNOON cleared, there was nothing Jeff would have rather done than call Connor. Tell his best friend he wasn’t the only one to pick up a souvenir in Vegas. Talk out the changes ahead of him and have the guy—the only guy on the planet who knew him as well as he knew himself—tell him he had his back.

But Connor had just reconciled with his wife—a woman he’d married within hours of meeting that same night Jeff met Darcy—and even if Jeff thought he could live with himself for interrupting them…he was fairly certain the two lovebirds were still off the grid.

Just as well.

There was someone else who deserved to know what was happening first.

Olivia. The woman he’d started a relationship with five weeks ago. The something Jeff had found to fill the empty spot in his life he’d only become aware of after Vegas.

Jogging across the marble-and-glass atrium, Jeff caught the elevator to Olivia’s top floor office.

How the hell was he going to explain this? And how would she take it?

Things had been going well with them. They’d been a smart fit from the start. Comfortable together, compatible.

She was open and pleasant. Harvard educated. Business savvy. Connected.

Two hours ago, he would have given it six months at the outside before he popped the question. And only because it seemed like an appropriate time to wait. In Olivia he’d found a woman who was all the things he’d known he wanted for a partner in life from as far back as he could remember—from the first time he looked across the table at his parents and thought to himself, someday, I want that.

The business journal over morning coffee. The dinners at the club. The shared interests for their shared lifestyle. The sparkling hostess championing the charities and foundations they supported.

It sounded shallow as he itemized it in his head, but it wasn’t.

He wanted the kind of good match that meant a lifetime of companionable, easy happiness. What his parents had up until the day five years ago when a heart attack took his father. The best man he’d ever know. The example Jeff had always hoped to live up to. Hell, he wished he was around to talk to about this.

Riding up to Olivia’s, he couldn’t help question what she would think when she looked at the woman he’d been with before her. The one who’d been his wake-up call about putting an end to the screwing around with women who weren’t right for him and thinking about getting serious with one who was. Settling down. Starting a family.

Olivia would see everything she wasn’t when she looked at Darcy.

And it would make her wonder.

Darcy had been a good time he hadn’t seen coming. And the only reason she’d gotten under his skin the way she had was because of the way she’d left.

So the chemistry between them had been hot enough that even months later, he could feel the lingering burn of it, so what? That was sex. Not exactly a foundation to build a solid forever on. But neither was it something he could, in good conscience, ignore when it came to a relationship with another woman.

“Hey, Mel. She in?” he asked, when he got to her office.

“She’s on a call. Should I interrupt?”

“No. I’ll wait.”

This was news he needed to tell her today and in person.

Sometime later, Jeff was searching stages of pregnancy on his phone, checking them against his calendar and travel commitments when Olivia’s office door swung open and she walked out to greet him with a welcoming smile.

“Jeffrey, what a wonderful surprise!”

“Got a few minutes for me?” he asked, unfolding from the deep sofa to lead her back into the office. And once there, he closed the door behind them. “Is it private in here?”

Olivia’s brow crumpled a bit at the question as she looked at the closed door behind him and then her neatly organized desk loaded with her current projects. “I was thinking you might be here to take me to lunch.” Her nose crinkled before reluctantly meeting his eyes again. “But are you here for something…else?”

A bark of laughter escaped him as he realized the direction of her thoughts. She’d thought he was here for some kind of afternoon desktop quickie. Yeah, now he got her confusion. It wasn’t exactly like that between them.

Shaking his head, he crossed to the cluster of club chairs across her office and held a hand out asking her to join him. “No, Olivia, I’m sorry. Something…unexpected has come up. We need to talk.”

A little furrow had cut between her delicate brows as she lowered herself into the chair across from him. “You’re worrying me, Jeffrey. What’s happened?”

Looking at her guileless face and earnest eyes, he wished there was some way to sugarcoat the bitter news he was about to give her. But it wouldn’t help either of them. “A couple of months before we met, I spent the night with a woman who came to my office today. She’s pregnant.”

Olivia sat stone still, her eyes gone wide. “Was there something between you?”

He opened his mouth to say no, but said instead, “It was one night.”

“Who is she? Would I know her? Is she the type to keep quiet? What does she want from you?”

“I doubt very much you know her, unless you’ve spent more time in Vegas than you let on.”

“She’s a stripper. Oh, God, Jeffrey, please tell me she isn’t a prostitute.”

“No!” He raked a hand back through his hair. “No, she was the waitress at a bar I was stuck at waiting for Connor the night he met Megan. I was killing time and one thing led to another.”

He didn’t like the sound of his explanation, but the deeper, expanded version of the truth wasn’t something Olivia needed to hear.

“You just found out? So, there hasn’t been any time for conclusive paternity testing, then. This baby might not even be yours. I mean, Jeffrey, one night with some Vegas cocktail girl three months ago. We don’t know anything yet.”

A part of him wanted to agree. Tell her she was probably right and to give him a few weeks to sort it out. Only she deserved the whole truth. “We’ll have the DNA testing done, but I already know this baby is mine.”

She didn’t ask for details but he could see the understanding in her eyes. The way the hope shifted toward disappointment.

She swallowed, withdrawing her hands from his to tuck them around her waist. “Are you going to marry her?”

Darcy’s emphatic pre-proposal rejection came to mind, pushing a wry smile to his mouth. “No.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding slowly before meeting his eyes with a steel he hadn’t encountered in hers before. “Then cut her a check.”

He stared hard at the woman seated across from him, the one he’d thought might be able to share his life. “To what, go away? Disappear?” He couldn’t even voice the next alternative he hoped to hell she wasn’t suggesting.

Something roared inside him, as a protective instinct churned hot in his gut. “It’s my child.”

“And we’ll raise it as ours,” she said quickly, taking his hands. “We’ll get married. Have a private adoption. We’ll craft an explanation to suit us both.”

Adoption. Of course, that’s where Olivia’s head would have gone first. Adoption and marriage. A neat package, except for the part where she’d completely discounted Darcy as a part of the equation beyond a dollar amount on a check.

“Jeffrey, we have something here. Something I’ve been waiting to find for a very long time. We could make this work.”

Offering Olivia’s hand a quick squeeze, he pushed up from his chair.

He needed to cut Olivia some slack. She’d jumped to the wrong conclusion, probably because the few details he’d parceled out pointed that way. She was trying to come up with a solution to a problem he’d dropped in front of them. It just wasn’t the right one.

Walking over to the bank of windows, he rubbed his hand over his jaw. Darcy was right. They all needed a little time to get their heads around this new development.

“Darcy doesn’t want to give the baby up. She was offering me an opportunity to be a part of its life. Not to…option it off. You don’t know her.”

Olivia sat back, watching him the way he watched guys from across the conference table. Reading their tells and all the things their faces and bodies said without their mouths having to. “And you do?”

“Only enough to say, she wasn’t here to give her child up.”

“Okay. Then we’ll take it from there.” She followed him across the office, laying her hand gently over his arm.

“Olivia, I don’t know what this next year is going to bring. I think it might be better for everyone if we—”

“No. I’m not going to give up on us because things aren’t exactly the way I thought they would be.” She met his eyes. “We’re so well suited. So right. All I’m asking is you give us a chance before making any decisions. Please.”

Jeff wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She felt stiff against him. Like an off fit in a way he’d never noticed before.

Which he supposed made sense, considering he’d just put something between them neither of them knew exactly how to deal with. Now the least he could do was grant her request and give them a chance.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“YOU GOT THE waitress pregnant?” Connor shook his head, rocking back on his bar stool as though the news had physically blown him over. “You’re sure? I mean, all the question marks…?”

Jeff nodded. “Had a DNA test pushed through, but even if I hadn’t—I’m sure.”

“A baby. How in the hell?”

At Jeff’s raised brow, the other man held up a staying hand.

“Don’t. I know how. Your dad did a bang-up job with the ‘talk’ back in high school. I just can’t believe—you—like this—now.” Then shooting him a concerned look, he asked, “Someone mentioned you were seeing Olivia Deveraux. That you two might be serious.”

“Before Darcy showed up at my office, I would have put money on a future with Olivia. But now.” Now, even two weeks later, he wasn’t any closer to knowing what their future held. Olivia hadn’t changed. “She wants it to work. Offered to marry me and adopt the baby.”

“Generous.”

“If Darcy were considering giving it up. But not for even a single second.”

He thought about her busting him looking at her narrow waist, and accusing him of trying to option her baby. Once again giving in to the reoccurring grin that stomped all over his face every time he thought about her outraged, accusing look, he held up his hands. “She’s going to be an amazing mother. You can see it.”

“Olivia?”

Jeff caught Connor’s stare and the subtle, unspoken question behind it. “Darcy. But, yeah, I’m sure Olivia would, too.”

Connor pushed his drink around in a neat square on the bar. “But you don’t see it with her?”

Worse, he wasn’t even sure he’d looked. Olivia had asked him to give them a chance and so far he hadn’t made the time to actually do it.

“I’ve been so focused on Darcy, there hasn’t been a lot of time for anyone or anything else. She’s living in San Francisco and I’ve been trying to talk her into moving down here. But she’s…stubborn. I think she intends to move, but not until the baby comes. She’s got a job and—” He shook his head. “And the job thing is a really big deal to her. But I’m not giving up. I want her here, like yesterday.”

“Am I missing something about the waiting tables thing? What the hell kind of job does she have that you can’t compete with it?”

Jeff rocked back in his chair and expelled a frustrated breath. “One she got for herself.”

Understanding lit Connor’s eyes. “She does know who you are, right?”

“She doesn’t care who I am.” He raked a hand through his hair. “She won’t take any money until the baby comes. And, damn it, she’s just very independent…and stubborn.”

Connor’s brows pulled together and his jaw cocked to one side.

Jeff scowled at him. “It’s not like that. Even if Olivia weren’t in the picture. We’ve already agreed, in no uncertain terms, neither of us is interested in picking things up from where we left them. What Darcy is to me is the most important person in the life of the most important person in mine. Our relationship is going to be about this kid and it’s got to work forever. Which means there’s too much at stake to risk any potential friction over some affair gone bad.”

And he knew from experience what the fallout from a failed relationship could cost.

Connor took a swallow of his drink. “Right. Definitely not worth the risk for an affair.”

Jeff stared at him. “I’m serious.”

A nod. “Okay.”

Oh, that burned. “Bite me.”

Connor grinned and flagged the bartender for the tab. “Sorry, my friend. Megan doesn’t share.”

* * *

The elevator doors opened at the eleventh floor and Jeff followed Olivia down the hall toward her apartment.

She cast a bright smile over her shoulder at him, her efficient steps eating up the distance to her door. “Thank you for dinner tonight. I know how busy you’ve been.”

That was Olivia. Not raking him over the coals. Sensitive to the situation he was in while letting him know she still enjoyed seeing him when the opportunity arose. He hadn’t meant for their relationship to fall by the wayside, but he’d been neglecting her for weeks. Working long hours and even through the couple of times he’d taken her out, he’d been distracted. There, but not really there. Because being with Olivia wasn’t enough to keep his mind from visiting all the places he didn’t want it to go. To Darcy.

To the space he was trying to give her, and how hard he was trying not to hate the space she already had. To wondering what she’d do if he pushed too hard.

It wasn’t fair. But Olivia had been so accommodating. Assuring him she understood. He shouldn’t put her off. He shouldn’t be able to.

And yet, as he walked behind her his mind kept drifting to another woman. How she was feeling? If anyone was making her laugh? If her belly was starting to show?

“You’re coming in?” Olivia asked at her door, putting the breaks on a train of thought threatening to go off the rails and pulling him back to the woman who ought to be holding his attention for the few hours they had together.

She was watching him expectantly. As if she knew, mentally he’d already dropped her at her door and was halfway back to the office. Where he’d have a fighting chance of losing himself in work.

“Olivia,” he started, catching her chin in the crook of his finger. “I’ve got a call scheduled with Hong Kong in three hours.”

She leaned a shoulder against the frame of the door and looked him over assessingly.

“Then you’ve got two and a half to spend with me.” Her fingers wrapped around his tie to tug him closer. “I know you’ve been waiting, not pushing the physical element of our relationship out of respect for me, but it’s time. You need a distraction, Jeff. Let me help you forget for a while.”

Respect. Maybe that was part of what had been holding him back. But to really respect her meant acknowledging that not taking the next physical step in their relationship had been far too easy. She deserved better than to be used as a distraction. And far, far better than a distraction he already knew wouldn’t work.

He’d tried to tell himself this was the woman for him. The perfect fit he’d imagined her to be when they first started seeing each other. Because she’d been so different from the one who’d walked away… But once Darcy stepped back into the picture he’d started making comparisons.

“Jeff, you said you’d give us a try. Can’t you please, come in and let me show you how it could be between us, if you let it?”

He hated the pleading in her eyes, hated knowing it was about to turn to hurt. But it was, because his hands had already moved to her shoulders, gently putting the space back between them. “I’m sorry, Olivia.”

* * *

Oh, no, not again.

Darcy sat at the folding table in the suddenly too warm back room of the party coordinating business where she’d been hired to inventory catering supplies, stuff envelopes, assemble favors, scoop birdseed satchels and anything else the overbooked business needed assistance with during their seasonal rush.

The pay wasn’t great, but she’d been lucky the manager of the restaurant where she’d been working had put in a good word with the owner to get her the temporary position. And at least she was maintaining an income, if somewhat reduced.

A few more weeks and the nausea would ease because it couldn’t get any worse. And once her stomach was back under control—

As if on cue, her belly lurched again.

“You okay?” her boss asked from the open doorway.

Darcy pushed to her feet, lifting a hand to let the older woman know she was fine. Except the shrinking edges of the room hazing into sepia tones warned she wasn’t.

She tried to get a hand back to the table, but too quickly everything went loose and dark and down until there was only one thought left in her head…and that was the silent plea that her baby be okay.

* * *

Darcy woke slowly, her senses coming back online one at a time as she registered the hard mattress of the hospital bed beneath her, the dimmed overhead light and the deep rumble of a voice she hadn’t been expecting. One which shouldn’t have been coming from anywhere near her.

Jeff.

“…Dehydration, fatigue, low blood pressure, weight loss… No, they say both she and the baby will be all right, but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving without—”

She shifted in the bed, remembering too late about the needle threaded into her vein and letting out a short gasp when she put weight on it.

Whatever Jeff had been about to say, she missed and now the conversation was over. Jeff was suddenly in her room, filling up the small space with his enormous presence. Dropping his phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he crossed to her bed like he was going to slide into the open chair beside her. But instead, he reached for the call button and signaled the nurse before taking a step back. Fixing her with a serious look. “Do you need anything? How are you feeling?”

“Tired still, but, Jeff, you didn’t need to come. I told Charlie, they just wanted me to get some fluids and an antinaus—”

“You told me you were fine.” It wasn’t exactly accusation she was getting off him, but the intensity was like a palpable thing. “I spoke to your doctor already and hyperemesis gravidarum can be dangerous and severe. You are not fine, Darcy.”

Guilt washed over her in a wave. She’d thought it was just morning sickness in an all-day, extended package, which she’d heard was normal, too. Though she’d planned to speak to her doctor at her next checkup about the extremity of it, she’d had no idea her body had begun turning against her, threatening what she’d been struggling to protect.

“I didn’t know it had gotten so bad. I don’t own a scale so I didn’t know how much weight I’d lost. My clothes fit a little differently, loose, but I’d heard lots of people lose weight early on.” She felt a burning pressure at the backs of her eyes and blinked to defend against the emotions trying to slip free.

She was supposed to be the one who took her responsibilities seriously and made the right decisions. She was supposed to be able to count on herself. Her child’s life depended on it.

She swallowed and looked up at Jeff.

The man who was all laughter and easy good times hadn’t shown up at her bedside. This Jeff was serious. No-nonsense. And he was here because the woman responsible for protecting his child hadn’t even realized she was at risk of failing.

This Jeff had every reason for making an appearance. If the tables were turned, she’d be looking at him the same way.

“Jeff, I’m sorry.”

He nodded, but the look in his eyes was hard. “Here’s the deal, Darcy. I know you’re tough and I know you’re independent. But I’m uncomfortable with you alone like this. From what I understand, it was a fluke your boss happened to be walking by when you passed out. You work in isolation for hours at a stretch. Take public transportation home alone to the apartment you don’t share with anyone else. You don’t have anyone here looking out for you, so what I’m asking, is does it really make sense for you to still be up here?”

She looked down at her hands, at the plastic tube snaking its way up her arm, feeling more alone in that moment than she could ever remember feeling before.

“I’ve got a job here, Jeff.”

He stepped closer to the bed, and after a pause, dropped into the chair beside her. His hand moved to her belly and rested there for a beat. “You’ve got our baby in here. And he’s kicking your butt. Come back with me and I’ll take care of you. We’ll get through this together. You don’t have to be on your own.”

Darcy couldn’t take her eyes off the sight of his hand against her stomach, couldn’t think about anything but the heat radiating from his touch and how good it felt, when nothing had felt good, since the last time—the first time—he’d put his hands on her.

Which she couldn’t think about. Not like this. Not with him touching her in a way that was so totally not about her at all, but about the child they shared together. About his concern.

Jeff cleared his throat. “We could get married.”

Darcy stiffened. “We don’t even know each other.”

“I don’t mean permanently. Just until the baby is born, so he’d be legitimate.”

The breath leaked from her lungs, as she shook her head, trying to ignore that pinch of disappointment there was no justification for. “Legitimacy isn’t any reason to get married, Jeff.”

“I know. Forget it.” Jeff let out an impatient growl, pulled his hand away and then ran it through the mess of his hair going on as if he hadn’t dropped that bomb. “You’re determined to work?”

He couldn’t understand, but he needed to accept it. “Yes.”

“Fine.” He stood, stared down at the spot where his hand had been and nodded.

Then heading for the door, he looked back with a frown. “I actually know of a position that might be the perfect fit.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“YOU LOW-DOWN, DIRTY liar,” Darcy accused, her color looking better than Jeff had seen it since Vegas.

Catching the finger she was jabbing into his chest with a gentle hand, he eased her back into the deep leather seat of the limo and clarified. “I never lied.”

Omitted, evaded and manipulated? Yes.

Definitely.

But he’d taken one look at her lying in that hospital bed, and decided the moral hit was one he’d gladly take to ensure he got Darcy out of San Francisco and down to L.A. where he could make certain she was getting what she needed.

“False pretenses, Jeff,” she hissed, her head working like a spindle as she shot nervous looks out one window after another as they rolled through the immaculately manicured upscale neighborhood of Beverly Hills.

“I told you, it was a part-time position as a personal assistant—”

“Oh, you told me all right,” she snapped. “Flexible hours, excellent benefits including room and board, assisting an elderly widow with her social and charitable obligations—”

Her words cut off with a squeak as they turned into a private community where security waved them through.

“Hey, I never said elderly. I said older. Which is true.” That’s all he needed. The wrath of both his pregnant non-girlfriend combined with the wrath of his—

“Your mother, Jeff!”

The key here was to remain calm. Not to reach over and haul Darcy into his lap and yell into her face about all the things he didn’t like about their situation. About his lack of say. And her stubborn mule streak and the fact that she wasn’t going to need a damn job for the rest of her damned life and why the hell wouldn’t she just take one of the damn checks he kept trying to give her.

So instead, he blew out a controlled breath and met her enraged stare. Turned up his palms and shrugged. “She needed an assistant.”

Okay, so his mother hadn’t actually needed the assistant until Jeff called her and told her she did. But then, she’d rather desperately started needing one. Had been downright giddy about it, truth be told.

“Oh, does she? Your mother is so very busy, so lonely and desperate for help, she needs a woman she doesn’t know moving into her home with her. A high school dropout, Jeff, who grew up in a beat-down trailer on the wrong side of the park. A Vegas cocktail waitress who went home with a virtual stranger, got knocked up and then—surprise!—showed up three months later. You think that’s the woman your mother needs assisting her with her charitable endeavors?”

Jeff stared, wondering who was in this car with him. Because the woman he’d met in Vegas, the one who’d shown up at his office, and he’d been talking to every few nights for the past few weeks knew her own worth and would never in a million years let anyone undervalue her the way she’d just undervalued herself.

He understood pregnancy hadn’t been a part of her plan, and he expected the loss of control for a woman who’d been all about the ironclad of it, had been a tough pill to swallow. He was certain it had shaken her confidence. But the words that had just come out of her mouth angered him.

“I don’t know who to be offended for first, my mother, myself, my kid or you. Look, I don’t come from a family of snobs. Yeah, we’ve got money and have had for a long time. But it doesn’t mean we don’t know the value of hard work, or respect people who’ve had to overcome challenges different than the ones we’ve faced. And here’s something else. My mother respects me. That I took you home the night I met you will tell her something about you, too.”

Darcy let out bitter laugh. “My measurements?”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Darcy? If it was just about your body—” And then he was right where he shouldn’t be. Inches from Darcy’s face, his eyes searching hers for any sign of the understanding he couldn’t believe wasn’t there. “Damn it, you know that wasn’t how it was. I wanted you!”

As soon as the words left his mouth he cursed himself for saying them. Going forward as they intended would be easier without the acknowledgment of an attraction that was more than physical driving the hot pursuit he hadn’t been able to shut down their first night together. But listening to Darcy sell herself short, he hadn’t been able to stop himself.

Only now, as he saw the surprise in her eyes—the flash of hurt or remorse, maybe?—he realized she didn’t know. Or at least hadn’t been sure.

How could she have missed it? Why hadn’t she believed him?

And what the hell difference did it make now? None.

Except perhaps to underscore yet another way in which he’d misperceived their initial connection. As much as he sometimes sensed that they were, he and Darcy weren’t on the same page. He needed to remember that.

Jeff cleared his throat and sat back.

What mattered now was getting Darcy to agree to getting out of this car when they arrived, moving into his mother’s house and if she was going to be bullheaded about the damn job thing, accepting the make-believe position of his mother’s assistant.

Which meant getting her to settle down in the next thirty seconds before they reached the turnoff for his house.

“Couple things we need to get straight, Darcy. Here’s what I know. You’ve got your G.E.D., have a clean credit history, no criminal record, pay your own rent on time every time and until the past three months when you ran into some unexpected health issues, have had an exemplary work record. You don’t fool around with customers…except that once, and you don’t appear to do much dating. None of which is going to matter to my mother at all. The only thing she cares about is you are going to have her grandchild. That and someone else is going to be confirming the floral arrangements for her luncheon next week.”

When she just stared at him, he stared right back. “You’re the mother of my child. So yeah, I did a web search on you.”

“All that came up?” she asked quietly, her brows inching up in a way that had the corners of his mouth twitching.

“No. It didn’t. Now, stop putting yourself down. I don’t like it.”

The car pulled to a stop at the foot of the flared stone stairs leading to the front door.

Darcy shot a tentative look toward the house. “It’s not like that’s the way I see myself,” she said quietly. “But I just don’t know how someone who hasn’t even met me yet could see anything else. And I don’t want—If I’m living under the same roof—”

Jeff reached across the car and took her hand. “It won’t be.”

And the reason why, had just flung open the front door.

* * *

Darcy’s heart began to thump, as Mrs. Norton, decked out in formfitting yoga gear and a disheveled ponytail, jogged down the stairs with a beaming smile and wide wave.

“Older?” she asked Jeff incredulously, wondering whether his father should have served time for taking a child bride. The woman couldn’t be fifty.

Helping her out of the car, he answered, “She’s older than we are.”

“Jeffrey! Darling, it’s so good to see you,” Mrs. Norton said, opening her arms wide to pull her six-foot-something son into her diminutive embrace. Then just as quickly as she’d pulled him in, she pushed him back, redirecting her focus on Darcy. Eyes that were the same warm hazel as Jeff’s met hers as she held out a hand in welcome. “Darcy, thank God you’ve agreed to help me. This couldn’t be more ideal. I was absolutely desperate and now we have the perfect opportunity to get to know each other. Ooh, I want to throw my arms around you, but Jeff would probably dive between us to protect you from my overzealous embrace. He’s twitchy about you. If you haven’t figured it out already.”

Darcy shot a surprised look over at Jeff, standing there, hands hooked into his pockets, totally at ease in this bizarre situation.

“Mrs. Norton, thank you very much for opening up your home to me.” She wanted to stress she wouldn’t be staying long, but there was something in the open, welcoming smile on her face that made Darcy feel to do so would somehow be an insult.

“Oh, please, not Mrs. Norton. It’s Gail. Believe me, five years from now when you’re hearing Mrs. Norton every time one of this little guy’s friends looks up at you, you’ll know what I mean.”

Darcy blanched at the reference to nuptials, but it was Jeff who jumped in to make the clarification. “Not Mrs. Norton, Mom. Ms. Penn.”

Gail’s cheeks went pink and her eyes squinched shut, but then she just laughed. “Oh, hell.”

With a deep breath she waved her hand about dismissively. “I know. It’s just the idea of having a little grandbaby— And as to Ms. Penn?” She shook her head conspiratorially. “In five years. Not a chance.”

“Mom.” This time Jeff’s voice was more serious. “Don’t—”

“Don’t worry, darling I won’t be pushing anyone in front of her until I’ve gotten to know her better. Why waste time with bad matches. Okay, come along now, kids. We’ll get Darcy settled and then after a bit of rest, give her the tour.”

“Honestly, Mrs. Nor—”

The arch look sailing over Jeff’s mother’s shoulder had her in place in a beat.

“Gail. You don’t need to go to any trouble for me.”

“Thank you, dear. But it’s no trouble at all. Honestly, I couldn’t be happier to have you here and just want you settled and comfortable as soon as possible.”

“All right. Then thank you.”

Gail nodded, her brisk steps taking her up the wide curving stairs to the still open front door. “I’m putting her in Connor’s old room.”

Darcy coughed, her eyes going wide as she looked over at Jeff. “Wow, Connor had a room to himself, huh.”

Jeff was walking beside her, the strap of one bag slung across his chest. The handles from the other duffel hanging from his hand. “He spent a lot of time here when we had breaks from school.” He answered distractedly, looking a bit tense all of the sudden. Was he having second thoughts about her being here? Or more likely he simply didn’t remember the line he’d used to pick her up. The joke about his ego named Connor. But in truth, it was probably better there not be some collection of inside jokes between them.

The connection she felt to this man was dangerous enough without the added intimacy.

CHAPTER NINE

UP IN CONNOR’S old room, a space Jeff knew nearly as well as his own, he looked around wondering at what Darcy would make of it. The walls were still sage-green. The trim the same white that ran through the rest of the house. But somehow every bit of lingering high school boy and college man had been stripped from the space within the past day. The shelves emptied of all but a few items—and those last few he was certain remained just to ensure Darcy didn’t walk into a space that felt barren and stark.

A gesture he appreciated after seeing how few belongings she actually owned.

He set the bags on the bed Darcy would be sleeping in. He’d never paid much attention before, but now, couldn’t help but notice it was king-size. Huge for a single woman sleeping alone.

Which despite his mother’s apparent desire to marry her off to someone—Darcy would be.

Mrs. Norton.

Not going to happen. Slip of the tongue or Freudian slip… His mother had been completely off base with that.

Darcy Norton.

He didn’t know her middle name.

He blinked. What the hell was he thinking? He didn’t need her middle name. Didn’t want to know it.

Because even if there was some lingering bit of attraction between them, it wasn’t the stuff Mrs. Nortons were made of.

Yeah, she was beautiful, and fun, and having his baby. But Darcy was one giant no trespassing sign. And not in some sexual sense—but, damn, he needed his head to stop going there, too.

She was just so unavailable. Different than he’d believed that first night.

“It’s bigger than my apartment.”

He turned to where Darcy stood in the doorway, her arms wrapped across her belly signaling her stomach wasn’t doing well, but hadn’t reached critical levels yet.

“And it comes furnished, too. You’ll have this room. The bathroom connects through there and you’ve got a sitting room with desk and computer on the other side.”

“Okay, so it’s a lot bigger than my apartment.”

“Think you’ll feel okay staying here?” It was such a strange question to ask, after he’d all but railroaded her into making the concession, swearing up and down she’d be comfortable.

Only now that she was precisely where he’d wanted to get her—the idea of actually leaving her here unsettled him in a way he couldn’t reconcile.

Darcy looked around. Crossed to the window and peered out over a view of the pool and tennis court. “Your mom is kind of a firecracker.”

“Yeah, she is. Make you uncomfortable?”

“No. It’s nice. She’s so…excited and welcoming. And it’s a relief, but still sort of a surprise.”

“Not what you were expecting.” He knew, from those last moments in the car.

Darcy turned to him, a tentative smile on her lips. He could see how overwhelmed she was. And tired. And then before he could stop to think about whether it was a good idea or not, he’d crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. It didn’t matter that they were strangers with this intimate past between them and uncertain future ahead. She was alone and he was there, and there wasn’t anyone else on hand to give her the hug she needed.

For an instant she stiffened within his hold, and he thought she might pull away. But then she simply gave herself over to it. Bowing her head into his chest with her arms tucked up between them at either side, she let him hold her.

“It’s going to be fine, Darcy. Give it a little time and all this is going to work out.”

She nodded and took one deep breath after another, melting further into him with each pass of his hand over her back.

“I know,” she whispered. “I’m just not used to being out of control.”

Jeff let out a quiet laugh. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not much of a fan of it myself.”

“I’ve been taking care of myself since I was sixteen. I don’t like…help. I don’t like…needing things from other people. It makes me feel…trapped.”

Her voice broke the smallest extent on that last word, twisting something deep in his chest.

Leaning back just far enough to catch the side of her face and bring it up so she was looking into his eyes, he promised, “Don’t. Don’t feel that way about this. About being here. About anything.”

Their eyes were locked. Hers so vulnerable as she looked up at him, it made him ache to make it better. Made him ache to give her back all the things he’d seen in those eyes before. Steel, mirth, resolve, confidence…heat.

Hell.

Scratch that last. He didn’t want to think about what she’d looked like when it was heat filling her eyes. Desire. Need.

Not when she was standing within the circle of his arms as he told her everything was going to be fine. When she needed reassurance. Not the muscle memory of some residual attraction she wouldn’t be able to ignore springing to life between them.

But, she was so soft and warm and lush and…all the things he didn’t want to notice. Shouldn’t remember about the last time he felt her against his body, beneath his fingertips.

Setting her back a step, he walked to the door, not meeting her eyes as he spoke over his shoulder. “Why don’t you take a few minutes and then meet us downstairs? Get that tour underway.”

* * *

It wasn’t as though Darcy had thought Jeff would be moving in, too. She’d known he was simply dropping her off and then returning to the life he led in the city. They weren’t together. They weren’t a team. They weren’t going to get through all this together.

They were two people, who were going to be sharing a child.

She understood it and had every intention of adhering to those mutually agreed upon limits.

It was just that in a day filled with so much uncertainty and upheaval, he’d made her feel safe. A little less alone.

And for a few minutes, she’d clung to that.

But now, Jeff was leaning in to kiss his mother’s cheek. He’d already made certain Darcy had a list of two dozen phone numbers to use in case of emergency. And after a moment’s hesitation when he didn’t seem sure of whether to hug her or pat her arm, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, too. And then he left.

And Darcy stood staring at the closed door he’d walked out of, next to a woman she didn’t know, in a house she didn’t belong in.

Gail rested a hand at her elbow, offering a sympathetic look. “Are you all right with Jeffery gone?”

“I’ll be fine. Honestly.” It was so difficult to know what to say, circumstances being what they were. But meeting Gail’s eyes she got the sense Jeff’s mother was someone who appreciated the truth. “We hardly know each other.”

Gail looked toward the door. “Give it time. You’ll get to know each other, and figure out how exactly you fit into each other’s lives.”

The way the older woman said it, Darcy wondered if she was holding out hope for a more traditional outcome for their relationship.

“Until then, you can take my totally unbiased opinion as gospel. Jeffrey is a wonderful man, who is going to make as wonderful a father as his was to him. And in case you haven’t figured it out already, he’ll do just about anything to make sure his child has a stable, happy home. You’ll have everything you need. He’ll see to it. And so will I. So…” She leaned in with a conspiratorial wink that was so very Jeff, Darcy almost did a double take. “Would it help even the playing field a bit if I started telling you stories about all the times Jeffery lost his lunch as a boy?”

* * *

“In what universe are we living that you, a guy who makes me look like a pauper, would move your pregnant non-girlfriend into your parents’ spare room? You could buy the building next door to your office tomorrow. With cash. What the hell, man?”

Jeff gripped the wheel with fingers long gone white at the knuckles. “Give me a break, Connor. She’s staying in your old room, so it’s not like we’re talking about some hole down in the basement with a moldy futon. She’s got the entire west wing of the house to herself. She doesn’t even have to use the same door.”

“Glad to hear you aren’t trying to smuggle her in and out through the basement window, but seriously, your mom?”

Connor chuckled from across the miles, his voice going muffled as he invariably filled in his new wife, Megan, on the details. Then he said, “Megan wants to know if your mom is making her pizza puffs on demand.”

“Ha-ha. Megan’s a laugh a minute.”

“Man, I know it. She’s great.” Then quieter, as though there were a hand almost covering the phone, Connor said, “Come here, sweetheart… Great, see you in a few hours, gorgeous.”

When Connor’s attention was returned to the call, Jeff let out a tight breath. “It was the first thing I thought of. She wasn’t going to budge on the job thing. So I found her a job.”

“Working for your mom? And Darcy’s okay with it?”

“Not really. But for now, she’s agreed. So it’s a start.”

“So what happens once she realizes Gail doesn’t actually need any help with anything, from anyone—that if she wanted, she could probably add your job and mine to her mix of charitable foundations without breaking a sweat.”

Jeff stared out the windshield, toward a sea of congested taillights. “I’m hoping Mom can keep her highly efficient tendencies under wraps for at least a couple of months. Long enough to give Darcy a chance to get some rest and me a chance to come up with my next game plan.”

CHAPTER TEN

DARCY WOKE TO the unfamiliar and yet totally identifiable sound of lawn mowers from beyond her window. The sun shone in through the shades she’d neglected to close the night before, casting the room in a warm, golden glow she might have lingered in if not for her standing appointment with morning sickness.

Once taken care of, she showered, and then slipped into a pair of yoga pants and a thin, long sleeve T-shirt before heading downstairs. Gail had been gone when she woke up yesterday and only stopped in for a few minutes around late afternoon before disappearing through most of the evening, which had given Darcy the bulk of the day to familiarize herself with the house. She’d met the two housekeepers, Nancy and Viv, who had been incredibly warm and welcoming, right up to the minute she’d asked if she might help them out with anything. At which point those warm smiles had turned stern and she’d been pointed toward the couch and handed a glass of juice. Apparently, Jeff had spoken with them.

The break had been nice, but so much free time left her at loose ends, and she was looking forward to sitting down with Gail and finding out what her temporary position would entail and how quickly she could get her hands into something. Anything.

Stepping into the kitchen she found Gail standing at the farmhouse-style table a china cup in one hand, a tablet in the other. Stacks of folders spread out in front of her.

She looked up at Darcy’s entrance and smiled her son’s genuine smile. “Wonderful, you’re up! Sleep okay?”

“I did, thank you. How about yourself?”

Gail nodded, quickly, then flapped her hand at the air as if to brush aside the morning pleasantries. “I’d like us to be friends, Darcy. Real friends.”

“That would be nice,” she answered.

“It would. So in the interest of friendship, I suggest we make a pact to be honest with each other. Truthful. Up-front. So we always know where we stand.”

Nervous tension began to creep through her, because honesty had pretty much been the plan from the start. But maybe Gail wasn’t as okay with having her here as she’d sounded when Jeff was around. “All right.”

“Great! So I’ll start. Now honestly, do you want to dive right into your made-up, fake job this morning or—” she clutched her hands in front of her, like she was making a plea “—go shopping for baby clothes.”

* * *

Six hours later, Darcy was on the phone with the caterer, confirming Tuesday’s menu modification when Gail walked into the small office Darcy had made of her sitting room. Setting three binders on the edge of the small desk, she dropped into the chair on the opposite side. When Darcy wrapped up the call, Gail scanned the desk.

“For a fake job, we’ve actually scrounged up quite a bit to keep you busy.”

Darcy let out a short laugh. There’d been a candid discussion between them earlier about the motivation behind this manufactured position. Gail had asked Darcy to put a pin in her frustration toward Jeff and consider the opportunity before her. If Darcy was serious about continuing to work—and she was—this was an opportunity to expand her skill set and open up avenues in the employment market that wouldn’t have otherwise been available.

It was an offer Darcy realized she would be crazy not to take. And within the hour she’d been on the job with Gail only huffing the smallest amount over the decision not to go baby clothes shopping.

Darcy reached for the top binder, only to have her fingers swatted away.

“Part-time, fake job. You agreed to take it easy for a few weeks, so this one will have to wait. For now, Jeff’s got a friend of his—a doctor—stopping over in about an hour to check on you. Which leaves you some time for a phone call if you were planning to make one.”

* * *

Jeff stared down at the phone in his hand, not sure what shocked him most. That his mother—his supposed number one fan and most staunch supporter—had completely, unequivocally thrown him under the bus in favor of his pregnant non-girlfriend. Or that Darcy had thanked him for what he’d done.

Definitely the latter.

And she’d sounded genuine. Excited even. Enough so the piece of her mind she’d given him about scheduling a doctor’s appointment without consulting her first hardly stung at all. And in truth, he’d meant to call her about it, but then had ended up speaking to his mother and passing the message along, which had probably sounded more like a dictate, than the on condition she didn’t object, he’d assumed would be implied.

She was going to stay with his mom.

She was going to take it easy with the work thing.

And for the first time since he’d found out she was pregnant, Jeff breathed an almost easy breath.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“IF YOU DON’T give me that file,” Darcy warned, leaning over her small desk toward the pilfering grandmother-in-the-making/woman-of-steel who happened to be Jeff’s mother, “I’m—I’m—I’m not going baby clothes shopping with you this weekend.”

Gail looked down at the manila folder she’d swiped from Darcy’s hold and then looked back. “You said fifteen more minutes. That was over an hour ago.”

She had. But after two weeks of taking it easy, Darcy’s energy was back up. She’d regained a few pounds. And she’d found a satisfaction and meaning in the work she was doing she’d never had before. So on days like today, when the hormones ran rampant and her mood was a bit off, the work was her best distraction. And she didn’t want to give it up. Besides, there was a benefit coming up to raise funds for a series of summer programs for at-risk youth. She wasn’t ready to call it a day. Which meant she’d have to play hardball with Gail. “That little boutique we drove by Sunday…with the Frog Prince–themed window… I know you know the one. I know you want to go.”

Gail got a sort of fevered look in her eyes. Baby clothes were this Superwoman’s Kryptonite, and while Darcy mostly didn’t like to exploit the weakness…she knew Gail would respect her for it in the end.

The file flopped back onto her desk.

“Fine. You win. But I was hoping to talk you into joining me for dinner with the girls tonight.”

The invitation wasn’t totally unexpected. Gail had offered to include her in her plans more than a handful of times over the past few weeks, but Darcy had yet to take her up on it. And when she made her excuse tonight, Gail didn’t push but left with her usual, friendly “next time, then.”

By the time Darcy found a good stopping place and turned off her desk lamp, the house was empty, the sky beyond the window glass already dark. Picking at a dinner her stomach wasn’t interested in, she finished her book on pregnancy and motherhood. She watched five minutes worth of drivel on TV before turning it off in an impatient huff and setting out to walk the halls of the house, again.

When she reached the second floor, she turned toward her rooms but stopped instead at the first door on the left. Jeff’s room. Normally she kept walking but tonight, she was at a loose end. As always, the door was open. And as always she experienced a tug of curiosity about the space within, and what it might tell her about the man who’d called it his.

Scanning the room, her eyes snared on the built-in shelves behind a desk. The rows of trophies and medals: baseball, tennis, swimming, football, track. The evidence of Jeff’s achievements. It made her smile to think what he must have been like as a kid.

Gail had told her he’d been into mischief almost as much as he’d been out of it, but never in a way that was hurtful or destructive. She’d called him a rule bender. A perpetual charmer.

Traits apparently carried over into adulthood.

And if ever there was a man who made a bit of trouble look like fun, it was Jeff.

Pushing back from the doorframe she returned to her room. But her ping-ponging thoughts wouldn’t still. Would she have a little boy or a girl? Was Jeff hoping for one over the other? What would labor feel like? Would Jeff be there? Would he stay cool? Hold her hand? Tell her not to be scared?

One question after another, and they kept circling back to Jeff.

How often would she see him? What would he do if they disagreed?

What kind of father would he be? She thought about the trophies and ribbons, and how nothing short of first place earned a spot on his wall of fame. Would he be as successful in parenting as he was in what appeared to be every other area of his life? Would he go it alone or hire in help? Marry in help?

Not the woman he’d been dating when she first came to him. Gail had mentioned they’d broken the relationship off already. But a man like Jeff—she closed her eyes trying to stop her train of thought, but already her mind had found the deep rumble of his laugh, the heavy cut of his jaw and the feel of his untamed hair between her fingers.

The weight of his body over hers.

The heat of his kiss.

Her eyes popped open. Because closed, well, obviously that wasn’t helping. And as tempting as it was to recall their night together in exacting, vivid detail—it was a mistake. When she thought about Jeff now, it should be in the context of his role as co-parent to their child. Nothing else.

Which was fine. She was realistic enough to understand the enormity of the gulf between their worlds. She was okay with it.

Like she’d be okay when Jeff found the next woman to get serious about. Mostly. Though even as she thought it, some little piece of her rejected the idea of him with another woman. Not because she wanted him for herself.

No.

Just because…well…well…an irritated growl left her throat. It didn’t matter why and she didn’t need to justify anything.

What was wrong with her today?

Turning to happier thoughts, she tried to imagine Jeff’s youth, wondering whether he would describe himself the same way his mother had? What he thought life would be like for their child—if he’d want to do things the way his parents had done with him, or if he’d like to see things happen differently for his own son or daughter.

She glanced at the phone and, experiencing a pull even greater than the one outside Jeff’s room, wondered if they talked, if he’d make her laugh again, the way no one else seemed capable of doing.

* * *

Jeff met Charlie’s knowing eyes across the table where the two of them had set up for the call in his office. It was time for a break.

“Why don’t we take thirty so everyone can grab a bite,” Jeff suggested, pushing back from the table himself. “And we’ll pick up here when we get back.”

Charlie went to grab a few files from his desk and Jeff was left in the quiet of his office alone. Shoulder propped at his favorite window, he was scrolling through his messages, rereading the one line updates from his mom when the little black-and-white, fifteen-week ultrasound image popped up on his screen signaling a call from the very woman all his extra hours at work were supposed to keep him from thinking about—but weren’t.

“Hi, Jeff. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all. What’s going on?” He closed his eyes. “Everything okay with the baby?”

His baby. Their baby.

The little troublemaker wreaking havoc on his mother’s system and scaring the living hell out Jeff with the fragility of his existence alone.

“Oh, yes. Sorry, I should probably text before I call so you know not to worry,” she said, the words sounding almost amused. Playful.

He liked it, and found himself relaxing.

“What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if maybe you had time to talk awhile.”

He scanned the conference table. “I’m heading back into a call here in the next few minutes.”

“Oh, of course, it definitely doesn’t need to be now. You know, just sometime. I could come by your office. Or meet you after work—you’re so busy, the evening would probably be better. But maybe not, because it’s late and you’re still working and I don’t want to—you know what? It doesn’t matter. It’s not hugely important or anything—”

“Darcy,” he cut her off, her fluster in trying not to inconvenience him somehow pushing a smile to his mouth. “Of course I’ll make time. What is it you wanted to talk about?”

A sigh filtered through the line, and the sultry quality of it curled around his senses, rubbing soft against the places he’d been trying to ignore.

“I was just thinking this little guy is going to have a very different experience growing up than I did. And, I don’t know,” she continued softly. “I was hoping maybe you’d tell me more about what it was like for you. What you’d like it to be like for him.”

Right. More information exchange, because that was the only reason she’d be calling. The only reason he wanted her to call. They’d agreed and for good reason. So yeah.

“How about this,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll get in touch tomorrow to set up a block of time when we can talk. Also if there’s anything in particular you’ve got questions about or have on your mind, you can email me and I’ll try to get a response back to you by the next morning. Okay?”

“Um. Sure. Sounds great, Jeff,” she answered simply, but something had changed in her tone. There was no emotional inflection evident whatsoever. “Have a good night.”

“You, too.” He stared at the phone, suddenly on alert. Because he’d heard that total absence of anything in her voice before. In Vegas. When her impassive facade was hiding something she didn’t want seen.

Charlie walked back into the office and within a few keystrokes had a modified timeline up on the big screen. He glanced at Jeff. “Want to go over this before we pick up?”

* * *

Yellow. Box mix. Cake.

The mouthwatering revelation had struck Darcy like a lightning bolt shortly after talking to Jeff.

There’d been a heaviness in her chest after their call because, inexplicably, she’d gotten it in her head that talking to him might snap her out of this strange funk. But she didn’t feel any better. If anything she’d hung up feeling more adrift than she had before.

But what did she really expect. While Jeff definitely made her health and well-being a priority, the guy was busy. He had a life. Commitments to his corporation, his friends and whatever it was he did to fill his time when he wasn’t checking in to make sure her blood pressure was where it should be.

So she’d hung up and sat at the side of her bed, wishing she could muster some enthusiasm for anything. Hating the way she’d lost her appetite completely and how nothing sounded good to her. It had been a full-on pity party the likes of which she never indulged. And then, in a flash, inspiration.

Cake.

Followed by something even more shocking still.

Hunger… Craving.

Next thing, she’d been rifling through the pantry, nearly bursting into tears at the discovery of one single cardboard box in the very back, and the tub of fudge frosting beside it.

Some forty minutes later she was staring down two eight-inch rounds, fresh from the oven, mentally calculating how long before they’d be cool enough to frost and eat. Too long.

“God,” she half moaned, recognizing the near breathless desperation in her own voice. “I want you so bad.”

The sound of a throat clearing behind her had her jumping back, one hand moving instinctively toward her belly, the other going to her chest.

“Jeff,” she gasped at seeing him in the doorway, tie askew, suit jacket flipped over one arm, shirt a perfect cut for his broad shoulders, looking rugged and powerful and thoroughly entertained with an amused smile tilting his lips. “I thought you had a call. What are you doing here?”

Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he nodded toward the counter. “Looking for some cake?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

SURROUNDED BY THE familiar dark wood cabinetry, heated stone floors and wide granite counters of the kitchen he’d spent a significant part of his youth hanging out in—it was with immense satisfaction that Jeff watched Darcy standing at the counter where she frosted the now-cooled cakes, her head tipped back as warm, full-bodied laughter bubbled past her lips.

“Traitor?” She teased, catching her breath. “She’s your mother. And you were the one who finagled me into staying here and working with her. You had to know we’d find some middle ground.”

“She sold out over a trip to some baby boutique? Come on.”

He was crying foul, but seeing Darcy in person, his anxiety about her overdoing it was alleviated. Mostly anyway. And for all the noise he was making, he knew his mom wouldn’t have skipped out for the night if she’d had even a moment’s doubt about how Darcy was doing.

Darcy slid a fat slice of yellow cake layered with some kind of thick fudgy frosting onto a waiting plate.

Man, his mouth watered and he went to the counter, catching himself an instant before he leaned in to drop a kiss at her neck. Which was crazy, because it wasn’t like this sort of domesticity was a habit. But seeing her there, laughing, chatting with him, looking so comfortable in her bare feet—it was like the scene flipped a switch in him and he’d forgotten exactly what they were doing and how it was between them.

Which was, not like that.

He slanted another look at her neck. Bare and long, and hell, with a tiny speck of cake batter along the side to match the few decorating her thin cotton hoodie.

She looked sweet. Tasty.

Because she was. He remembered running his tongue from her collarbone up behind her ear, and how the silky length of her hair had felt in his fingers as he gathered it out of his way.

“You okay?” Darcy asked, a wary look in her eyes.

Except for the way his entire body had gone online in the span of a few seconds, yeah, perfect. “Hungry. For cake.”

Satisfied, she smiled and served him a slice. “Then here you go.”

A smaller slice. Significantly.

“Really?” he asked with an arched brow.

Darcy flashed him a sassy grin and patted her flat stomach. “Eating for two. And since this is the only thing I’ve actually wanted in as long as I can remember.” She looked down at her slice with a covetous intent and put on a growling brogue as she muttered, “Get in my belly.”

Jeff blinked, not believing he’d just heard her quote an Austin Powers movie. He let out a hard laugh as she enthusiastically swept up her plate and went to the table, his little mama-in-the-making diving in without so much as a look his way.

Her lips closed around the fork and she gave up one of those unabashed moans that had his body reacting in a way where the best course of action seemed turning his back to her as he went to the fridge. “Think your belly’s up for a glass of milk?”

Darcy was still sucking the frosting off her fork when he turned to look at her. Rather than just finish the bite, she continued to savor the cake and frosting, turning her fork upside down to suck the tines as she absently nodded at him.

He swallowed, gave himself a firm mental shake and then poured a couple of glasses.

They were drinking milk. And milk and hard-ons didn’t go.

But even without the dairy, he shouldn’t be thinking about Darcy like that. Because he wasn’t ever going to be with Darcy that way again. Even if his head seemed to be making frequent sojourns to a time when he had, he had enough control to keep his body from following.

The pressure behind his fly told him he was lying to himself, but he threw a mental finger in that southern direction.

There was too much on the line with a child between them to risk emotions gone awry, which meant keeping it platonic.

He couldn’t afford for things to end up the way they had with Margo. After all the years of friendship between them, in the end they could barely stand to be in the same room, let alone carry on a civilized conversation.

So resisting a few wayward urges shouldn’t be too difficult considering it wasn’t love they were fighting. Darcy was just so damned sexy, was all.

Yeah, their initial connection had been beyond the physical. But the part that was physical? He could still feel the embers from that blaze where they sizzled and burned in the back of his mind. Eventually though, he’d get past them.

Pulling it together, he slid into the chair across from hers. “So it’s going well with my mom?”

Seeing Darcy was still working the damned fork, he shifted in his seat, adding tightly, “No rush to answer. Whenever you’re finished molesting that fork with your tongue. By all means, take your time.”

Her eyes widened, a satisfying rush of red tingeing her cheeks. It looked good on her.

Sliding the fork from between her lips in a way that didn’t do him any favors, she set the utensil at the side of her plate and neatly folded her arms in front of her.

“Your mom is wonderful. I think she’s one of the most generous people I’ve ever met.”

Jeff smiled. “Did she try to buy you the house across the street—which incidentally is on the market if you like it. Smaller than this one but for the two of you—”

“No,” she said waving him off with an annoyed glance. “She’s very thoughtful. And observant. When I said generous, I meant with her time and her thoughts and feelings.”

“She is, isn’t she? I hoped she wouldn’t overwhelm you. I know you like to be on your own.”

Darcy shook her head, picking up the fork again and scraping at frosting left on her plate. Accumulating the smallest glob before bringing it to her mouth.

“We’ve struck a pretty good balance. We go for a walk each morning, sometimes just around the yard if my stomach is sketchy. We talk about interests and goals. And if ever I’m feeling embarrassed or something from having to rush away for my stomach, she always has some fantastic story about you to make me feel better.”

Jeff’s brow shot up, his ego taking a stretch and pulling him forward to hear more. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, like the time you got into the caterer’s stash of dessert toppers and then got sick in the pool.”

He slumped back. “No.”

Not exactly the tales of heroism and maternal adoration he’d been banking on.

Darcy pointed the freshly cleaned tines at him. “Yeah. Her thinking is, it’s only fair you share in the humiliation once in a while, too.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but how often are you still getting sick?”

There was a wicked glint in Darcy’s eyes as she answered. “Often.”

Jeff reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Then I can say with the utmost sincerity, I hope you get past this soon.”

She looked him up and down and then closed her eyes, laughing. “I’ll bet you do.”

* * *

She was so glad he’d come. Glad to the point where there was no choice but to acknowledge Jeff’s little baby had been working her over good with the hormones.

Twice she’d felt the inexplicable push of tears at the back of her eyes. The first, when she realized halfway through her third slice of cake she was too full to eat any more, and the second when, at her request, Jeff had pulled his favorite trophy down and told her he had absolutely no idea why he favored it, and then after a shrug, stuck it back on the shelf.

Yes, the hormones were having their way with her for sure. Which was reassuring in that it gave her something to blame for other inexplicable reactions. Like every time she got within breathing distance of Jeff. All it took was the barest hint of his clean masculine scent and everything within her started to whir. He smelled better than box mix, but thankfully she’d exercised more restraint with the man than she had with the butter recipe.

As a result they’d been talking comfortably on the back terrace by the pool for more than an hour, Jeff answering whatever questions he could for her. Occasionally asking one himself—though in truth, Darcy didn’t have very much to share about her own youth. If he asked whether she’d participated in some traditional all-American kind of activity, the answer was typically no. The explanation always the same. They hadn’t had the money for team sports, camps or after school programs. Of course there had been more to it, but Jeff didn’t need to know about those details. All that mattered was their child’s life would be more like his than hers. This baby would be happy, loved and wanted.

They’d hit on the topic of school a few moments ago, and now Jeff leaned back in the terrace chair that looked more like it belonged in a showroom than outside by the pool. His long legs were extended out in front of him, his ankles crossed, hands folded behind his head as he stared up into the night sky.

“I don’t know, Darcy. The boarding school thing was something both my parents agreed on. It’s an experience I value. But with you barely halfway through the pregnancy, I don’t really know whether it’s something I’d want for him or her or not. To me this little guy’s personality, drive and temperament will play pretty heavily into my position.” His gaze locked with hers. “But whatever we decide, we’ll decide together.”

It had been the unofficial theme of their discussion for the night. That they were in this together. Not in a relationship way, but as far as working at keeping communication between them strong.

She nodded, letting him see the gratitude and appreciation in her eyes. “I believe you.”

A breeze ruffled the leaves in the trees around the grounds and then caught a few loose strands of Darcy’s hair, blowing them across her face. Tucking them behind her ear, she glanced up to find Jeff watching her with a look she couldn’t read.

Suddenly self-conscious, she asked, “What?”

He waved her off.

“Nothing. It’s late is all.” He braced his hands on the armrests of his chair and pushed to stand. “You ought to get some rest and I’ve got to drive back.”

Taking her hand, he helped her to her feet.

They walked back toward the house and, reaching the door, Jeff stopped. “I’ll say good night here. Sleep in tomorrow, will you?”

At Darcy’s rolled eyes, he flashed her one of those devastating grins that ought to require a special license the way he wielded it. “Come on, so I don’t worry about you.”

No question, this guy knew how to get what he wanted. “I’ll do my best.”

Satisfied, he leaned in—probably to drop a kiss on her cheek—only as he neared, the rich masculine scent that had been playing with her senses and control all night caught her off guard. Her eyes closed and her head turned toward him as she drew a deep breath through her nose.

Whoa—what the heck was she doing?

Her eyes popped wide, and there was Jeff, inches away, a darkening scowl underscoring his confusion.

Immediately, she took a step away to put more distance between them, but caught a heel on the edge of the walk.

Jeff’s hand was there in an instant, guiding her back the way she’d come. Then closer. Until she was looking up into his face, their bodies only a breath away from contact.

This close there was no getting away from how good he smelled. Her heart was pounding, her breath coming too fast.

“Darcy?”

She shook her head. Trying to figure out exactly what to say when the truth—that she’d lost control and he’d, yes, just caught her going in for a whiff of him or whatever the cheap-feel equivalent would be for smelling someone up. This was so low.

“Honey?” His hold tightened as concern put an urgent edge to his voice. “Are you okay?”

She blinked. Okay? And then realization…she had an out here. Only her conscience pricked at the idea of passing off blame on her baby for her moment of weakness.

No, on second thought, she could definitely live with herself.

Raising a hand to her temple, she offered a weak shrug. “I think maybe I’m a little more worn-out than I realized. A little light-headed is all.”

The muscles of Jeff’s throat worked up and down… and then before she realized what was happening, the man had her scooped into his arms.

“Jeff!” she squeaked, gripping his shirt as he shouldered his way in through the terrace door.

“I’ll get you into bed and call Grant to come over.”

“Jeff, no,” she started and he stopped midstride to look down at her.

“Is it bad?” But before she could answer his attention seemed to have shifted inward and then he turned around, ready to carry her back out the door they’d just come through. “We’ll go straight to the hospital.”

Oh, hell.

“Jeff, no. Stop a second. Jeff. Jeff.” She squirmed in his arms, trying to get a leg down, but the man wasn’t having any of it, at least until she grabbed his collar in her fist and gave it a solid shake, demanding, “Set me down this minute, damn it.”

And then her feet were on the ground but he was still holding her far too close for comfort, especially because it had become painfully clear, she was going to have to own up to her crimes, or take a ride to the E.R.

“Darcy, if something’s wrong—”

“Listen.” She squared her shoulders, and dug up a bit of the no-nonsense steel she used to find so readily on hand. “I lied.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“YOU WHAT?” JEFF’S chin pulled back, his brows crashing down. “Are you telling me—all night? Has this been going on, all night, with the— Damn it, Darcy, this is serious. What the hell am I going to have to do to get you to take it easy, tie you to the bed?”

Her lips parted, but before the words she’d had ready mere seconds before could get out, her mind short-circuited and her eyes locked with his.

He raked a hand through the dark shock of his hair, and took a step back. “The chair.”

Then he took another step back and swore under his breath. “I’m not going to tie you up at all. But—”

This so wasn’t getting any better.

“Jeff. I lied about being worn-out and light-headed. I—I—” She took a deep breath and let the truth spill out in one huge gush. “You were standing so close—and this supersensitive smell thing that’s part of the pregnancy, kind of got the better of me for one minute before I realized what I was doing, and then I tried to back up, but I tripped, and you asked if I was okay, and I thought it would be better to avoid any misunderstandings about me wanting to smell you if I just lied and blamed the baby, which sounds really terrible when I say it, but now that I’m thinking about it, is pretty much the truth. Your baby is making me crazy. There.”

She sucked a great lungful of air and then covered her cheeks with her hands, knowing they had to be burning crimson.

Jeff’s jaw cocked to one side, his eyes focused down around his shoes. “So…you were…smelling me.”

She crossed her arms and stared at the ceiling. “You smell…really good. It was like with the cake.”

His head snapped up. “Like the cake? I mean, what you did to that cake.”

And there were about a million wrong ways he could interpret what she’d just said, and based on the rapidly morphing expressions crossing his face, he was hitting on each one of them.

“I don’t mean you smell like a cake. And I wasn’t saying…you made me—”

Something dark flashed in his eyes as he looked down at her mouth. “Hungry?”

She nodded, thinking the way the night was playing out, they were going to need a couple of neck braces. “Right. No. I mean, no, you didn’t make me hungry. I just don’t want you to think—”

“I don’t. And I’m not thinking about tying you to the bed, either.” Then he ran a wide hand over his mouth, and the eyes that met hers were filled with some twisted combination of apology, amusement and heat.

She gasped.

“Okay, okay,” he answered with a distinctly unapologetic laugh. “I am thinking about it a little. Now. But normally I don’t.” He closed his eyes and held up a hand. “Not the tying up part at least. Sometimes I think about the rest. I mean, we did it. And it was good. But it doesn’t mean I’m interested in an act two. It’s just a guy thing.”

Okay. She’d take him at his word. “So we’ll forget this then,” she offered, not meeting his eyes as she thrust out her hand.

“Deal,” he said with a firm shake before turning to go without a backward glance. “Now, lock the door and go to bed.”

* * *

So the forgetting thing hadn’t worked out. Which meant Jeff really should have stayed away from her. But that wasn’t happening, either.

Rolling past security with a wave, Jeff pulled up the winding drive and parked around the side of the house.

Initially he’d thought he wanted the distance between them. He’d thought keeping Darcy at arm’s length while knowing she was being looked after would be enough for him. More than enough.

But after the other night…hell. He’d been back three times in the two weeks since.

The first, because he wanted to make sure everything was still cool between them. The second, because everything was cool. And talking with Darcy was so damned easy. And the third…yeah, that’s where his moral compass began to spin like maybe he’d landed himself in the Bermuda Triangle. The third time, like tonight he’d gone back to have Darcy to himself.

In a strictly platonic, or at least nonphysical way.

He might not be able to control his thoughts hopping the express train to Dirty Town when Darcy did certain things. Like laugh or eat cake or succumb to one of those mysterious blushes he figured it was better not to ask about. But physically, well, he’d kept his hands to himself.

With a child between them, they couldn’t afford to risk souring their relationship because of some affair gone bad. Not when they needed to maintain positive relations…well, for as long as they both shall live. Forget the sanctity of marriage. They had to peaceably share a child. They were in it for the long haul. And really, if he looked past the whole out-of-wedlock, non-girlfriend part of the pregnancy, he was pretty damned lucky to have Darcy be the mother of his child. She made him laugh. Got what he was saying. Connected with him in a way that made him believe they could really make this thing—this parenting thing—work.

He liked her.

A lot.

Which was why he was driving out again tonight after spending the entire day and the majority of last night telling himself he wouldn’t—reminding himself not to think about the way Darcy’s hair sometimes spilled over one shoulder, leaving the bare length of her neck exposed on the other side. Or the soft curve of her mouth when she’d just finished laughing. Yeah, he’d figured some distance wouldn’t be the worst thing. Tried to talk himself into a solid week before he saw her again. But after barely four days he’d gotten in his car and driven out anyway.

Throwing the car in Park, he checked his phone for whatever messages had come through between leaving his office and pulling in the drive, wanting them out of the way before he was with Darcy.

Not with with her. Though, sure enough, now that he’d made the mental jump—

He blew out a harsh breath.

It would be fine. So long as Darcy did her part to keep it wholesome…well, he’d be good for his.

* * *

Half a dozen hangers clattered together as they hit the bed, their high-end couture spilling across the duvet in a spectrum of linens, crisp cottons and stunning raw silks.

“Gail, please, I can’t borrow your clothes.”

The older woman turned a cool smile on her. “If you’d let me take you shopping like I wanted, you wouldn’t need to. But now we’re being picked up in less than an hour, and you need a dress for dinner.”

Dinner with Grant Mitchel. The doctor Jeff had gone to school with and then bullied into checking on her a couple times a week.

When Gail had sprung the plans on her earlier that afternoon, Darcy had tried to put her off with the usual excuses. Only tonight Gail was having none of it. She’d looked her straight in the eye, smiling a sort of frightening smile and said, “You’re going.”

She’d seriously considered faking sick again to get out of it, because as nice a guy as Grant was, she knew the score. Gail was doing what she’d basically promised to do from the start— Trying to find her a nice husband. But after the way her last fib had blown up in her face she wasn’t about to lie again.

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