“I just couldn’t go any longer…Sunday night feels like years ago, and I can’t focus on work, I can’t sleep, I can’t…You’re in my head all the time…”

“Yeah,” Jani whispered. “You’re causing me that same problem.”

She couldn’t tell whether that pleased him or not. But she didn’t really care. She was too lost in looking at him, at that impressive collection of features and those penetrating iridescent sea-green eyes.

And there was something undeniable and irresistible happening at that moment between them that she just couldn’t fight.

So when he came, Jani went slowly forward, too.

About the Author

VICTORIA PADE is a USA TODAY bestselling author of numerous romance novels. She has two beautiful and talented daughters—Cori and Erin—and is a native of Colorado, where she lives and writes. A devoted chocolate lover, she’s in search of the perfect chocolate-chip-cookie recipe. For information about her latest and upcoming releases, and to find recipes for some of the decadent desserts her characters enjoy, log on to www.vikkipade. com.

A Baby in the Bargain

Victoria Pade

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Chapter One

Two hours and twenty-three minutes. That was how long January Camden had been waiting in her car on that Monday afternoon. Actually, it was Monday evening by then because it was now twenty-three minutes after six o’clock. And she decided that, for her, there was no appeal to being a stalker.

But stalking Gideon Thatcher at his place of business was what she’d been reduced to.

She closed the book she’d been reading when it was still light out, put it into her oversize hobo purse and turned on the engine of her sedan in order to run the heat for a few minutes.

It was the end of January—the month of her birth and the reason for her name. And although the daytime weather in Denver had been unseasonably warm and springlike, it was now after dark and getting much colder, forcing her to start her car and turn on the heater more frequently than when she’d first begun this quest today.

How late did this guy work, anyway?

She knew that Gideon Thatcher was in the office because she’d called and quizzed the receptionist before beginning this stakeout. The helpful older-sound-ing woman had said that he was expected to be there until five.

Jani had arrived in the heart of downtown Denver at four o’clock. She’d taken one turn around the block to make sure there wasn’t a rear exit to the redbrick turn-of-the-century mansion that had been remodeled into office space. Then she’d parked on the street two car lengths from the front of the building where she could see the entrance.

At that point she’d placed a second call to the Thatcher Group’s receptionist and again asked if Gideon Thatcher was in. “In, but not available” had been the answer. So she’d been waiting ever since to ambush the man. She’d seen pictures of him on his website and in a recent newspaper article, so she was certain that he hadn’t slipped by without her recognizing him.

Gideon Thatcher was the owner of the Thatcher Group, a private company that offered city planning services. The article had brought him to Jani’s grand-mother’s immediate attention, leading seventy-five-year-old Georgianna Camden to recruit Jani for her project of making amends to the victims of the Cam-den family’s past business misdeeds.

The Camdens owned Camden Incorporated, which encompassed a worldwide chain of superstores and many of the factories, warehouses, production facilities, ranches and farms that stocked them. An empire. Built by Jani’s great-grandfather, H. J. Camden.

The caring family man she’d loved.

Unfortunately, when it had come to business, H. J. Camden had been very different from the way he’d been at home. It had always been rumored that he was ruthless, that he had trampled and sacrificed numerous people in the building of the Camden empire. That he’d instilled this ruthlessness in his son, Hank, and even in his grandsons—Jani’s late father, Howard, and her uncle Mitchum.

The family had hoped the rumors weren’t true. It just didn’t sound like the kind, loving men whom Jani, her siblings and her cousins had experienced. But now, thanks to finding H.J.’s journals, the worst of the stories about his business dealings had been confirmed.

And so Georgianna had drafted H.J.’s ten descendants, sending them on fact-finding missions to learn how best to make some sort of compensation to his victims and their families. They were determined to do what they could to atone to some of the people most wronged in the past.

But Gideon Thatcher wasn’t making this easy for Jani. He’d denied her request for a meeting with him. He hadn’t answered her voice mails or emails or the letter she’d sent to him. She wasn’t sure what else to do but lie in wait for him and try to force him to talk to her. Essentially she was stalking him.

Jani sat up straight and arched away from the car seat to ease the kink out of her back, then slipped her arms into the navy blue wool peacoat she’d taken off when it was warmer. She buttoned it over her white turtleneck sweater and navy wool slacks.

“Come on, just quit for the day and go home,” she said, staring in the direction of the front door where other people had already emerged in end-of-the-work-day mode.

But nothing happened at her command. Bored and antsy, she took a lip gloss from her purse and craned up to her rearview mirror to apply it.

She’d always wished that her mouth wasn’t quite as wide as it was, and the rectangular mirror only seemed to accentuate that flaw. She puckered up a little just to make herself feel better. Then, when she’d applied the lip gloss, she took stock of the rest of what she could see in the small reflection.

No mascara smudges to muddy her blue eyes—the blue eyes that all ten of Georgianna’s grandchildren had and that had, over the years in school, come to be known as the Camden blue eyes.

Her high cheekbones still bore the pink blush she’d applied that morning when she’d left her house but she reached into her purse to retrieve her compact so she could blot her straight forehead, her nose and the chin that was a tiny bit on the pointy side.

Then she moved her head this way and that to get a glimpse of her hair in the sliver of mirror.

The thick, wavy, sable-colored locks seemed a little scraggly so she put the compact back in her purse and took out a brush.

Ordinarily she would have tilted her head upside down to brush her hair from the bottom up but since that wasn’t possible in the car, she ran the brush through from the top to the ends that fell six inches below her shoulders. Then she shook her head to get her hair to fall slightly forward.

It was something she’d been doing since the sixth grade when Larry Driskel had remarked that her nose was long and skinny. Her grandmother complained that her hair was in her face and always said that she was too pretty to hide behind it. But, since Larry Driskel’s comment, Jani just felt more confident with her hair acting as a bit of a curtain between her and the world.

And the thought of Gideon Thatcher definitely left her with the need to feel as confident as possible—it was unnerving to have to meet someone for the first time who potentially didn’t like the Camdens. And forcing that meeting didn’t help.

Of course it was possible that she was just misinterpreting why Gideon Thatcher had rejected her every overture. That’s what her more optimistic side told her. Maybe he was just a busy guy and didn’t have the time for her. Maybe what H.J. had done years and years ago to Gideon Thatcher’s family wasn’t any big deal to him….

Jani hoped that was the case but not even her optimistic side really believed it.

She took a deep breath and turned off her engine, thinking that she would wait until seven. If Gideon Thatcher didn’t come out by then, she’d go up to the office and just barge in.

But about the time she reached that decision, the large mahogany front door to the building opened and out stepped the man himself.

Jani recognized him from his photos but instantly realized that none of them had done him justice.

Which was why she uttered an involuntary “Wow…” and just sat there staring.

Gideon Thatcher was tall, commanding and broad-shouldered in a black overcoat and carrying a leather briefcase. Even from a distance she could see that he was remarkably good-looking.

The glow of the streetlights illuminated brown hair a couple of shades lighter than hers—a sandy, golden brown. He wore it short on the sides, slightly longer on top and carelessly combed. And although Jani was too far away to analyze each of his features, he was just so generally handsome that it was enough to make her jaw drop a little.

While she sat there stunned, he seemed to remember something, then turned and disappeared back into the building.

That was actually a lucky break, Jani thought. Be-cause she should have already made her approach but there she was, still sitting in her car, dumbstruck by the sight of him.

Gambling that he would come out again any minute, Jani took her keys from the ignition and grabbed her purse. She hurried out of her sedan, closed the door and went to the foot of the seven stone steps that rose to the former mansion’s front door.

Which was when that door opened again and out came Gideon Thatcher for the second time.

“Mr. Thatcher?” she said brightly.

The sound of her voice brought him to a stop. They’d never met so of course he didn’t recognize her; he merely looked at her quizzically. But after a split-second appraisal he smiled a reserved smile that kept his fairly full lips closed but turned up the corners of his mouth. His finely shaped eyebrows arched in interest. A flattering kind of interest that Jani hadn’t seen from a man in a while so it set off a little rush of satisfaction. Particularly when that interest was coming from someone this handsome.

He had a wide forehead; penetrating eyes she still couldn’t see the color of; a nose that was just long enough and just wide enough to suit his face; and a jawline that was well angled, chiseled and culminated in a squared-off chin that had a dashing off-center dent in it.

But she was gawking again…

“I’m Gideon Thatcher,” he confirmed as he came down the steps without touching the wrought-iron railing on either side of them.

Standing before her, he was at least eight inches taller than her five-foot-four height and now she could see that his eyes were green. An almost iridescent sea green, and gorgeous.

“I’m January Camden—”

Whoops. That was all it took to alter things.

Gideon Thatcher’s gorgeous green eyes narrowed at her, and his attractive face not only sobered, but went instantly hostile.

Jani pretended not to notice. “I’ve been trying to speak with you—”

“I don’t know why you’re here and I don’t care,” he announced unceremoniously in his deep voice. “I have nothing to say to any Camden, anytime, anywhere.”

Okay, not a warm reception.

What did you get me into, GiGi? she silently asked of her grandmother.

But within the Camden organization, Jani was in charge of public relations and marketing. Part of her job was to not get ruffled in the face of irate customers, vendors, clients and anyone else she needed to deal with. She had no idea why something about Gideon Thatcher was ruffling her a little on the inside but she hid it.

“If you could just give me a few minutes—”

“No matter what you Camdens have up your sleeve, I’m not interested. Regardless of how pretty a package they’ve sent to tempt me with.”

It took Jani a split second to realize that he was talking about her. Giving her a sort of compliment.

The problem was, in that instant of confusion, Gideon Thatcher stepped around her and was headed on his way.

“Please, if you could just give me a minute…” she beseeched, turning quickly to follow him.

Unfortunately when she did that, the strap on her purse caught on the end of the stair railing and broke. Her purse fell, spewing the contents across the sidewalk and even under the car parked at the curb, eliciting a loud gasp from Jani.

Gideon Thatcher paused and looked back.

As Jani began to gather her spilled belongings she could see enough peripherally to tell that he was aggravated. But rather than continuing on his way and leaving her to the mess, he muttered something under his breath and returned to help her pick things up.

While Jani snatched her wallet, cell phone and some other personal items, he went to the curb and leaned far over to reach what had slid under the car.

So You Want to Have a Baby—that was the name of the book she’d been reading while she waited for him. The title was in big black block letters that had jumped out at her at the bookstore. His gaze went to the cover, no doubt registering the title, as he handed the book to her.

Jani accepted the book, and quickly stuffed it into her purse. Then he gave her the compact and a tablet she’d been taking notes on as she’d read.

“Thank you,” she said, fighting the embarrassment of having him know what she was reading.

But she wasn’t about to address the topic with him and instead decided that the delay her spilled purse had caused was an opportunity she couldn’t let pass. It was as if fate had given her another chance to say what she’d come to say in the first place.

So she did. “We saw the article in the paper about all you’re doing to redevelop Lakeview and we want to fund a park in your great-grandfather’s name.”

A stillness seemed to come over Gideon Thatcher as he stared at her in disbelief. Then he shook his handsome head, and made a sort of huffing sound, practically scoffed at her.

“H. J. Camden used and betrayed my great-grandfather, and made it look as if my great-grandfather betrayed hundreds of people who trusted him,” Gideon Thatcher proclaimed. “He ruined the Thatcher name and turned Lakeview into something it never wanted to be. You have no idea what I had to do to convince Lakeview to give me—a Thatcher—this project. And now you not only think that I would let the Camdens anywhere near it, but you have the gall to believe that something as meager as a park would somehow make up for everything?”

“H.J. and your great-grandfather were good friends for fifteen years. I know things went bad but in some respects it wasn’t H.J.’s fault—he wanted to keep the promises he made—”

“I’m keeping the promises he made. H. J. Camden didn’t do anything for anyone but himself.”

Jani couldn’t deny that. And, as she stood there facing Gideon Thatcher’s scorn and contempt, she had to wonder if anything she offered would break through it.

But the family had vowed to explore all the ramifications of H.J.’s actions and in order to do that she had to get her foot in the door with this guy.

So she stood her ground, raised her chin proudly and said, “If not a park, then what?”

“You’re kidding, right? You think that anything—anything—can make up for what H. J. Camden did to my family?”

“I think that you see this only from your own perspective right now and that other factors went into what happened decades ago. But H.J.—my great-grandfather—regretted how things ended up. He regretted the loss of his friendship with your great-grandfather. He regretted that Lakeview was left a factory and warehouse town rather than the suburban dream he promised. And now that it seems as if you’re going to do so much of what should have been done then, we know that H.J. would want your great-grandfather honored by helping in some way.”

“Some token way—like a measly park?”

A park or whatever, Jani thought. She just needed to make enough of a connection with this man to get to know him, find out what actually happened to his family post-H.J. and learn if there were any other ways the Camdens could make up for the past.

“You were quoted in the newspaper saying something about a park in Lakeview,” she continued. “That’s the only reason we’re suggesting that. If there’s something else that we could do, something that you would rather have the Thatcher name on, we could certainly talk about it.”

“We could, could we?” he said sarcastically. “The high-and-mighty Camdens would allow that?”

She hadn’t said it that way and she certainly hadn’t meant it that way.

“Mr. Thatcher…” she said, hoping that calling him that would show her respect.

But that was as far as she got.

“Gideon,” he corrected as if she were insulting him in some way to use the formality, and Jani realized that she couldn’t win.

“Gideon,” she amended patiently. “We just want to do what we can to help Lakeview finally become what it should have, and we want to do it in the name of your great-grandfather.”

“It sure as hell wouldn’t be in the name of Camden.”

“Whatever we do can be absolutely anonymous. We aren’t looking for any kind of credit—”

“And you aren’t going to get any.”

Oh, he really did have a grudge against them. It seemed as if the mission to makes amends had been so much simpler for her brother Cade, who had ended up meeting the love of his life when he’d accomplished the first of these tasks a few months ago.

But rather than a repeat of that scenario, here Jani was, standing on a downtown Denver street being glared at by a man incited to fury by the mention of her family name. And she had something that was so much more important to her that she wanted to be putting her time and energy into. That she needed to be putting her time and energy into.

But she, like the rest of her siblings and cousins, was devoted to the grandmother who had raised them all. And since Georgianna had asked that they each accept whichever of these undertakings she assigned them, Jani was stuck. She had to make the best of this.

“We don’t want credit,” she assured him, “we only want to contribute in any way that you see fit to honor your great-grandfather.”

Gideon Thatcher went on staring at her, studying her as if he were trying to see through to the truth he seemed to think was behind what she was saying.

But there was nothing for him to see through because what Jani had said was the truth.

“Please. If you’d just think about it. It can be on your terms…” she told him in all honesty.

“My terms…” he echoed.

“Absolutely.”

His eyes narrowed even more at her, and she knew he wasn’t convinced.

But maybe something he saw in her helped a little because after what seemed like an interminable pause, he actually conceded. “I’ll think about it.”

Jani thought that was as good as it was going to get at that point, and she jumped on it.

She rummaged in the jumble of her purse until she found a pen and the small case that held her business cards. When she had them in hand, she wrote her cell phone number and her home phone number on the back of the card—wondering even as she did if he really needed her home phone number, yet inclined to give it to him anyway.

Not for any personal reason, she told herself. Only to make sure he knew that she meant everything she’d said and wanted to be accommodating. Whether he was a great-looking guy or not, she wouldn’t want to get involved with someone predisposed to despising her even if she had the time to spend on that. Which she didn’t.

When she finished jotting on the back of the card, she handed it to him. “These are all the numbers where I can be reached—day or night, whatever is convenient for you…”

Gideon Thatcher glanced at the card he held in a hand that was big and strong-looking—somehow one of the sexiest hands Jani had ever taken notice of. Al-though she wasn’t quite sure what constituted a sexy hand…

“January Camden,” he read out loud.

“Jani—you can call me Jani. My friends and family do.”

He raised those iridescent green eyes to her again and while the hostility was gone from his expression, what had replaced it was something that let her know that if he took her up on her offer he would make it a challenge for her.

Then he confirmed her hunch by saying, “You’re going to be sorry that you approached me today, January. If I decide to take your guilty-conscience money it’ll be for a lot more than a park. In the name of Frank-lin Thatcher and the community of Lakeview, I’ll make sure your bottom line feels some pain.”

Jani held her head high. “We’re serious about wanting to honor your great-grandfather in whatever way you think best. I hope you’ll be in touch soon.”

“Soon enough,” he said ominously.

Jani wasn’t sure how to respond to that. But since he was still standing there staring at her she thought that it was up to her to bring this meeting to a conclusion, so she said, “I’ll let you get on your way, then. I’m parked right over there…”

He glanced at the car she’d indicated then back at her, and it crossed her mind to offer a parting handshake the way she might at the end of a business meeting.

But the moment the thought flitted through her brain she realized that she liked the idea of making physical contact with him a little too much. That something in her was overly eager to experience the feel of that hand she’d found sexy.

It was weird. And she didn’t think it was wise to give in to it.

So she merely said a perfunctory, “Thanks for your time.”

“Uh-huh” was his only answer.

He continued to stand there and Jani realized that, in the same way he’d helped with her spilled purse, he might be begrudgingly offering her the courtesy of making sure she got safely to her car. So that was where she headed.

It was unsettling, though, to have his gaze remain on her while she rummaged a third time in her purse for her car keys, unlocked her door and got behind the wheel.

More unsettling still when she started the engine and cast a glance out the passenger window to see that Gideon Thatcher had gone on watching her even now that she was safely locked in.

Didn’t he trust her to keep her word enough to drive away? Because suspicion was clearly in his expression, as if he were wondering what exactly she was up to.

Don’t worry, I’m a good person…

And she wanted him to know that.

In fact it surprised her to discover how much she wanted him to know that.

Almost as much as she wished that the way he’d looked at her before he’d heard her name had been the way he’d kept looking at her.

But none of that was important, she told herself. She had a job to do for the family and that was all this was. And when it was over she would get on with her plans to have a baby and that would be that for Gideon Thatcher.

Yet as she finally pulled out into a break in traffic and saw him turn and head in the opposite direction down the sidewalk, she felt the tiniest twinge of regret that a man like that disliked her so much just because of who she was.

A man like that…

It would be nice if a man like that had an entirely different response to her.

Nice if there had been a man like that in her life a while ago, when she could have started and built a relationship.

Because, oh, she and a man like that could have made wonderful babies together…

Silly, silly thought…

And it only popped into her head, she told herself, because she had making babies on the brain these days.

Not because of Gideon Thatcher in particular.

Even though he was a man like that…

Chapter Two

“You’re late.”

“Sorry,” Gideon said to Jack Durnham, his best friend and second-in-command of the Thatcher Group. “Bad night. Too many things rolling around in my head. I didn’t fall asleep until about four this morning, and then I slept through the alarm. Maybe the boss won’t notice if we sneak into the office with our coats over our heads.”

“Good plan, boss,” Jack said with a laugh.

The two had been friends since middle school. They’d gone to college together, been each other’s best man at their weddings, and Jack had quit a lucrative job with a local engineering firm to come on board when Gideon had started the Thatcher Group. Technically Gideon was Jack’s boss but Gideon saw him more as a partner than an employee.

“What was rolling around in your head to keep you up?” Jack asked after they’d ordered.

“You won’t believe it when I tell you. But you first—how did your weekend with Sammy go?”

Jack grimaced and shook his blond head.

Sammy was his two-year-old son. Jack and his wife were recently separated and the three previous days were the first time Jack had had visitation with the toddler.

“Not great,” Jack said. “Tiffany is making everything as difficult as possible. I don’t know why—she’s the one who decided our marriage was stagnating and wanted out. But for some reason I get to be punished. After the seven weeks in Florida with her parents that kept me from seeing Sammy at all, she came back to Colorado Springs rather than Denver. It’s blackmail—if I want Sammy closer, I’ll have to pay for a place for her to live here. Otherwise, it’s an hour drive to the Springs to pick him up and an hour drive back to Denver to have him for the weekend. Then two more hours in the car for the return at the end of the visitation.”

Jack’s voice had gotten louder and angrier. Gideon could see that he needed to vent so he didn’t point out that this was the same thing Jack had ranted about in advance of the three-day weekend he’d taken with his son.

“How about the visit itself? How did that go?” Gideon asked.

“I know how you ended up over Jillie. So you probably think that I should just count myself lucky that I get to see Sammy at all. But, dammit, this is so lousy! Sammy is two! He took one look at me after so long apart, latched onto Tiffany’s leg and acted like I was a stranger. He cried when I took him, then glared at me the whole drive back to Denver. And to make things worse, once we got here and I needed to put him to bed, Tiffany hadn’t packed that blanket thing he sleeps with—”

“Oh, that’s bad!” Gideon commiserated. “Whatever it is they need to have with them when they go to sleep, they need to have.”

“Right. I had to load him back into the car—tired, crabby and hating me for taking him away from his mother—and go to three different Camden Superstores to try to find a blanket thing exactly like the one he has. Luckily I did, but by then he was overwrought, and he just kept crying for Tiffany and—”

“You were both miserable.”

“We were just getting back into the swing of things with each other by yesterday and I had to turn around and take him back,” Jack concluded.

“You’re right—that is lousy.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack apologized in a voice an octave lower than the one he’d been using. “Again, I know I’m better off than you are, but it still stinks.”

“Yeah, it does,” Gideon agreed. He could see clearly how much his friend was suffering and knew the feeling well. Too well. It served as a reminder of the reason for the decision he’d made for himself. The vow.

Their breakfasts arrived, and when the waitress had left Jack changed the subject.

“Okay, you know if you let me I’ll gripe about this all day. Now tell me what was rolling around in your head to keep you up last night.”

“Speaking of Camden Superstores…” Gideon said sarcastically, referring to his friend’s mention of them.

“I know how you feel about the Camdens, but sometimes we all have to use the stores that made them rich. Even you.”

Gideon avoided them but Jack was right, sometimes, in a pinch, he gave in and went into one of them.

“But how do we feel about taking Camden money for the Lakeview project…” he said.

Jack’s forkful of eggs stalled midair. “Huh?”

“When I came out of work last night there was a hot little number waiting for me on the sidewalk—January Camden. I’ve had some messages from her but I’ve been ignoring them. Apparently the Camdens want to make a donation to fund a park in Lakeview, in my great-grandfather’s name. They want to honor him.”

“Guilty-conscience money?” Jack guessed.

“That’s what I said.”

“So, I know the story…” Jack mused as if he were updating himself. “H. J. Camden was friends with your great-grandfather and your great-grandfather was Lakeview’s mayor, right? Back when Lakeview was a dying-out farm community with good proximity to Denver, Camden wanted to build warehouses and factories there. But Lakeview didn’t want to be turned into a warehouse and factory district, so Camden sweetened the deal—he said if he could build what he wanted there, he’d spearhead the development of Lakeview into a post-war suburban dream. New homes, the coming of big and small businesses, schools and parks—”

“And he got my great-grandfather to support his plan,” Gideon said. “He needed somebody who was well respected to go to bat for him. He needed influence with the city council—”

“Which—as mayor—your great-grandfather had.”

“And trusting their mayor, Lakeview signed on—they gave Camden the okay for the factories and warehouses.”

“But that was it for Camden,” Jack said. “Once he had what he wanted, he didn’t come through on the rest.”

“And my great-grandfather got the blame.”

“Along with all the retribution and the hardship that came with it and sifted down to your grandfather and your father and, ultimately, left you with things to deal with…” Jack nodded now that he knew they were on the same page. “You have good reason to feel the way you do about the Camdens. So what were you up all night doing? Thinking of ways to get even with them?”

“More like rehashing all the reasons I have for hating them. Fuming,” Gideon said, not telling his friend that he’d needed to focus on the anger because otherwise his mind kept wandering back to January Camden.

The first thing he’d noticed was all that espresso-colored hair bathed in golden streetlight, falling in waves well past her shoulders like a dark frame around skin as flawless and pure as fresh cream—that image had flashed through his mind and defused some of the fuming.

And so had recollections of high cheekbones and that thin, perfectly shaped nose that was just long enough to lend a hint of the exotic to her face. Of those full lips, lush and lovely and way, way too kissable-looking. Of eyes so blue—so intensely, brightly, blueberry-blue—that he’d been bowled over by them by the time he’d reached the fourth step down from his office…

And here he was again, lost in the memory of the memory that had kept him up last night.

He shook his head. “Anyway, no, I wasn’t thinking about getting even with them—it’s not like I’m obsessed with them, or with payback or something. But it also isn’t as if I want to get in bed with them, either…”

Where had that particular turn of phrase come from? And why had the picture of January Camden popped back into his brain along with it?

It’s a figure of speech and that’s all it is, he insisted to himself. It doesn’t have any hidden meaning.

Still he found himself feeling a few degrees warmer all of a sudden and fidgeting in his chair a little to evade the involuntary response that was going through him.

“I know you wouldn’t ever ‘get into bed’ with the Camdens,” Jack said. “But would that be what a donation from them was?”

“I don’t know,” Gideon said with a sigh. “I do like the idea of putting my great-grandfather’s name on something of value and service to Lakeview. And the Cam-dens sure as hell owe Lakeview.”

“So you’d be killing two birds with one stone?”

“Except that the stone belongs to the Camdens, and they can’t be trusted—my family history proves that,” Gideon added, showing just how much he was vacillating about this.

“Do you think it’s a trick of some kind?” Jack asked, as he finished with his breakfast and settled in with his second cup of coffee.

“I know I won’t let it be. And she said that I can set the terms.”

“So maybe this is on the up-and-up?” Jack suggested. “Maybe they really do just want to make up for what H.J. did?”

Gideon shrugged, showing his reservations.

“The Camdens are heavy into charity and benefits and good deeds now,” Jack pointed out. “Hospital wings, libraries, research labs, animal shelters. They’ve even made donations huge enough to be newsworthy in national and international disasters. Their name crops up with just about anything worthwhile that goes on these days. Could it be that this is a generation of new-and-improved Camdens?”

“New-and-improved Camdens?” Gideon parroted. “I might not be looking to get even but I also don’t know that I buy that, either. Don’t forget that H.J. came into Lakeview a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“True. But your eyes are wide open when it comes to these people. And if their donation benefits a community they owe plenty to and your great-grandfather gets paid a little homage in the process, aren’t those two good things?”

“I’m thinking about it,” Gideon said evasively.

The waitress came to find out if they wanted anything. Jack took a refill on his coffee. Gideon just asked for the check.

“This is on me for keeping you waiting,” he told his friend. “But I’m gonna have to leave you while you finish your coffee—I need to get to that meeting with Lakeview Parks and Recreation.”

“Oh, right, I forgot about that. I’ll see you at the office when you get back.”

As Gideon fished in his wallet to leave the money for the check and a generous tip he said, “Don’t worry about things with Sammy. This is the roughest time. He’s still your son and you have every right to him, so it’ll work out.”

“Yeah,” Jack said glumly. “But it’ll never be the same.”

Gideon couldn’t refute that because he knew it was true. So he didn’t try.

He merely said he’d see Jack later and left, knowing what his friend was going through and feeling a wave of old pain himself at the thought.

That pain lasted until he got behind the wheel of his SUV and headed for Lakeview. The thought of Lake-view brought January Camden and what she’d proposed back to mind to distract him.

If he decided to take her up on her offer and had to have contact with a Camden, at least it would be with a Camden who was easy on the eyes.

She’d been some kind of liaison to send. A real attention-getter. He had to give them credit for that, at least.

And she’d weathered the storm he’d sent her way with composure—she got points for that. Dignity and composure. And style—she had that, too. Dignity, composure, style, beauty…

Okay, yes, January Camden was something, he admitted reluctantly.

But she was still a Camden.

And even though he didn’t remember seeing a wedding ring, she must be a married Camden. If that book that had fallen out of her purse was any indication, she was in starting-a-family mode.

The old pain swung back and hit him when that thought went through his head. Family. Babies. Kids…

And suddenly it wasn’t January Camden he was picturing but the little girl who had been his own daughter. If only for a while…

Jillie.

His little Jillie-bean…

All this time and it could still knock him as cold as a fist to the jaw…

And it occurred to him that he’d actually rather think about January Camden than about Jillie. About all the Camdens. He’d rather be mad than maudlin and de-pressed….

So think about the donation…he told himself.

But only about the donation and the lousy, stinking, underhanded Camdens.

Not about the way January Camden looked or carried herself.

Not about her blue, blue eyes.

Not about what might be going on in her personal life.

Just the donation the lousy, stinking, underhanded Camdens wanted to make to Lakeview.

And whether or not he was going to let it happen…

“Aren’t you guys having lunch with GiGi and me?” Jani asked Margaret and Louie, referring to Georgi-anna Camden by the nickname everyone used for her. Jani had come to her grandmother’s house hoping for time alone with GiGi. But Margaret and Louie Halibur-ton were more than GiGi’s house staff; they were the adopted members of the family who had helped GiGi raise her ten grandchildren. They continued to work and live on the estate, and to be important to GiGi and to all of the Camdens.

Because they were in the kitchen with GiGi when Jani arrived, she’d expected them to be staying for lunch, which meant she’d have to have a few words with her grandmother in private later. But after they’d all exchanged pleasantries, Louie announced that he and Margaret should be going.

“I’m being taken out to lunch,” Margaret said with delight on her lined face. “I’d say Louie was becoming a romantic in his old age but I think you’re grandmother put him up to it since he forgot our anniversary.”

“Nah! It was my idea,” Louie insisted.

“Better make it a long lunch, Louie, with a shopping spree afterward, or you’re never getting out of the doghouse,” GiGi advised him, laughing.

The camaraderie among the three older people was obvious. They were genuinely close friends and indispensable to each other.

“Yes, shopping—that’s a good idea,” Margaret said, although Jani wondered why it would appeal to the woman who mainly wore elastic-waistband slacks and either T-shirts or sweatshirts that always had messages printed on them.

Regardless, the couple said goodbye and went on their way, leaving Jani alone with her grandmother to sit at the breakfast nook that was large enough for fourteen people.

GiGi had made her special grilled-cheese sandwiches and tomato-basil soup. That was what they talked about as they began to eat.

But then Jani heard the sound of the front door closing, telling her that Margaret and Louie had left, so she moved on to the subject she’d come to discuss. The subject that was absolutely not to be shared outside the circle of the grandchildren and GiGi. Not even with Margaret and Louie.

Whatever misdeeds H. J. Camden had perpetuated, the family knew it was imperative to keep it quiet. Prominence and wealth made them targets, and they didn’t want to invite trouble.

“So I told you on the phone that I finally spoke to Gideon Thatcher,” Jani said.

“How did it go?” the elderly woman inquired.

“Not well. He hates us, GiGi,” Jani said, wasting no time getting to the point. “Decades and two generations between when H.J.’s promises to Lakeview fizzled out and now haven’t made it any better—this guy hates us as much as if he was the one H.J. used to get those warehouses and factories built.”

“Well, we are seeking out folks who got the short end of the stick from H.J.,” GiGi said calmly.

“But maybe I’m not the best one to deal with it right now, when I’ve started with the infertility endocrinologist and the wheels are finally in motion for a baby.”

Jani could see from the expression on Georgi-anna’s face—which still showed glimmers of her early beauty—that her grandmother was trying to contain her disapproval of the course Jani had set for herself.

“You’ve made it clear that that’s what you’re going to do come hell or high water but I still don’t agree with the rush,” GiGi said bluntly. “I know when you had that appendectomy at seventeen and they found out you have only one ovary—”

“One unusually small ovary,” Jani reminded. “Which means that from the get-go my chances for having a family are greatly reduced—you and I were both told that.”

“I know that since then you’ve been scared silly that you wouldn’t be able to have a baby at all.”

“Because they made it clear there were risks, especially if I waited too long. ‘The earlier the better’—that’s what they said. And now I’ve turned thirty! Thirty and with all those years wasted on Reggie. I can’t wait any longer, GiGi!”

“Eat some grilled cheese, tell me if there’s enough garlic in the mayo,” her grandmother advised.

Jani knew that was a diversion to keep her from getting too agitated. But it was difficult not to get agitated over this. Until now she’d followed the traditional route—she’d tried to find the right guy, get married, then have a family. The route her grandmother approved of.

But that route had led to a dead end and cost her precious time. Time she certainly didn’t have to waste.

So she wasn’t going to. She’d come to the firm conclusion that she had to bypass the step of finding another man to have a relationship with. She couldn’t afford the months, the years that a relationship required to blossom, to develop. She couldn’t afford the time it took to get to an engagement, a marriage. To only then pursue a pregnancy and have a baby. More years could be spent on that course.

Instead she’d decided to have a baby on her own. Here and now, without a husband. That’s what she’d made up her mind to do. And that was what she was going to do. Despite the fact that to seventy-five-year-old Georgianna it wasn’t merely unconventional, but bordered on scandalous.

“I’m just saying,” Jani reasoned, getting back to her initial point, “that maybe it would be better to give this particular deal with Gideon Thatcher to someone else because so much of my energy will be devoted to getting pregnant.”

Hmm…But why did the thought of her grandmother giving this job to one of her female cousins make her feel a little jealous, a little territorial?

Jani didn’t understand it.

But it was that feeling that prompted her to add, “Maybe one of the boys would be better…”

GiGi shook her head as she took a bite of her own sandwich. “I’m looking at it this way—let’s say you do get pregnant—”

“I will get pregnant. I have to. It’s my last chance.”

GiGi humored her. “Yes, well. Once you do, then you’ll be pregnant and dealing with that without even a husband to take care of you or help you—that wouldn’t be a time to send you out on one of these missions, would it? Then you’ll have a baby—on your own,” the elderly woman emphasized. “I won’t be able to ask you to leave a baby in order to spend time getting to know one of these people to find out how much damage was done and how we can make up for it, will I?”

GiGi had always been sharp as a tack and that hadn’t changed with age. She’d also always been a step ahead of all ten of her grandchildren, and Jani could see that was still the case. Apparently GiGi had anticipated her arguments and prepared her rebuttal.

“So now is the best time for you to do this. Maybe the only time you’ll be able to do it,” GiGi concluded.

Jani had to laugh a little at her own defeat. Her grandmother was right—once she was pregnant and had a baby, she wasn’t going to be in any position to do something like this. So rather than continue to fight it, she supposed she might as well concede.

At least, she told herself, GiGi wasn’t trying to talk her out of having a baby on her own anymore, even if the elderly woman didn’t like the idea.

Jani just hoped her grandmother didn’t think that this project with Gideon Thatcher would keep her from pursuing the baby issue. Because she wouldn’t let that—or anything else—get in her way. She would just schedule her appointments with the infertility doctor around whatever she had to do with the oh-so-good-looking man who saw her as the enemy. She wasn’t going to cancel or postpone anything.

“Okay, you win,” Jani said over a spoonful of the soup. “But this Thatcher guy isn’t going to settle for only a park in his great-grandfather’s name. He threw that back in my face. If he agrees to let us do something, it’s going to have to be bigger. Probably a lot bigger.”

GiGi shrugged. “Fine. Do whatever it takes to find out how much damage H.J. did, and if we can do more for the Thatchers themselves to make it up to them. Whatever he wants.”

“What he wants is a Camden head on a platter.”

GiGi slid out of the breakfast nook with her empty water glass in one hand. As she passed by the side of the nook where Jani was sitting, she took Jani’s chin in her free hand, and tipped Jani’s face upward for close scrutiny the way she had when Jani was just a little girl.

“I don’t believe any man would want to take you apart, my darling. You make an old woman jealous.”

Jani laughed. “GiGi,” she chastised when her grandmother released her face and went to the refrigerator, “you’ve always said you were perfectly content with the way you are—that you’d rather be happy than hungry or all dolled up. Now you’ve changed your mind? Maybe because of your new old boyfriend?”

During the first of these projects to make amends, Jani’s brother Cade had put GiGi back into contact with GiGi’s first love, Jonah Morrison. GiGi and Jonah had been high school sweethearts in Northbridge, Montana, where they’d both been raised. The young couple had split up after graduation, and GiGi had subsequently met and married Hank Camden.

But now that both GiGi and Jonah were widowed and coincidentally living in Colorado, they’d reconnected, and they were seeing each other again. Dat-ing—although GiGi complained that she was too old to call it that.

GiGi laughed as she refilled her water glass. “My new old boyfriend,” she repeated. “Is that what you’re all calling Jonah?”

“That’s what he is, isn’t he?”

“I don’t think a man Jonah’s age can be called a ‘boyfriend.’”

“Your new old suitor? Is that better?”

“You just tend to the man you’re supposed to be tending to and don’t worry about what to call Jonah,” GiGi advised.

“You might be tending to Jonah, but I’m not tending to any man anymore, let alone the angry Gideon Thatcher,” Jani corrected. “I’m just doing what you want me to do—trying to get close enough, often enough, to find some things out about him and his family. I’m not doing anything that might qualify as tending to him,” she insisted.

“Does he look as good in person as he did in that newspaper picture?” GiGi asked as she slid back into the nook with her refilled glass. “That hardhat he was wearing made it impossible to tell some things—like without it, is he bald and lumpy-headed?”

“No…He has hair,” Jani said, instantly picturing Gideon Thatcher in her mind’s eye. It was something that had been happening incessantly since she’d left him on the street the evening before, dragging her into alarmingly involuntary daydreams…

“He has very nice hair,” she went on. “Actually, that picture of him in the paper didn’t do him justice. And neither did the ones of him on his website. He has great hair—kind of a sandy-brown—”

“Is it neat and clean or does he look like he needs a haircut the way Reggie always did?”

“It’s neat and clean. But not so neat that he looks stuffy or severe.”

“Clean-shaven or scruffy?”

“Clean-shaven.” Leaving that sharply chiseled jawline and that sexy off-center dent in his chin clearly visible. Visible, and such a perfect match to the rest of his bone structure. His face was just rugged enough that he couldn’t be considered a pretty-boy—which is what GiGi had called Reggie.

“Is he a big man? He looked like a big man in that picture. Bigger than whoever that was he was shaking hands with,” GiGi commented.

“He is a big man. Tall. With broad shoulders.” Im-pressively broad shoulders…

“Stocky or lean?”

“Lean. He’s not fat in any way.”

“Scrawny like Reggie?”

“No, definitely not scrawny, either. I think he was all muscle under the overcoat he was wearing.” All muscle and masculinity…

“What about his eyes? What color are his eyes?”

“The most beautiful green you’ve ever seen—a shimmering sort of sea-green…”

And then it struck Jani that these questions were out of the ordinary and she realized that her grandmother had set a trap for her. A trap she’d fallen into by rhapsodizing somewhat about Gideon Thatcher’s appearance. And now GiGi was smiling knowingly.

“Not that I care how he looks,” Jani added in an attempt to do damage control. “He could be a troll and it wouldn’t matter. He’s just the person I need to deal with to do what we need to do. Male, female, good-looking, not good-looking, it doesn’t make any difference.”

But her grandmother was staring at her from beneath raised eyebrows and still smiling.

In spite of what Jani read in the elderly woman’s expression, GiGi said, “No, of course it doesn’t make any difference that he looks even better in person than in his pictures. I was just curious.”

“He hates us, GiGi,” Jani repeated, emphasizing each word for effect to warn the older woman away from whatever she was thinking.

“And that’s what we’re going to try to make up for,” GiGi concluded.

“His secretary called this morning to arrange for me to meet him for coffee after work tonight. What am I supposed to do if he just gives me a flat no on our proposal and won’t have anything to do with me?”

“He wouldn’t need a whole cup of coffee to do that, he could have said that on the phone. Or had his secretary tell you. If he wants to have coffee, I think there’s hope.”

But what exactly was her grandmother hoping for? Jani wondered.

“I suppose,” she agreed. “Although he could just want a check from us and to never set eyes on me again—what then?”

GiGi laughed. “Persuade him otherwise,” she suggested.

Jani rolled her eyes. “Easy for you to say,” she muttered.

But that was all she said on the subject. She had to get back to work and, since they were finished eating, she stood to clear the table.

As she did she was thinking about that meeting with Gideon Thatcher tonight, and calculating if she could run by her house to change her clothes before going back to the office.

Because when she’d gotten dressed this morning she hadn’t known she would end the day seeing him again.

Now that she knew she would be, she was wishing she’d worn her better butt-hugging slacks.

And the new blouse with the collar that stood high around the column of her neck but didn’t quite meet in front until the first button just barely above her cleavage.

It wasn’t a work outfit—in fact she never wore anything to work that even hinted at cleavage.

But when it came to Gideon Thatcher she thought she could use all the help she could get.

Just for the cause.

Anything to aid the cause.

Not because she cared how she looked for him…

Chapter Three

Gideon Thatcher was late and Jani’s feet hurt.

Not only had she gone home and changed her clothes after having lunch with her grandmother, she’d also changed her shoes. Three-inch heels with toes as pointy as arrows. Like the deep purple blouse with the slit of a plunging neckline, they weren’t work shoes. But they looked fabulous so she’d opted to suffer. And luckily the coffee shop Gideon Thatcher had chosen had its own parking lot, so there was no real hike from her car.

Only he wasn’t there yet when she arrived—on time at six o’clock—so she was waiting for him at the entrance.

On her feet.

For the past twenty-five minutes.

She was beginning to think he wasn’t coming and wondering what she was going to do if he didn’t when a jazzy little sports car pulled into the lot, parked next to her car on the passenger side, and out of it stepped the man himself.

Was keeping her waiting a power play? Just another indication that he was going to be difficult?

It didn’t matter. She could handle that. It was part of what she did for work.

Handling the way he looked was something else, though. She couldn’t keep her eyes from being riveted to him as he headed for the coffee shop.

He was wearing a dark gray suit that was clearly tailor-made for him, accentuating his broad shoulders, his narrow waist and hips, his long, powerful legs.

There was no shadow of beard to mar his sexy, sculpted face. His charcoal-colored tie was still knotted tight against his dove-gray shirt collar. And if a power play was what he had in mind, he was definitely dressed for it because as he came into the coffee shop it was power that he exuded.

But he surprised her by greeting her with an apology that bore not even a hint of arrogance or satisfaction.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I had a meeting with a Lakeview city councilwoman and she was in no hurry to leave.”

Maybe the councilwoman was just enjoying the view….

Because Jani still was. In spite of herself.

“No problem,” she said, appreciating that his tardiness hadn’t been on purpose. But she also noted that his overall attitude continued to be cool and aloof. And not at all friendly.

“Coffees are on the latecomer,” he announced with no particular warmth, moving to the counter to order. “Or whatever you want…”

Jani ordered a decaf latte. While Gideon ordered a plain black coffee for himself, she took off her knee-length wool coat and draped it over her arm.

She looked up to find him watching her much the way she’d been watching him as he’d approached the coffee shop from his car.

He averted his eyes the minute she caught him at it and fidgeted just the slightest bit.

Jani did a quick check of her blouse buttons but they were all fastened; as far as she could tell, nothing was amiss, so she wasn’t sure what about the way she looked made him even slightly ill at ease.

She just hoped she didn’t look as if she were trying too hard. Or worse yet, as though she were trying to seduce him with the blouse and the shoes. And her better butt-hugging slacks…

Maybe she should put her coat back on. But she was afraid that would seem odd, so she decided she just had to weather whatever was going on with him.

When their coffees were ready they took them to a bistro table in a corner where they sat across from each other. Jani laid her coat over the third, unused chair.

“I was glad you called,” she began, opting for friendliness even if he wasn’t. “But I would have met you during business hours—I don’t want to keep you away from your wife and family…”

Yes, she was fishing. There wasn’t a wedding ring but that didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t married. Or didn’t have kids. And wasn’t that the underlying reason she was doing any of this—to get to know the man? It wasn’t that she was curious herself….

“I’m divorced,” he said curtly, giving her no more information than that. “But I suppose you didn’t like leaving your husband home alone.”

Was he fishing, too? After all, the lack of a ring on a woman’s finger was a dead giveaway, wasn’t it? Or had he just not noticed?

She held up her left hand, showing him the back of it. “I’m not married,” she said.

But then she recalled spilling the contents of her purse the evening before.

Of course he would assume that a book about getting pregnant would mean there was a husband in the picture.

“Oh, because of the book,” she said when light dawned on her. “No, no husband. Not even a fiancé or a boyfriend currently. I’m just not letting that stop me from having a baby.”

No, no, no, she hadn’t really said that, had she? Un-filtered thoughts right out of her mouth—always a mis-take!

Not that she was hiding her plan to have a baby on her own. She’d vowed that if she were going to do it, it would be without making excuses or being ashamed of it. She was going to do it proudly and joyously. The way having a baby should be.

But she was talking to Gideon Thatcher. He was a stranger and a man who didn’t like the Camdens on principle. This was not a situation where it was appropriate to talk about her baby plan.

Not that Gideon Thatcher said anything to encourage her to share more information. He was staring into his coffee cup without making any comment at all.

Then he changed the subject. “I’ve thought about the Camdens wanting to do something for Lakeview in my great-grandfather’s name.”

All business. Good, Jani thought, tasting her own latte and merely raising her eyebrows at him in question rather than trusting herself to say something else she shouldn’t.

“I’ve been thinking for a while about a community center there,” he continued. “Something that offers recreation, low-cost day care and preschool, and adult education to help retrain people who might want to escape working in the Camden factories and warehouses, or develop more skills to help them move up the ladder within your organization. But it isn’t in the budget, and I haven’t been able to come up with the extra funding.”

“The Franklin Thatcher Community Center,” Jani suggested.

“I have a building in mind that would meet the requirements, but it’s been out of use for over a dozen years and needs some serious repair, remodeling and even some reconstruction. Not to mention landscaping to create sports fields and a playground to serve the day care and preschool. Plus there’s staffing, operating costs—”

“But it sounds like something that would really benefit Lakeview and be nice to have your great-grandfather’s name on,” Jani observed.

“It isn’t just a simple park,” he pointed out with a challenging arch to one of his own eyebrows.

“No, but it seems worthwhile. Something good to give back to the community.” And something that was definitely going to cost…

He relaxed slightly more in his chair and seemed to reach unconsciously for his tie, loosening it, unbuttoning the collar button that had come out from hiding behind it.

Then he stretched his neck a little. His head swayed to the right, then to the left, his chin jutted forward, and for some reason Jani saw it all in slow motion.

She savored every nuance, finding every detail somehow enticing. And suddenly she felt fidgety herself.

Was that why he’d been fidgeting when she’d taken off her coat? Was it possible that he’d liked what he’d seen? That he’d felt enticed by it?

Probably not, she told herself, knowing that she shouldn’t entertain such thoughts. Not with this man and not at this juncture in her life.

And yet if the way he looked and the simplest of gestures could entice her, it helped to think that she might be able to entice him a little, too. Anything that gave an inkling that he didn’t have complete contempt for her was a plus. It helped her feel as if they were on more equal territory. And she’d take whatever crumbs she could get.

“So, if it’s worthwhile, are the Camdens willing to foot the bill?” he asked, repeating her term with a tinge of insolence. “Including staff salaries and operating expenses until the center becomes self-supporting?” There was a challenge in his tone, as well.

Jani pretended to consider what he was asking even though her instructions were to do whatever he wanted. He was asking a lot, after all. She looked into her own coffee cup. Letting silence reign for a moment, she took another drink of her latte.

Then she said, “Of course I’ll have to run the actual numbers by my family, but I think a community center is a great idea and I think they all will, too.”

“In my great-grandfather’s name? Without strings attached, the Camdens won’t profit from it now or at any time in the future—in fact it could be instrumental in costing them warehouse and factory workers. And the donation will be absolutely anonymous, there won’t be a single drop of credit to your family….”

His terms and more challenge.

“Agreed,” Jani said simply.

“It’s going to cost a hell of a lot more than a park,” he warned unnecessarily.

“The money isn’t the point,” Jani said sincerely. “We just want to do something for the community that honors your great-grandfather.”

Gideon Thatcher took a turn at letting silence reign, studying her.

Then he said, “That’s some kind of big guilt you people are showing.”

Jani met him eye to eye. “I know you believe the worst, but there is another side to this that I might tell you when you’re ready to hear it.”

“Is that so?”

“It is,” she said, holding her ground calmly, quietly, but with conviction.

His great green eyes stayed steady on her for a long moment. While Jani knew he was once again gauging her motives and whether there was some hidden trap or conspiracy in this, she also had the sense that he was looking beyond the fact that she was a Camden and sizing her up as her own person.

His expression didn’t reveal the conclusion he came to, though.

“I suppose we should start with you taking a look at the building and getting an idea of what you’re signing on for.”

Was she imagining it or was there a microscopically small reduction in the hostility in his tone?

She was probably just imagining it because she wanted it to be the case.

“Just tell me where and when,” she said.

“So eager…” he muttered, still watching her and again seeming suspicious.

“Actually, I’m just trying to be cooperative,” she corrected.

He didn’t remark on that. He merely went on watching her as if to say that he’d be the judge. But Jani thought that actions spoke louder than words, and he wouldn’t be able to find fault with her actions because she was on the up-and-up.

Then, out of the blue, he said, “So you’re not mar-ried….”

“Nope, never have been.”

“But you’re not letting the lack of a husband—or even a fiancé or a boyfriend—stop you from having a family?”

“Not anymore.”

“That’s a bold move.”

Oh yeah, he was sizing her up.

She shrugged. “Sometimes it feels that way,” she admitted. “But I just started the process. I’ve only had my first visit to the doctor, and I’m taking it one step at a time.” Which was what she told herself whenever the prospect of artificial insemination, pregnancy, delivery and raising a child alone seemed daunting.

One step at a time. Take it one step at a time and you can handle it….

It was actually the advice GiGi had given all ten of her grandchildren whenever they’d thought anything was insurmountable, and it had always served Jani well.

“I suppose you are a Camden—you don’t need financial help,” Gideon said. “But still…Will there even be a father in the picture?” He suddenly sat up straighter and leaned farther back in his chair, held up his hands, palms out, and added, “None of my business. I’m out of line.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jani said, thinking that if she needed him to eventually open up to her, it might aid the cause for her to be open with him first. “There won’t be a father in the picture. There will only be me. And a baby!” she said enthusiastically.

He was looking even more intently at her, with the shadow of a frown putting a small crease between his eyebrows. “Do you think that a father in a kid’s life is just inconsequential?” he asked as if it were an issue to him.

“No! Not at all,” Jani said. “I loved my own dad dearly—I was an awful daddy’s girl. And regardless of how you think of H.J., I loved him, too—he was an important man in my life. So was a man named Louie, who was sort of a substitute father when I needed him to be. This is just…” She wanted to foster a sense of openness with Gideon but she wasn’t willing to be too open or go into too many details, either.

“…this is just what I’ve decided to do. A baby is something I’ve wanted forever and I’m not going to wait any longer to have one. Kids grow up in all sorts of different situations now—lots and lots of them in one-parent homes. If…” no, she wasn’t going to have defeatist thoughts “…when I get pregnant, I’ll just love my baby enough for it to feel like it has two parents.”

The crease between Gideon’s eyes deepened. It reminded Jani of the way Gigi responded to this subject.

“I know not everyone approves—my grandmother wishes I wouldn’t do it,” she said. “But things don’t always work out the way we—or anyone else—wish they would.”

“True…”

“So sometimes you just have to do what you have to do to get what you want.”

“H. J. Camden’s philosophy?” Gideon said with challenge in his tone again.

I walked into that one, didn’t I?

“Family was important to my great-grandfather,” she said, purposely misinterpreting Gideon’s words and ignoring what he’d actually meant. “And having a family is really, really important to me, too. That’s why I’m not going to wait or leave it to chance anymore.”

“I can’t say that leaving things to chance has worked out for me,” he said. Then he shrugged. “Well, good luck with that, I guess.”

“Thank you,” she answered as if his wishes had been more heartfelt.

He asked if she wanted a second latte but when Jani declined he said, “I should probably get going. I have paperwork to do yet tonight.”

Why did it sound as if he might be reluctant to end this? Jani wondered. It certainly didn’t seem as if he were having a good time with her.

Maybe he just wanted to put off working more tonight.

He stood up and took their empty cups to throw in the trash, leaving Jani with confirmation that he did, indeed, have manners.

And an incredibly good rear end that came into view when he bent over to pick up a package of napkins one of the teenage employees dropped when he walked by carrying more of them than he could balance.

But admiring Gideon Thatcher’s derriere was totally uncalled for and when Jani realized that was what she was doing, she stood, too, and began to put on her coat.

Her gaze remained on Gideon, though, even after he was standing straight and tall again. As she admired the drape of his suit coat from those expansive shoulders to his narrow waist and hips, she somehow kept missing the opening of her second coat sleeve.

She was still fumbling with it as he got back to the table and he gave her an assist, holding her coat up to make the armhole more accessible.

“Thanks,” she said for the second time, ultra-aware of his arm stretched across her back.

It wasn’t as if he were putting his arm around her, she told herself.

It just sort of felt that way.

And sent a little tingle through her that she had no control over. That was silly. And uncalled for.

And still somehow made her feel all warm inside…

Which was just plain crazy.

Then he took his arm away and it was even crazier that she was sorry it was gone.

“So, looking at the building for the community center,” she said to put things squarely back into the dominion of business.

“Right…” Gideon said, giving no indication that being near her had affected him the way it had affected her. “I’ll be in Lakeview all day tomorrow. I could meet you at the building I have in mind at…maybe, let’s say, four-thirty? Any earlier and I’m afraid I might keep you waiting again.”

“My schedule is light tomorrow. I can leave work early enough to get to Lakeview by four-thirty. Just send me the address.”

“I’ll do that,” he agreed as they headed for the coffee shop exit.

“Thanks for the latte,” Jani said, passing in front of him as he held the door open for her. “And I’m glad you decided to let us do this for Lakeview and for your great-grandfather.”

The frown that skittered across his handsome face made her wonder if, for just a few minutes, he’d forgotten who she was. And she was sorry she’d brought it back to mind.

His only acknowledgment of what she’d said was to raise that dented chin of his as he followed her outside.

She had the sense that he was tempted to walk her to the driver’s side of her car when he hesitated to go to his own. But apparently he resisted the urge because as Jani went to her sedan, he walked in front of it to his own vehicle.

While Jani unlocked her door he stood with his back to his, watching her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she called across to him.

“Right. Tomorrow,” he confirmed, waiting for her to get in before he turned to his own car.

Sitting in her driver’s seat, Jani got her second glimpse of his rear end through her passenger window as he leaned over to unlock his door.

But she quickly turned her head to face forward when he got in so he wouldn’t catch her ogling him.

As she started her engine and pulled out of the parking spot, she angled her eyes in the direction of her rearview mirror so he wouldn’t know she was look-ing—even though she was. She just couldn’t stop herself from getting every last glimpse of him.

The thought of seeing him again the next day excited her a little.

Maybe even more than a little.

In fact, she was already looking forward to it as if it were the highlight of the day to come.

And wondering if she should wear the formfitting fuchsia dress that she usually considered too tight and way, way too short for the office…

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.