Married To The Boss (2 page)

With a deceptive calm, he added, “Since she's lied
about so many things, I'd be willing to bet Tanya is making every bit of it up. I doubt she's the mother because we have similar acquaintances and someone would have mentioned her being pregnant. And I can't believe I'm the father or she'd have been after me long before now, demanding I pay, if nothing else.”

“Which you'd have done.”

He gave one sharp nod of agreement. Oh, yeah, he'd have paid, all right, and more. “All I'm saying is that I want to be sure. I want proof.”

Dana touched his sleeve. “And until then you can't deny a thing. I understand. Is there anything at all I can do to help?”

R.J. found his first smile of the day. Though Dana was clearly troubled over the possibility that some of the gossip could be warranted, she still managed to be supportive. Outside of his family, she was the one person he'd always been able to count on, and having her trust now lightened his burden. “I should give you a raise, you know.”

She smiled, too, looking vaguely smug despite the lingering shadows in her eyes. “You just did two months ago.”

“Which obviously proves I'm an intelligent man.”

“I won't argue with you there.”

She touched him again, just the light press of her fingertips to his wrist, but R.J. felt an unexpected, almost acute pleasure from the small caress. The look on her face went beyond admiration and regard, bor
dering on something he'd never quite noticed before. He studied her expression before admitting he wasn't sure how to deal with it, or his reaction to that look. He felt an all too familiar tightening in his body—
for Dana?

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked again.

He was still caught up in wondering why she was suddenly affecting him this way. Thinking it through, he decided it could be because his thoughts and emotions had been thrown off base by all the outside turmoil surrounding the scandal. He was likely imagining things where she was concerned, or grasping at any safe line available. And Dana had always been very safe.

Either way, he didn't like it. He stepped away from her with the pretense of getting back to his desk again to eat the bagel. With a casualness he didn't feel, he said, “You've done more than enough, Dana, just by being yourself.”

After he said them, it struck him forcefully how true those words were. He twisted to look at her again, trying to decide what it was about Dana that made her so different, so easy to be with.

She wasn't an unattractive woman, he thought, taking note of the soft gray business suit she wore, which made her skin look very pale and luminous, emphasizing the vivid green of her large, almond-shaped eyes.

Her hair, a silky dark blond, was probably long, though he'd never seen it out of its elegant French
twist. He started to wonder further about her hair, trying to imagine it hanging loose, a sleek fall around her breasts. Quickly he drew his thoughts away from that direction and the heated images it conjured. He didn't want to be that curious about her.

Her features were pleasantly balanced, a slim nose, softly rounded cheekbones, a high, smooth forehead. Her ears, which he felt absurd for even noticing, were small and, as usual, adorned with tiny gold studs. Dana wore very little jewelry. In fact, she wore very little adornment of any kind. R.J.'s gaze skimmed her ringless fingers and her smooth throat, where he realized he'd never seen a necklace. She wore a simple white silk blouse buttoned to the top. There were no clasps in her hair, no bracelets on her delicate wrists, no bows or buckles or frills of any kind on her clothing.

If she wore any makeup, he'd never been able to detect it. But even without mascara, her lashes were slightly darker than her hair, a dusty brown, long and feathery. Her eyes, he decided, bordered on erotic, though he'd never noticed that before. Her lips, without the shine or color of lipstick, were soft and full and damn appealing.

His scrutiny apparently unnerved her. As he watched, her lips parted on a shaky, indrawn breath. His thighs tightened, and his eyes narrowed the tiniest bit in speculation.

When his gaze met hers, she blushed, not a dainty, pretty blush, but an amusing splash of color that made her skin glow and look heated from within. He
meant to tease her about what she was thinking, but swallowed the words instead. His own thoughts didn't bear close inspection, and teasing her about what was going on between them could affect their business relationship. That was something he didn't want, even if he was suddenly noticing things about her that he'd never noticed before.

What really drew him, he thought, feeling relief at the sound and reasonable revelation, was her almost eerie sixth sense of what he wanted and needed, and when. She was the perfect secretary, always one step ahead of him, and he intended to keep her solidly in that role.

Dana shifted slightly as the silence dragged on. “R.J.?”

“I'm sorry.” He turned back to his bagel and took a healthy bite. “My mind is a little preoccupied today,” he said after he'd swallowed.

The tension she'd felt could still be heard in her breathless tone, giving credence to his need for discretion. “No wonder. But it will all work out. You'll see.”

“I intend to make sure that it does.” He leaned back in his chair, watching her as he finished off the bagel. Silently, he admitted she was right about him being hungry. He'd just been too annoyed to realize it. “I've tried calling Tanya, but either she isn't answering her phone, or she's moved again. I didn't bother to leave a message.”

Dana flashed him a look of wry amusement. “Perhaps since she's fabricated this whole absurd situa
tion, she's decided it's best to avoid any confrontations. Especially with you.”

He nodded. “The more people she talks with, the better her chances of mixing up her story.”

Dana came hesitantly closer. “Have you considered explaining to the press that this is the first you've heard about Tanya's possible connection to that poor little baby?”

“Mother doesn't think it's a good idea, and since she's the CEO—and basically I agree with her—I'm deferring to her. For the moment, it's best if I keep the lowest profile I can. Tanya will trip herself up soon enough, especially with Chelsea Markum and ‘Tattle Today TV' helping her along.”

The phone on Dana's desk rang, and she glanced at the outer office with annoyance. “So in the meantime, it's work as usual?”

“I don't see that I have a lot of choice. Besides, I refuse to let those vicious witches or the nosy press totally disrupt our schedule.”

She hesitated a moment more, then hurried to the door. “All right,” she said on her way out, “but remember, R.J., if you need anything, anything at all, all you have to do is let me know.”

The door closed behind her with a quiet click, and R.J. leaned back in his leather chair, thoughtfully considering her words. Given the circumstances, it was a very generous offer. Anyone getting close to him risked being dragged into the limelight, as well.

But to be honest, he'd expected no less of Dana. In the years she'd worked for him, she'd been as
loyal and supportive as any person he knew. He could always count on her.

Which was why admitting the truth to her had been so important. He didn't think he was the baby's father, but on the off chance that at least that much of Tanya's story proved to be true, he'd wanted Dana to know about it up front. She deserved as much.

He hated the fact that she might have lost a modicum of respect for him. Having been abandoned himself as a child, and knowing his father to be irresponsible and uncaring, R.J. valued his reputation above all else. He'd always protected it with savage determination.

Seeing his integrity questioned in the press was painful enough. Having Dana doubt him would be unbearable.

D
ANA WAS
typing up correspondence for the day, getting ahead of herself before R.J. showed up for work in case he needed to talk. She wanted to be there for him in any way she could.

The last few days she'd gladly listened as he'd ranted and railed against the world. The press was having a field day with him, splashing the story across every newspaper in the state. He wasn't sleeping well, she knew, and her heart ached for him. That he needed her now both troubled and appeased her. She hated seeing R.J. in such an untenable situation, knowing how much he valued control. She'd gladly have done anything in her power to make things right for him.

But for the first time that she could recall, he needed her as more than a competent secretary, and her heart swelled with the satisfaction of being the one he turned to.

She'd loved him forever, it seemed.

Not that he knew of her love. Dana had far too much pride to expose her feelings like that. On the rare occasions when R.J. got involved with a woman, if fleeting affairs could be termed as involved, he'd gravitated to the type of sophisticated, sexy feminin
ity that Dana could never achieve. The women he was seen with were elegant and beautiful and confident.

They were everything Dana was not.

R.J. had always treated her with full respect for her abilities in the office, and he was generous to a fault, showing his appreciation for her dedication with raises and hefty holiday bonuses. He gave to her, but never in the way of a personal gift.

Not once had he looked at her as a man looks at a woman he desires. And she knew he never would.

As president of Maitland Maternity and a member of Texas's wealthiest families, R.J. was considered a prime catch. He had money, status and connections—all qualities that drew women in droves.

But Dana knew that even if he'd been dirt poor and unknown in the community, women would have flocked to his side. At thirty-nine, R. J. Maitland was a handsome man in the prime of his life.

He stood easily six feet two inches tall, all of him hard and strong and capable. He had broad shoulders and a lean physique that looked equally gorgeous in a formal tux or well-worn jeans. His hands were large and sure, and he possessed an innate virility that overrode his sophistication, making him seem almost primitive on occasion—just often enough to keep any woman around him slightly breathless and filled with anticipation.

Dana understood that feeling firsthand, because she'd been close to him for many years now as his personal secretary.

She closed her eyes and sighed, picturing him in her mind. R.J.'s straight sandy hair and probing hazel eyes set him apart from the other Maitlands, who tended toward darker hair and blue eyes.

Dana's love for R.J. meant she'd never even been tempted by another man, though there had been a few times when she'd tried. Dating had been a severe disappointment, and she'd long since decided it was easier to skip it altogether than to suffer the dissatisfaction of being held or kissed by a man she didn't want.

Talking quietly with R.J. about his problems, having him listen to her opinion helped soften the pain of his usual aloofness. Knowing he was upset and that she'd been able to make him smile for just a bit had filled her with conflicting emotions. She felt guilt for enjoying this time with him when he was so obviously burdened with frustration and rage. And she worried because no one could predict how this entire mess would be resolved, or how badly the Maitlands, R.J. in particular, might be hurt in the bargain.

R.J. was a man used to taking charge. In both his work and his personal life, he controlled the people and events around him. But always with a velvet glove, and with the best of intentions. In many ways, he controlled Dana, too, though she fought him on it often, and she knew he respected her for it.

However, in this instance, there was little he could do. He was virtually helpless against his former girlfriend's spite and the gleeful condemnation of the
press, and Dana knew how impossible that would be for R.J. to accept.

She also felt sick with the fear that he might prove to be that little baby's father. She didn't think she could stand it if that happened, but what could she do? She had no claim on him, and reality told her she never would.

Her thoughts were interrupted when R.J. stepped into the office, his face dark with anger after forcing his way through the crowd of reporters who'd been camping outside day after day.

Dana was on her feet in an instant, going to the coffee pot and pouring him his customary cup of sweetened coffee. She shouldn't have let her thoughts get away from her like that. Before she could finish, R.J. growled, “Have you seen the morning paper?”

His tone warned her it wouldn't be pleasant, and she turned warily. “No. I came in early to get some things taken care of. I haven't looked at the paper yet.”

R.J. tossed a section of crumpled newspaper on her desk. “There's an entire exposé in there on how wealthy Maitland Maternity president R. J. Maitland has deserted his poor pregnant lover. The suggestion is that I was more than willing to sleep with her, but walked away the second she found out she was expecting. They make me sound like the coldest bastard alive.”

The wash of anger took her by surprise. “Those vipers!” Dana set the cup of coffee down with a hard
thunk, and some of it sloshed onto the cabinet. She ignored the spill. Snatching up the paper, she quickly read the article, and her temper began to simmer. She felt fiercely protective of R.J., and the unfair way he was being treated was more than she could take. “This is awful—all speculation and innuendo. Pure slander. I think you should sue!”

In an uncharacteristic snit, she viciously wadded the paper into a ball and jammed it into the metal trash can.

R.J.'s brow rose. “I think you may be taking this worse than I did.”

Hearing the sudden amusement in his tone, she whirled to face him. “How can you joke right now?” She was nearly strangling with outrage on his behalf, easily imagining how that report had made him feel. “They're saying terrible things about you!”

The minute the words left her mouth, she wished them back. R.J. cared a great deal about his reputation; Dana, who watched him give everything he had to the clinic, knew that better than most. She'd learned long ago that R.J. had been abandoned by his father, Robert, after his mother's death. He and his little sister, Anna, had been adopted and raised by Robert's brother, William, and William's wife, Megan.

William and Megan had loved R.J. as their own son, but R.J. still suffered over the shame of knowing he'd been discarded, left for someone else to raise. He worked hard to prove he was different from his
disreputable father, and Dana understood the toll the gossip was taking on him.

Her heart ached, but she knew better than to approach him, to try to hold him. R.J. didn't want that from her. He was satisfied that she be his assistant—so she'd always been the best one possible.

Scrubbing at his face, R.J. turned away. “They're not cutting any corners, I'll grant you that. Every new story gets a little uglier, with a little more speculation thrown in.” He muttered a curse just under his breath and shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. When he faced Dana again, his eyes were glittering dangerously. “Fifty invitations to the party have been returned with lame excuses.”

“You mean people are giving their regrets.”

“I mean people are bailing out, plain and simple.”

The party, scheduled for March, was to celebrate Maitland Maternity's twenty-fifth anniversary. Five hundred invitations had gone out, and the event was supposed to be a huge success. But now, with invitations being returned… “What are you going to do?”

“I'm not certain yet, though Mother has a few ideas.” There was a fleeting smile on his mouth. “She loves that baby, you know.”

Dana nodded. Megan Maitland was a friend, and one of the most generous women Dana knew, both with money and with her heart. She had created Maitland Maternity Clinic, with her husband's blessing, out of a need to help all pregnant women, rich or poor. Because of the caring atmosphere Megan
cultivated, the clinic in Austin, Texas had quickly become world-renowned.

The family had been announcing the anniversary party to the press the day the baby had been discovered. The timing couldn't have been worse, with so many cameras and reporters already on hand. Megan had shielded the infant as much as she could, and at that moment she'd started to care for him. Dana smiled softly. “I knew when she was given permission to take the baby home as a foster mother, she'd get emotionally involved.”

R.J. gave a brief nod. “I think if the note hadn't been there, claiming the baby was a Maitland, she'd still have felt the same.” He worked his jaw a moment, then added, “She has in the past.”

“Yes.” Dana wondered if R.J. was thinking about his own circumstances, or the other children Megan had cared for. But R.J.
was
Megan's son, even if Megan wasn't his birth mother. “She's a very special woman.”

“That she is.” R.J. tilted his head, and another rare smile touched his hard features. “And speaking of special women…” He withdrew a long velvet box from his inside jacket pocket.

Dana stared at the box. “You bought Megan a gift?”

This time R.J. laughed, startling her with the sound of it. R.J. was rarely given to moods of joviality. A workaholic, he took life seriously and molded it to suit him. That didn't leave a lot of room for laughter, and lately, there'd been no reason for it at all. “When
I said a special woman, I was talking about you, Dana.”

“Me?”
Her voice squeaked, and she quickly cleared her throat. “What—?”

At her surprise, R.J.'s expression warmed with masculine satisfaction. He stepped closer to her. “Dana, you've always been the perfect secretary, taking care of things before I can even tell you what needs to be taken care of.”

“You would expect no less from an employee.”

His smile widened. “True. But these last few days you've gone above and beyond the call of duty.”

Dana stared at him wide-eyed, her heart thumping heavily in her chest, her legs feeling suddenly weak. He held the box out to her, but she pressed her hands behind her back to avoid touching it. “I don't understand.”

She knew she sounded a bit panicked, but she was so afraid to think more of the gesture than what it really meant. She didn't want to do or say anything awkward, anything to make herself look foolish or make R.J. regret—

R.J. reached behind her and caught her hand, drawing it forward. Rather than giving her the box, he enfolded her fingers in his own. Dana felt the incredible heat of his touch, the roughness of his fingertips and palm proving he was more than a desk jockey, that he enjoyed working outdoors and using his hands. He was strong and rugged and thoroughly masculine. She grew warm from the inside out, her
skin flushed, her pulse racing with excitement and anticipation.

R.J. moved his big thumb over her knuckles and smiled. “I've been in a black fury all week, thanks to Chelsea Markum. With her promise of a five-thousand-dollar reward, she's practically begging for frauds and trumped-up lies, knowing people will do damn near anything for a lump of cash. I've been made to look like the center attraction in a three-ring circus.”

Dana forced aside her own misgivings and nervousness to curl her fingers around his, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

His hazel eyes, glittering with intent, stared into hers. “People who've known me forever are starting to wonder just how accurate the gossip might be.”

“That's not true…” she started to say, but R.J. tugged her just the tiniest bit closer, and she swallowed the denial.

“Yes, it is. None of them trust me right now, but you've never wavered.”

“Of course not.”

His smile this time was self-mocking. “You've made it all bearable, Dana, and I want you to know how much I appreciate that.”

She didn't want his appreciation, but what she did want, she couldn't have. “I know you too well to suffer doubts about your character, R.J.”

His expression tightened for one timeless moment, then she felt the velvet box placed in her hand. “I want you to have this.”

Thinking she finally understood the gesture, she shook her head. “It's not necessary.”

“I know.” Some vague emotion flickered in his eyes before his dark lashes dropped to hide the expression. “That's why I got it for you.”

With a smile of pure giddy delight, she carefully opened the box, then drew in a startled breath of wonder. Inside, nestled in more velvet, was a dainty, exquisite emerald and diamond pendant. It wasn't ostentatious, but tasteful, the green stone perfectly cut with a border of small shining diamonds, hanging from a delicately woven gold chain.

Dana swallowed, unsure what to say as she stared at the jewelry. She'd never had anything like it. Her mother would have claimed it was wicked, particularly since it had been bought by a man. But then, her mother had hated any type of artificial decoration. She'd taught Dana that proper women didn't indulge in such frivolous advertisement. Her mother thought it looked tacky, and as she'd explained to Dana many times, the artificial beauty wouldn't do her any good. Dana would simply end up looking ridiculous.

As a plain woman, she was best off just accepting her appearance, rather than making a fool of herself trying to improve upon it.

R.J. leaned down to see her face, his brows lowered slightly in a frown. “You don't like it? You can exchange it for something else…”

Oh, God, she liked it
so
much. “It's…it's beautiful.” The words were forced through her tight
throat. What did the necklace mean? Anything? Nothing? Would such an exquisite piece of jewelry look out of place on her?