Vegas Pregnancy Surprise (8 page)

Well. A one-word answer wasn’t the response she’d expected. She’d hoped to start a conversation, not bring one to a halt. How was she supposed to get to know her baby’s father if he threw up a wall every time she tried to get personal?

It wasn’t like she was asking for his social security number, just the basic kind of information people shared every day. Well, she wouldn’t give up that easily. She was a lot more persistent than a few short sentences.

“Do you have a brother? Or a sister? I’m an only child, but always wished I had siblings.”

“Harry said the new leopard shark exhibit is amazing,” Linc said instead. “That might not be as crowded. Let’s head over there.” He let out a gust of frustration as a large group of children—probably a field trip from one of those daycares he’d mentioned—crossed in front of them in a screaming bunch. “I’m not a big fan of…crowds like this.” He took her hand and zig-zagged through the maze of parents, strollers and three-foot-high bodies.

“I bet it’s a big difference from what you’re used to at work,” she said. “But, believe me, when you’re around kids long enough, they grow on you. You get used to the noise, the mess, the energy.”

Like you could get used to ours, if you tried. You’d love your own, surely.

“Well, that’s not something I’m planning on doing in my future.”

The statement slammed into Molly, and her step faltered.

Not planning on in his future.

Did he mean he didn’t want to have children? Ever? Or just for now?

What would he say if he knew she was carrying his baby? Would he tell her he wanted it? Or would he walk away? Her fingers splayed across her still-flat belly, and she decided she wasn’t ready to find that answer out. Not yet.

They emerged from the congestion of the main room into a smaller, darker room that faced one large tank, surrounded by a leopard-print frame. In the center of the tank of sharks sat a statue of a leopard, like an overgrown aquarium ornament. Linc chuckled. “Leave it to Harry to add a sense of humor to his exhibits.”

Clearly she wasn’t going to get anywhere with Linc, not in the area of personal topics. Either he didn’t want to open up because the aquarium was so crowded, or more likely he didn’t want to open up to her. Because that would mean developing a relationship, and he’d made it clear two months ago that he wasn’t interested in that.

Then, she’d been glad.

Now, not so much.

Because of the baby, she told herself. Only because of the baby.

And yet…she wondered why Linc would bring her here, if he had no interest in her on a personal level? Why ask her to go on what would be considered a date by most anyone else? Why work toward developing something with her if he wasn’t the kind of guy who wanted the full life, with a wife and kids?

She considered asking him. Thought better of it.

Lincoln Curtis was, after all, the exact opposite of the kind of man she wanted. Despite that one night, he was a man who lived by a schedule. Who, like her ex-husband, seemed to like everything in neat little rows and columns. After what he’d said tonight, there would clearly be no room in his life, either, for the messy chaos a child would bring.

She didn’t need that again. Nor did she want to get wrapped up in someone who had stated over and over that he wasn’t interested in children.

Been there, made the mistake. Got the T-shirt.

“Interesting fact about leopard sharks,” Molly said, taking a couple steps closer to the tank. Talking about aquatic animals was a much better topic than talking about them. Or the lack of them. “They don’t hunt, per se, but researchers have observed pairs of them swimming in the opposite direction of a school of fish. Each shark will take one flank of the school, just open their mouths, and eat to their heart’s content.” She turned to Linc and smiled. “Not a lot of work, but a lot of reward.”

“The fish don’t catch on?”

Her fingers danced against the glass. “That schooling behavior is pretty ingrained. Follow the leader…straight into the shark’s mouth.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like corporate life.”

She watched the sharks and thought about the world Linc inhabited. Was that what had made him so jaded against the idea of children? Or was it something else, something in his past? “That world is so different from teaching kindergarten.”

“Well, you’re smack-dab in Corporate America now.” He turned to her. “You never really told me what made you want to give up the world of small children—” he gestured toward the group of them now swarming into the room like a bunch of bees “—for corporate life? You could have just as easily stayed in San Diego and looked for another teaching job rather than coming out here to work for a software developer.”

“Even though I plan to apply for new teaching jobs for next term, I thought while I’m waiting it would be nice to try something new,” she said, treading carefully with her answer. Skirting as far away from the truth as possible. “And your proposal sounded really interesting.”

He paused to study her. “I’ve told a half a dozen people about that software program, and most of them told me I was crazy. That it was a waste of company resources and time.”

She shrugged. “I’m not a number cruncher like you are, but I think anything that inspires learning isn’t a waste of resources.” She gestured toward the children darting in and out of the room, their excited voices rising as they noticed the “dangerous” sharks. “Take Harry’s aquarium. It’s probably not the biggest money-maker in Vegas, but look around you. These kids are excited. They’re learning. And Harry loves this place. That’s a return on investment that you can’t measure by a profit and loss statement.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time, simply watched her. She grew uncomfortable under his inquisitive gaze, sure he could read her every secret. Then Harry’s voice came on the loudspeaker and announced closing time, and broke the tension between them. The room began to empty out, disappointed children reluctantly leaving.

“The children aren’t the only ones learning a thing or two,” Linc said quietly.

They were alone, the only sounds coming from the muted bubbling of the water in the tanks. Blue lights played across Linc’s features, making him seem darker, more mysterious, and giving his eyes an almost mischievous tint.

“Who else do you mean?” Her breath caught on the words.

He took a step forward, closing the gap between them. “Why did you really come to Vegas, Molly Hunter?”

She turned her face up to meet his. Opened her mouth to tell him the truth. Closed it again, unable to get the words past her throat.

“Was it because we had unfinished business?” he asked, his voice low and as dark as the room. He reached up, caught a tendril of her hair in his hand, then let it slip through his grasp. “Because I think we do, don’t you?”

She nodded, intoxicated, wrapped in his spell all over again.

Had she really ever escaped it?

No, she hadn’t, and she was fooling herself if she thought she had. A hundred times—no, a thousand times—since that night, she’d pictured Linc, imagined him kissing her again, thought of how his hands had felt on her body, remembered the electric feel of his body against hers.

Her breath caught, her heart raced, and she waited, her gaze locked on his. Waiting. Anticipating. Longing.
Wanting him.

He lowered his mouth toward hers, slowly, oh, so slowly, and she could see the future. Lincoln Curtis would kiss her. And she would do what she had done two months ago.

Fall for him.

And make the biggest mistake of her life.

Twice.

“I
THINK
I should go home,” Molly said, backing away from Linc, breaking the connection before their lips met. Before he could kiss her. Before anything could happen.

If anything sent a clear message about where she stood in relation to him, those six words did. For a moment there, he’d thought—

He’d thought she’d been interested in him. Clearly he’d read her wrong. “Certainly. We both have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

He should be glad Molly had put on the brakes before he’d kissed her and taken what wasn’t a relationship down a decidedly relationship-like path. Then why did disappointment sit like a stone in his gut?

“So, what did you think of my new babies?” Harry said, coming up to both of them. His thick, white hair stuck up in a shock, but his dark blue eyes danced with excitement and enthusiasm for his aquarium and his guests. “Beautiful, aren’t they? I’m thinking of adding some hammerheads in the fall. Set up a whole tool exhibit around them.”

“I love your aquarium, Harry,” Molly said, clearly glad for the interruption. “It’s really fun. A great place to bring kids. I can see why you have so many here—it’s chockfull of kid-friendly activities.”

He tipped an imaginary hat Molly’s way. “Why, thank you, miss. That’s my goal, to make this place, and my littlest guests, feel like family. I never had any children of my own, sad to say.” A shadow dropped over his face as his gaze swept across the expanse of the aquarium. “One of my biggest regrets in life. Waiting too long to get married, and being too busy to start a family. I got to enjoy this guy, though, as a kid. Him and his brother.” Harry shot Linc a grin. “I remember when you got your first chemistry set. Damned near blew up the neighborhood.”

“You bought me that for my birthday, if I remember right,” Linc said. “You encouraged that side of me.”

Harry chuckled.

Molly arched a brow. “Linc did that?”

“Oh, yes, with a little help from Marcus, I’m sure. Whenever those two boys were together, trouble was sure to follow. Linc, I suspect, was always the brains behind the operation.” Harry winked. “You guys gave everyone many a laugh when you were kids. Those were some good days.”

“Yeah, well, that’s in the past,” Linc said. “I’m too old for chemistry sets.”

Harry’s face softened and he put a hand on Linc’s shoulder. “I miss your parents, too, Linc. They’d be proud of you if they could see you today.”

Linc wondered if Harry would still say that if he knew the whole story behind Marcus’s death. How Linc had let his brother down at the last minute, not been the protective older brother he’d promised to be. All Linc wanted to do right now was leave—not take a trip down Memory Lane. “Yeah, uh, thanks, Harry. And thanks again for letting us in tonight. I’ll be back to see those hammerheads. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that. I miss seeing you. Be sure to bring your special lady, too,” Harry said, shooting Molly a smile. “And if you’re smart, my friend, you’ll get a running start on your own life before it’s too late.”

“Appreciate the advice, but I’ve got a company to run.” Linc clapped Harry on the shoulder.

“The company can run itself—”

“And my life can’t. I know, I know.”

Harry shook his head, muttered something about Linc being stubborn, then said goodbye to both of them. Once again, Linc pressed a light hand to Molly’s back as they exited the building.

This time, though, she remained stiff, unyielding, beneath his touch. As if she were angry with him.

For trying to kiss her? For something he’d said?

Everything within him wanted to ask, but he told himself it was better to leave the subject alone. Getting close to Molly would only bring them back to where they had begun. To reminding him of that temporary respite from his responsibilities. To making him want something he couldn’t have.

A family.

Tonight’s conversations with Molly had danced around the subject of children. When she’d mentioned how much she’d like to take her own child to Harry’s aquarium someday, two reactions had risen in Linc.

Worry. And envy.

Worry that she might be looking at him as a potential mate. He’d decided long ago that he was never going down the fatherhood path.

Never.

Following on the heels of the worry was an odd surge of envy. That she might someday do exactly that—with another man, and with another man’s child—bothered him more than he liked to admit.

He shoved the feelings aside. He couldn’t be envious of what he couldn’t have. Hadn’t that conversation with Harry just reminded him of the very reasons why he’d sworn off fatherhood? Better to stick to what he was good at than venture down a path he’d already failed once—

Being depended upon by those who loved him.

Outside, he hailed another cab. Once they were inside the cramped interior, Linc turned to Molly. “Listen, about what happened back there—”

“Don’t worry about it,” she cut in. “Neither of us wants to make another mistake.”

Was that how she saw that night two months ago? As a mistake?

The cab zipped down the streets of Vegas, as alive at night as they were during the day. But Linc’s mind wasn’t on the brightly lit businesses or the hundreds of people streaming in and out of the casinos and restaurants along the strip.

He was lost in memories of Marcus. Of the day he’d had to go to Marcus’s wife and tell her that the man she loved—the father of her children—had ended up in an early grave.

Because Linc hadn’t been there to stop it. Hadn’t kept his promise to be his brother’ s caretaker.

No, he’d been off enjoying himself on a vacation that was more of a week-long party. He’d been, in fact, too drunk to answer the phone when the first call came from Marcus. Had too many bourbons in him to do the one thing Marcus had asked—

Fill in on a conference call so Marcus could go to the doctor.

“I’m not feeling well, Linc. Yeah, yeah, I know. I can hear your lecture now.” Marcus had let out a short laugh. “But without you around to keep me on track, hey, I get all distracted by the fun project of the day. And today…” His voice had paused, strained, obvious pain in the next few words. “Just not feeling like myself.” He’d cursed, clearly hurting. “Anyway, uh, do me a favor, and take this meeting, will ya? Then get back to your vacation?”

Linc hadn’t gotten the phone call—instead he’d woken up an hour later and gotten the voice mail.

Too late.

And he’d been trying to make up for that day ever since.

The cab slowed to a stop in front of Hamilton Towers. Linc got out and held the door for Molly. As she passed by, he caught the scent of her perfume, and the resolve he’d solidified just a moment before crumbled a bit.

“Thank you,” she said. “I really enjoyed the aquarium.”

“You’re welcome.” They walked into the building together, and back to where they had started just a couple of hours before—the elevators and the two choices they presented. Send Molly home to her apartment, alone, or invite her up to his penthouse.

Linc didn’t issue the invitation. He pushed the button for up, and the doors opened almost immediately. Once inside, he turned to her. “By the way, I don’t think that night we met was a mistake.”

Her mouth opened in a tiny O of surprise. “You…you don’t?”

“Kissing you that night was…amazing. Wonderful. Something that I would do again in a heartbeat. If…” He let out a breath.

“If what?”

“If my life were different.”

“What does that mean?”

He’d opened a can of worms he should have kept shut. “Just that I’m not the settling-down type.”

“And who said I was? Or have you simply assumed you know everything there is to know about me?” She arched a defiant brow, then leaned against the wall of the elevator, her arms crossed over her chest. “So what happened to him?”

“Him…who?”

“The boy who almost blew up the neighborhood with his chemistry set? Because this Linc—” With that, she pushed off from the wall, and invaded his space and tugged at his tie. The bold, aggressive move caused his heart to accelerate. “This Linc seems to be all work and no play.”

“Oh, I play,” he said, his voice deep, almost a growl, his memories rocketing back to their wild night. Everything inside him wanted to kiss her, to take her in his arms again, to repeat it all.

Because he knew what she would feel like in his arms. Knew how her skin felt beneath his hands, knew the soft sounds she made when she was happy, and knew how she would curve into him afterward.

He knew it all—and as wrong as it was to want to repeat that night—

He wanted to. All the same.

“Good,” she said, and a mysterious smile curved across her face, “because I will hold you to that. Very soon.”

The elevator doors opened on Molly’s floor, and she slipped away, leaving him disconcerted, and wondering if he should go after her. Instead, Linc watched her walk away, then waited for the doors to close again. In moments, he was on the top floor, in his penthouse apartment. Alone.

And telling himself for the ten thousandth time that he had made the right decision. The only one he could make.

Molly flipped through the pages of the
Memories for Your Baby
journal she’d bought at a bookstore earlier that morning, and realized how few of the blanks she could fill in. She knew more about Lincoln Curtis’s occupation and company than what made him tick. She’d filled in what she could—father’s eye color, hair color, height—but the pages with “Earliest Childhood Memory,” “Favorite Food,” “Dreams for the Future,” and so many more, lay blank.

She’d had a peek inside Linc the man last night at the aquarium, but the moment had been brief, as if he’d wanted to be sure not to expose too much. Not to allow anyone into his heart.

She’d been in Vegas for several days, and had made plenty of progress on the software—

And little to no progress with Linc, except for the brief snippets of information she’d gleaned last night. Molly let out a sigh of frustration, thinking of all the pages that had yet to be filled in. How was she supposed to get to know the father of her baby? She couldn’t very well leave those pages blank. What was she going to tell her baby when he or she was old enough to start asking questions?
Go do a Google search on your dad?
No. That would never do.

She had to find a way to get Linc to open up. That was the only answer. The problem was how, without seeming like a stalker or someone interested in him.

Because she wasn’t. Not in the least.

Well, maybe not
entirely
.

She put the book into her tote bag, then pulled out a hand mirror and checked her appearance. Her gaze lighted on her lips, on the mouth Linc had almost—
almost
—kissed last night.

Until she’d stopped him.

Her fingers fluttered to her mouth, and her mind drifted back two months to the last time Linc had kissed her. The moment so thrilling, so incredible, it had chased all coherent thought from her head. How she craved another kiss like that. And another, and another.

But, oh, if she crossed that line again, where would that take her? Back down the same crazy path as before. No. She couldn’t do that.

She had a new priority now, one that didn’t involve a relationship with Lincoln Curtis. Back at the aquarium, he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in settling down and raising kids. He wasn’t even interested in children at all.

If that was so, Molly thought, as she put away the mirror and headed down the hall toward the R & D room, then why was he so invested in a software program directed toward children? It made no sense. Lincoln Curtis was a paradox, a man who presented one face one day, and another the next.

Which man was he? The one she’d met in the bar, the one she’d fallen for? Or the no-nonsense CEO with no room in his life for so much as a potted plant?

Molly pushed on the door to R & D and entered the room. “Good morning,” Molly said to Roy. “You’re in early.”

“I like being here when it’s quiet. No one around to interrupt me, no phones ringing. In an hour or two, this place will be swarming. Makes it hard to concentrate sometimes.” Roy put down his coffee cup and slid into the chair behind the computer. “We made good progress yesterday. Jerome is out sick, so I was thinking—”

“I’d like to work with Linc all day today,” she said, the idea forming as fast as the words left her mouth. Why hadn’t she thought of it earlier?

Roy’s jaw dropped. “Mr. Curtis?”

“This whole thing is his idea, after all. I think he needs to have more input than he has so far.”

“Uh, okay. Good luck with that,” he said. “Have you seen his schedule?”

“I have.”

“You do know that he lives and dies by those little blocks of time, right? Not to burst your bubble, Molly, but I’ve worked here for six years and I have never seen Mr. Curtis take so much as an afternoon off to go play golf, and he loves golf. He makes the rest of us feel guilty for calling in sick when we have the flu.”

But Linc had taken a couple of hours off the day she’d arrived in town. That told her he could be talked into the concept. And he’d once been the adventurous boy with the chemistry set. She fully intended to bring out that side of him again. That, she suspected, was the key to getting him to open up.

“We’ll see about that.” Molly grabbed her purse, then headed out of the room and up to the twentieth floor. She’d do this for the baby’s sake, she told herself. Not because she was curious. Not because every time she looked into his blue eyes her heart skipped a beat. Not because seeing him again had reawakened the nearly electric attraction she’d felt that night, and had her wondering about the Linc she’d met—the sexy, fun, engaging man who’d swept her off her feet. Literally.

Molly strode down the end of the hall. Because it was still early—barely past seven-thirty in the morning—many of the offices were still empty. Even Linc’s assistant hadn’t arrived yet. A light blazed in Linc’s office—not a big surprise—and Molly headed toward his door.