Expecting the Boss’s Baby (14 page)

He dropped into the chair. Bracing his elbows on his spread knees, he leaned toward her, his expression intent. “You're doing it again. Putting words in my mouth.”

“Words
you
said and said very clearly.”

“That was three months ago. Everything's changed now.”

“You said
never,
Dax. You said you would never get married and you would never have children. You were very sure about it. Up-front, you know? Honest. I respected that.”

“Well, and guess what? I was wrong. I'm willing to admit that, willing to move on from that. Is there some reason
you
can't move on, too?”

She thought about the things he'd revealed to her, when it was just the two of them alone in the jungle, with only each other to turn to. And she told him, softly, “I won't, Dax. I won't be Nora all over again.”

He swore. “You're not. I am very well aware that you're not. I never so much as hinted that you're like Nora in any way.”

“And I
won't
be like Nora. I'm not going to…trap you into something you didn't sign on for.”

“I don't think you're trapping me.”

“Maybe not. But
I
would feel like I was trapping you.”

“So get over it.” He growled the words.

She refused to back down on this. “It's just not that simple.”

“Because you're making it complicated.”

“No, I'm not. No more complicated that it actually is.” She held his eyes, willed him to listen, to look into his own heart. “Don't you see? The baby, well, it's happening. You're going to have to deal with that. As a man. As a future father. And I deeply admire you for stepping right up, for being such a stand-up guy about this when we both know this is exactly what was
not
supposed to happen. Yes, I agree that a two-parent home is the ideal. But it's by no means the only way for a child to get the love and guidance needed in life. Matt and Corrine had Kira without getting married. They were excellent coparents for five years. They worked together for Kira's sake, but they kept their lives separate. In the end, they decided to marry, yes. But they were doing a terrific job without being husband and wife. I think we can do a good job, too. I really do. There's absolutely no reason we have to—”

“There is every reason.” His voice was hard. “Why won't you believe me when I tell you that you are not, and never could be, another Nora to me? That was more than a decade ago. Nora is nothing like you. And I'm a different man now.”

“But still a man who doesn't want to get married, a man who is having a child he didn't sign on for. Uh-uh. It's not right. Marriage is not what you want, not what you ever wanted. You were crystal clear about that. There is no reason to go there.”

“There is every reason.”

“I'm sorry. I don't agree. I simply don't.”

He stared across the sudden chasm between them, tension rolling off him in waves. She knew he was barely holding back from leaping up, grabbing her by the shoulders and trying to shake some sense into her—
his
kind of sense.

Finally, in a deadly soft voice, he said, “It doesn't matter what I do, does it? There is nothing I can say. You've got it all worked out in your mind and that is how it's going to be.” He rose to his feet.

She saw in his eyes that he was leaving. “Dax, please. Can't we just take a deep breath here? Can't we just back off on this? It doesn't all have to be worked out tonight.”

He was not appeased. “But it is worked out, isn't it? As far as
you're
concerned anyway. And when it comes to us, you run the show. I'm lucky to get to go along for the ride.”

“Dax, that's not fair.”

“Maybe not, but it's the truth. We are perfect for each other. We understand each other. We love the same things. You're as crazy for me as I am for you. The sex is amazing.
And
you happen to be having my baby. But none of that matters. Because you've made up your mind that you're
not
going to marry me. You know what's right for me and you're going to see that I get it—whether it's what I want or not. End of story. All she wrote.”

She longed to tell him he was wrong, that he had judged her too harshly. But how could she say that when she
had
made up her mind and she
wasn't
going to marry him? All the things he had just mentioned were true. They had a lot in common. In many ways, they were very right for each other. But not when it came to marriage and children. Because she wanted them. And he didn't.

Zoe pulled her shoulders back and faced him squarely. “No, I'm not going to marry you.”

He had that look again—like he wanted to shake her. Or maybe strangle her.

Instead, without another word, he turned and left her. She heard him in the entryway, pulling the front door wide. He closed it quietly behind him, but she winced at the faint sound nonetheless.

A
ll evening, Zoe kept hoping he'd call—or show up at her door again.

But he didn't.

And she didn't call him.

She decided that maybe it was better to leave it alone for a while. Give him time. Give
her
time. To get used to the idea that there was going to be a baby in their lives, to start coming to grips with the big changes the baby would bring.

In the morning, she considered calling in sick, but she wasn't sick. She was perfectly healthy. Tired, yes, but certainly capable of going in to work.

And moping around the condo didn't hold much appeal. At work, there would be, as always, way too much to do. And that would be wonderful. It would help her keep her mind off her worries.

Yes, her biggest worry of all would be showing up
about a half hour after she got there. Dealing with Dax right now was almost certain to be…uncomfortable. He would probably find interesting ways to make her miserable, to try to bully her into letting him do the “right thing,” which they both knew was absolutely the wrong thing for him.

But she could handle Dax. Plus, calling in sick might give him an excuse to start thinking about getting rid of her. It was a distinct possibility that he might not want her working for him anymore, now that she was having his baby. Now that they were so completely on the outs over what to do about it.

If he fired her, so be it. She'd pick up the pieces and move on. But no way was she showing him weakness; no way would she give him any reason to start thinking that she couldn't deal with working for him now.

She loved her job and she was holding on to it until the bitter end, until he told her to leave or they carried her out on a stretcher, far gone in labor—and not even then, if she could help it.

Her plan was to take six weeks' pregnancy leave and then to come back.

So she ate a protein-rich breakfast, piled on the concealer to cover the dark circles under her eyes and went to work.

 

Dax fully expected Zoe to take a day off. Even so furious at her he couldn't see straight, he realized that she was beat, that she needed a little time to herself.

He was even a little worried she might decide to give notice. Now he'd finally found the perfect assistant, the last thing he wanted was to lose her too soon.

No, he had a right to several more months of her excellent personal services before it became necessary
to promote her to keep some other rag from stealing her away.

Even if she
was
having his baby and being ridiculously obstinate about how to deal with that.

Not to mention insulting. He was a decade older than she was, yet sometimes she treated him like an overgrown boy. She had cut him to the core the previous evening. And he wasn't going to forgive her until she came to her senses and admitted how wrong she had been.

A little groveling, too. That was definitely in order. A little begging him to forgive her for judging him so wrongly. That would be nice.

But his frustrated fury at her didn't mean he was willing to get along without her at the office. No. Not that. Not until he absolutely had to.

He fully expected her to take the day off, regroup and come back in Friday, refreshed and ready to see to his every need—in a professional sense at least.

And as to her sincere apology and inevitable agreement that they really should get married? He accepted that she was a proud woman, too proud, really, for her own good. And he understood that it might take her a few days to come to her senses about their future.

A few days would still be too long. But he was willing to wait if she needed the time to face reality.

Shocked the hell out of him when the elevator doors slid open and there she was, his coffee in her outstretched hand. Wearing a snug pink blouse and skirt to match, she was the female equivalent of strawberry ice cream. She made him want to lick her right up.

Three months along. It didn't seem possible. Her belly was as slim and tight as it had ever been.

“Good morning, Dax.” She smiled. That adorable dimple tucked itself temptingly into her pink cheek.

He said nothing. He took the coffee, removed the lid, sniffed it, sipped it, put the lid back on. And went into his office and shut the door.

Fifteen minutes later, he called her in for the huddle. As always, they kept it strictly business. Yeah, okay. He might have tossed her a glowering glance or two.

But he got nothing back but cheerful smiles and direct responses to his questions. For her, it was business as usual. Zoe was on the job and sharp and efficient as ever.

The whole day went by and she gave zero indication that she needed to see him alone, to explain to him how off-base she had been, to tell him she only wanted his forgiveness—and his ring on her finger.

Didn't she get it? She only had to make it clear that she was very, very sorry, and he would make love to her all night long. Then in the morning, he would get her an enormous diamond. A real diamond bigger than the fake one she'd bought back when she was pretending to be engaged to the nonexistent Johnny.

They would tell her family together. And sometime in the next few weeks, they would get married.

He was tired of going back and forth to that little condo of hers anyway. He was ready to have her at his house all the time, to be able to take her anywhere and proudly introduce her as his wife.

As soon as she quit being stubborn about this, they could get on with their lives.

 

But Zoe never said she was sorry.

Friday went by. And the weekend. And the next week. And the week after that.

She came to work every day with a smile on her face. She looked great. Her stomach stayed flat.

He started to worry that maybe she had lost the baby. Lost
their
baby and never said a word to him.

Could that be possible? Was he cursed? Did he bring nothing but heartache to the women who cared for him?

First Nora and now Zoe, carrying his baby.

And then losing it.

He began to see things differently, to wonder if maybe
he
was in the wrong. Wrong to let this drag on like this, with this distance he hated between them, when Zoe was carrying his child—or had lost his child—and needed him to be with her. Needed him to support her the way a man is meant to support the woman who matters to him.

He saw that
he
was the stubborn one, the one with all the foolish pride.

And what had his pride gotten him but loneliness? He hated not being with her after the workday was through, hated how empty his giant house seemed without her, hated how he even missed her dinky little condo, as long as he was in it with her.

But they had a kind of routine established at that point, a routine that she showed no inclination to change. Through the day, they were together in a strictly professional sense. And neither mentioned the baby, or their relationship as a man and a woman—their
lack
of a relationship lately.

It had become a habit so quickly, to be miserable and pretend he wasn't, to keep it all bottled up inside, to tell himself constantly that she had to come to him. That she
would
come to him.

But she never did. It wasn't happening as he'd expected and he needed to do something about that.

Soon. Very soon.

It had all…gotten away from him somehow. Suddenly, Thanksgiving was almost upon them. The holidays loomed just around the corner.

His housekeeper was already making plans to put up the giant tree in the foyer, in the curve of the grand staircase. And the head groundskeeper had come to him the week before to get his approval on the outdoor Christmas light display.

As a rule, Dax didn't take a lot of interest in the holidays. Growing up without a mother or siblings, with a dad who sometimes worked on Christmas Day, the holidays had never felt all that special or meaningful to him.

But he discovered that this year, he wanted them to be special. And meaningful. He wanted to share them with Zoe.

Starting with Thanksgiving.

Zoe would probably go to her family's ranch for Thanksgiving, wouldn't she? If they got back together before then, he could go, too. He would like that. He enjoyed her family. They were smart, interesting people.

Not that it really mattered to him where they went, as long as they went there together….

 

On a lonely Wednesday night, a week and a day before Thanksgiving, he stood at one of the tall front windows in his formal living room. He sipped good Scotch, thought about how three Sundays had passed since it all blew apart. Had she been to the ranch for Sunday dinner in those weeks? Had any of her siblings
or Aleta or Davis asked about him, wondered why he wasn't with her?

This was getting beyond ridiculous. It had to stop. Being without her made him feel all wrong inside his own skin.

At least in the daytime, five days a week, he got to see her, talk to her. Be near her, if not
with
her. Nights, like tonight, though, it got bad. The empty house echoed.

Action was called for, he thought for the umpteenth time. He needed to go after her.

And he
would
go after her.

Soon.

 

Zoe stood at the front window in her cozy living room, her hand resting on the slight curve of her belly, and stared out at the little patch of lawn in front of her condo. The condo association was talking about ripping out that tiny patch, putting in xeriscape to conserve precious water. That would probably happen in the spring. In the meantime, she had the small square of currently winter-brown grass.

Maybe sometime in the next couple of weeks, she would get over to one of the local home-improvement centers and pick up a couple of wire reindeer, the ones with little gold lights and moving parts—heads that went from side to side, or up and down, as if they were cropping the soon-to-be nonexistent grass.

Definitely. Reindeer on her square of lawn. That would be festive.

And cheerful, as well.

Lately, she needed every bit of cheer she could get. She kept up a good front at the office. But at home, well, it was too easy to get feeling grim.

Idly, she stroked the barely-there roundness of her
tummy. It was happening, finally. She was starting to get an actual stomach. The baby was making her—or his—presence known. About time, too. She would hit the four-month mark the first week in December.

December.

It would be there before she knew it. December—and Christmas without Dax.

Why did that make her feel desolate? Last year, she hadn't even
known
the guy.

But then, she'd had to go and fall hopelessly in love with him. Now Christmas without him seemed as awful to contemplate as Thanksgiving was going to be.

She needed to go to him, try and work it out with him, to reach some kind of peace and understanding with him. It couldn't go on forever this way, could it?

The really sad and scary thing was that she feared it actually could.

She was acting like a total coward and she knew it. She dreaded facing him, dreaded the idea of trying again, to make him see that marriage wasn't any answer. Not for them. That she just couldn't do that to him.

And really, it was kind of funny how even though she hadn't worked up the guts to confront Dax again, she now had no qualms about facing down her family—including her dad.

She had become beyond brave and take-charge when it came to them. Just the previous Sunday she'd gone to dinner at Bravo Ridge.

And she had told them all about the baby.

 

Of course, they'd all wanted to know where Dax was.

She barely got in the door before Ash, her oldest brother, said, “Sorry Dax couldn't make it.”

She went straight for the flat-out truth. “Well, since we're only speaking at the office nowadays, I saw no reason to invite him.”

Ash put his hand on her shoulder. “Sometimes love is…difficult.”

A small, sad laugh escaped her. “Tell me about it.”

“You'll work it out, I know you will.”

“Thanks, Ash. I hope you're right.”

Tessa, Ash's wife, stood beside him, holding their new baby, David Patrick, who had been born just a couple of weeks before. Zoe asked if she might hold the tiny boy.

“Of course.” Tessa laid him in Zoe's waiting arms. He scrunched up his tiny nose at her and wiggled his plump, perfect fists.

“So beautiful,” Zoe whispered.

“Yes,” Tessa agreed in the doting, tender voice of a brand-new mother. “He is.”

Before they sat down to eat, Aleta
and
Abilene both asked after Dax. Zoe told them pretty much what she'd told Ash.

They each started reassuring her like mad, that it would all work out, that everything would be fine.

She thanked them. And hugged them. And told them she loved them in a tone that made it clear she wanted to leave it at that—for the time being anyway.

At the table, as soon as everyone was served the main course, she tapped her spoon against her water glass.

“Everyone, I have an announcement I'd like to make.”

They all stopped eating and looked at her. Even the children stared. She hesitated. Was it appropriate, to say what she was about to say in front of the little ones?

Yes, she decided. It should be all right. Kira was the
oldest, at six, and still too young to really get what was going on. Plus, lots of kids were raised in single-parent homes. Kira herself had lived between her dad's house and her mom's until just the past January.

So Zoe went ahead and shared her big news. “I'm pregnant. Fifteen weeks along.” They all blinked in unison. Actually, the sight was kind of comical. “I know, I'm hardly showing.” She gave her mom a fond smile. “I guess I take after our mother that way. The baby is Dax's. Yes, he's offered to marry me. I turned him down. I just wanted you all to know that I love you and appreciate you. And you all need to get used to the idea that this is happening.” She looked squarely at her dad. “And you all are not, under any circumstances, to interfere. I am having a baby. I am going to keep it. And I am
not
getting married.” She had said
you all,
but she continued to stare only at her dad. “This is not a screwup, not some flaky, free-spirit, irresponsible act. We took precautions and it happened anyway. And now, well, I'm happy about it. I really am. I am quite capable of raising my child and it is my choice to do so. And if any of you have issues with my choice, I would appreciate it if you'd get them out in the open now, so we can deal with them and move on.”