A Nine-Month Temptation

by Joanne Rock

  The stranglehold on his chest eased. “Should I pick you up at the studio?”

  “That would be great.” Her lips curved slightly. Not a real smile like he’d glimpsed before, but at least he was grateful that he’d have more time with her tonight.

  They could get on the same page about the future and what this baby meant for them. As long as he could keep the feelings he had about the pregnancy separate from the red-hot attraction he still felt toward Sable, he’d be fine. He could indulge the latter without threatening the vow he’d made to stay true to his wife’s memory.

  One day at a time. It was the only way he knew how to move forward after life had stolen everything precious to him.

  * * *

  “Great work today, Sable.” Marcel Zayn stood in front of an antique mirror near the loft’s elevator, putting on a dinner jacket. “I hope you snapped some images for your look book. I already posted a few candids on the Instagram page. The clothes and concept really worked well together.”

  Sable hugged the praise close to her chest as she put the last few sample garments back on the rolling rack. A new digital magazine had done a focus piece on Zayn Designs, and Marcel had okayed a photo shoot of their own to overlap the time the reporter was on site so they had some control over the images that would run with the story. They worked hard to leverage as much content as possible out of opportunities like today’s, and Sable appreciated the designer’s generosity in giving her credit.

  “Thank you. We lucked out with the models. They really got on board with it.” Sable had suggested a few poses, and the models had been so comfortable with each another. Their chemistry had resulted in a great shot of the male model untying the ribbons on the back of the woman’s dress.

  No mystery where she’d gotten the idea for that sexy sequence of shots. She probably owed Roman a creative credit.

  Marcel laughed as he tugged his shirtsleeves to the perfect length underneath the jacket. “You think? There were sparks flying all over the place. It was so damned steamy to watch I ended up calling Parker for a second date.” His phone chimed in his pocket while he was refastening a French cuff. “That’s probably him now.”

  He stepped onto the elevator when it arrived. Sable watched him, noticing the resemblance between the designer and Roman in the way they moved with athleticism and grace.

  “Night, Marcel.” She was relieved Roman hadn’t crossed paths with his brother since it was almost seven now. She’d asked Roman to keep the baby news quiet, but she wasn’t sure where they stood in regard to letting other people know they occasionally...dated?

  Hooked up?

  Hell, she didn’t know where they stood with one another, so no wonder she wasn’t sure how to explain it to anyone else. Add to that the taboo factor of an intern dating the CEO, and she really wasn’t ready to draw attention to it.

  That was one of many reasons she’d been wary about spending more time with him. It was not like the attraction had dimmed since they’d torn off their clothes and feasted on each other all night long. Even today during her appointment, when she’d been stressed and anxious, she’d felt the tug of awareness for him. What would it be like tonight when they were alone over dinner?

  Especially now, with the memories of that sexy photo shoot that had her reliving every second she’d spent in this studio with Roman ten weeks ago? She’d basically memorialized it by having the models reenact the encounter—up until the clothes came off, of course—in the photoshoot today. She allowed her fingers to walk from one hanger to the next on the rolling rack in the quiet studio, lingering on the dress she’d worn that night with Roman.

  How would she put those thoughts out of her mind once she met Roman tonight? Her focus needed to be on the practical matter of sharing parenting duties, not remembering all the ways he could take her to extraordinary sensual heights. She couldn’t afford to lose focus on what was most important.

  Not with a baby at stake.

  The thought had her returning to her bag and taking out the printed ultrasound image from the doctor’s office. Studying the profile of her baby’s face had her spine straightening, her shoulders braced for the weight of the world. Because she’d take it all on for the sake of that heartbeat she’d heard today. So strong and fierce.

  The memory was precious, the moment unforgettable. And it was made all the more so by the fact that the man beside her had seemed as blown away by it as she’d been. Roman had gripped her hand tightly when the sound of the heartbeat had filled the exam room. She’d glimpsed his face, and there’d been a moment of raw emotion there. Deep. Complex. Hope and awe, but perhaps tinged with a hint of regret?

  She’d looked away fast, feeling like she’d seen something overly private. Personal. He’d made it clear afterward he’d viewed the strong heartbeat as a reason to celebrate, but she couldn’t shake the sense that there was more to it than that for Roman.

  Still, whatever he felt about her pregnancy, at least he’d been there with her. That was more than she could say about her ex-husband, whose work had always trumped the doctor appointments he viewed as Sable’s responsibility. She respected Roman’s desire to be there. Admired it. And yes, she’d been glad to share something momentous with the only other person who had as much connection to this tiny life as she did.

  A moment later, the elevator doors reopened with a soft swish and she slid the ultrasound photo back into her bag.

  Even before she saw Roman, her body hummed with the sensation of being watched, her skin tingling and the hair at the back of her neck lifting.

  “Sable.” His voice rubbed over her like a touch, the low tone giving her goose bumps.

  She wished she could write off the reaction as pregnancy hormones, but it had been the same exact way as that night they’d spent together. Right here, in this same spot.

  Memories crowded her as he drew closer. He’d changed clothes since the appointment. His hair was still damp around the collar of a black button-down as if he’d just showered. The gray pants he wore had a subtle weave, and his loafers were casual. He looked good enough to eat. She wanted to drift closer, guessing he smelled even better.

  But she had her priorities straight now, and she wasn’t going to waver on them.

  “Hi.” She reached for her coat, which was hanging on one of the rolling racks of the clothes she’d used for the photo shoot. “You didn’t have to come up. I could have met you downstairs.”

  He was instantly at her side, taking over the task of settling her coat on her shoulders, sliding her hair out from under the collar so that it fanned out over her back.

  “From now on, whatever I can do to make your life easier, Sable, I will.” He turned her around, and she was suddenly facing him while he wrapped one side of her coat over the other before tying the belt at her waist. “Get used to it.”

  The gesture was both intimate and sweet, accelerating her pulse and making her feel cared for at the same time. And, just as she’d suspected, the scent of him—like woodsmoke and pine—only made her want to lean into him.

  “Where are we going?” She retrieved her bag, moving away from him to collect herself.

  “It’s a surprise.” He returned to the elevator and pressed the button, then lingered by the rolling rack where the clothes from the shoot were lined up on hangers.

  With an unerring eye, he zeroed in on the dress she’d worn the night they’d been together. While he waited for her to shut down the lights, he slid his thumb and forefinger over one long ribbon. The hanger swayed gently in the wake of the movement.

  Sable was pretty sure she did, too.

  The elevator doors slid open.

  “Ready?” he asked, turning dark eyes on her when she hesitated.

  Was she ready for more time with this charismatic man who turned her inside out? She should be resisting him. But for practical purposes, she had to plan a way forward
with Roman so they could raise a child together. She could ignore her hormones for a couple of hours to engage in what amounted to a business dinner, couldn’t she?

  It wouldn’t be easy. But she owned her choices, and she would be the mother her baby deserved.

  “I am.” Reaching his side, she stepped into the elevator. “Let’s go.”

  Five

  “How are you feeling?” Roman asked Sable on the short drive from his brother’s studio to their dinner destination.

  He’d told himself that it was just as well that she’d declined his lunch invitation since it had given him more time to work on his game plan with the woman seated next to him. After her ultrasound, he’d been both elated and gutted at the reality of becoming a father, and he ran the risk of letting too much slip in front of Sable. He wasn’t going to begin their co-parenting relationship while she thought he wasn’t fully on board with raising a child.

  Now he’d had time to lock down that unruly knot of reactions so he could make this evening 100 percent about her.

  “I’m not as tired today as I have been the last couple of weeks, so that’s a win.” She gave him a small smile, her dark hair trailing over one shoulder. She’d tied it with what looked like a fabric swatch, the ends of the red velvet unfinished and fraying.

  “No morning sickness?” He still resented that he’d been late for her appointment and hadn’t heard the full dialogue with the physician.

  “None so far.” She sounded relieved about that as the vehicle rolled to a stop in front of the Madison Square Park Tower. She glanced up and down the street around the granite base of the soaring sculptural glass building. “We’re eating here?”

  “I ordered in for us in case you wanted to put your feet up,” he explained. “I know you had a busy day preparing for the photo shoot, so I had the concierge coordinate a restaurant delivery. Although it’s not too late to do something else if you prefer.”

  “No. That sounds great, actually.” She picked up her purse while he exited the vehicle.

  After helping her down, he released his hold on her hand, wanting her to be at ease. If he had his way, he would have been touching her every second since he’d set foot in the design studio, but this wasn’t about him. He needed her to feel comfortable with him.

  “Did you find everything you needed for the shoot?” he asked as he led her past the door attendant and into the elevator that would take them to the fiftieth floor.

  “I found all I wanted and then some.” Her soft drawl lingered over the words like a caress, a smile teasing around her lips. “Marcel was really pleased with how it all came together and we got a lot of great images.”

  “Are they posted on the social media accounts yet?” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “I checked about an hour ago, but I didn’t see an update.”

  “You did?” She sounded surprised. “I mean, it makes sense you’d follow the account. I just didn’t know how much of your professional time was devoted to the design house since you’ve only been in the studio a couple of times.”

  He paused in the middle of scrolling to meet her gaze. “That was in deference to you, Sable. I was trying not to make you uncomfortable with how much I wanted—how much I still want—you.”

  She swallowed, her legs shifting beneath her dress in a way that sent a growl up the back of his throat. He only just barely managed to suppress it, but he did because that was not what this night was about.

  Even if pregnancy had made her all the more irresistible, with deeper color in her cheeks and added curve to her breasts. He’d noticed the changes earlier at the doctor’s office. He wondered what other subtle things he would notice about her body if he had the chance to explore it more thoroughly.

  The elevator door opened on his floor, providing a much-needed distraction from the temperature spike between them. Still clutching his phone, he gestured the way to his door and let her in.

  “And, to your point,” he added, hoping to pick up the thread of their conversation before he mentally undressed her anymore. “I spend about one quarter of my time on Zayn Designs, running the business side so Marcel can concentrate on what he does best.”

  He took her coat from her, careful not to linger over the body he wanted to touch so badly. Sable seemed to be on the same page since she quickly darted away to check out the view through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room while he turned his attention to the catering bags on the marble kitchen counter.

  “Your place is really nice,” she observed softly, her white shirtdress reflecting a blue glow from lights near the clock tower visible at 1 Madison Avenue. “Did you just move in? I remember you were staying at the studio last time you were in town.”

  He ground his teeth at the reminder of the only time they’d shared a bed. “Our father owns this apartment. He was in Manhattan at the same time as me two months ago, so I chose not to stay here. But he doesn’t use this space often. He and my mother are in London for the next six weeks, so there’s no chance we’ll run into them here.” He withdrew a platter from the warming drawer beneath the oven and carried it to the dining table that bridged the kitchen and living room in the open-concept layout. “But I’ve already looked at a few other places around town since I’ll need something of my own.”

  “You’re moving to New York?” she asked quickly, clearing away a pewter bowl that was a centerpiece on the table, making room for the food he carried.

  Was it his imagination or was there a hint of panic in her voice?

  “Not full-time.” He kept his answer casual, returning to the kitchen to bring in the catering bags, plates and silverware. “Zayn Equity is based on the West Coast, so I’ll maintain a presence in Los Angeles. But you’re in New York, and so is my firstborn, so it makes sense to maintain a home base here.”

  She turned away to retrieve the two glasses he’d left on the kitchen counter, and her face was momentarily hidden. When she returned, her gaze was trained on the table, prompting him to check in with her.

  “I hope that’s not a problem,” he said, taking the glasses from her and setting them on the table. It was killing him not to just wrap her in his arms and offer her the undeniable physical connection they shared. But since he knew they couldn’t solve their deeper problems that way, he withdrew her chair for her instead.

  “No. Of course not.” She took the seat he offered. “I’m just not sure that I can afford to stay in New York once the baby arrives. Even if I can find work here, I’ll need to move out of my current apartment since it’s intended for women launching careers in creative fields, not working mothers.”

  He took that in—along with the obvious tension she felt about the situation—and hoped to distract her with the meal before resuming the topic. These were issues he knew damn well he could solve if she’d allow him. For now, he pulled out the containers from the catering bags and poured two glasses of water from a chilled bottle.

  “Dig in,” he urged as he took the seat across from her. “I didn’t know what you’d be in the mood for, and I wanted to be sure there was something you’d like, so I ordered a little of everything.”

  “Oh, wow,” she murmured as she raised the silver lid on one of the dishes, revealing an assortment of pastas. “This looks delicious.”

  “And I’ve got some chicken options over here.” He lifted the lid on the dish closer to him to show her. “The bread is in there.” He unwrapped a tea towel from a basket, then began to fill his own plate. “Do you mind telling me what you had planned for work after the internship if you hadn’t gotten pregnant?”

  “I counted on Marcel’s connections to keep me working as a stylist in New York for at least another year or two so I could build my network and my reputation.” She slid some fettuccine, chicken and tomato slices onto her plate as she spoke, and it pleased him inordinately to see her eat. To know he’d fulfilled a need for her when she wa
s carrying his child. It made him all the more certain he wanted to do more. “After that, I would have tried to make the leap to working in Hollywood, dressing celebrities.”

  “So don’t leave New York for the baby’s sake if you’ll want to resume working here eventually. Take a sabbatical to give birth and see how you feel. Come back in a year when you’re ready, and you’ll be able to pick up where you left off.”

  She laughed. “Spoken like a man. A wealthy man, at that.”

  “Is that so?” He wasn’t accustomed to his input being dismissed.

  Perhaps his frustration came through in his voice because she straightened in her chair and met his gaze.

  “Yes. Because I’m not asking you to solve my problems for me. And even if I had solicited your advice, there are subtleties you’re not taking into account.”

  “So let’s talk through them.” He pushed the breadbasket closer to her, wondering how he could convince her to let him help. “Figure out a plan.”

  “Okay. First of all, it would be difficult enough to finance a year off even if I return to Baton Rouge. But I’d never be able to afford it in New York.” She paused to take a sip of her water, and he noticed how the skyline behind her had turned fully dark through the wall of windows. “Furthermore, my life will change radically once a baby arrives. I’m not sure I’ll even continue chasing my professional dream once my priorities shift to accommodate a child.”

  Her words tugged at a memory, an old conversation with Annette about having a family and what it would mean to her. How she wanted to stay at home to finger-paint and run the sprinkler in the backyard so their kids could play in it on hot afternoons. She’d been so certain of what kind of mom she wanted to be that she’d made Roman able to envision it, too.

  That sting of disloyalty jabbed him again, but he forced himself to ignore it to focus on Sable.

  “You’re right.” His jaw felt stiff when he spoke, making him realize he’d been grinding his teeth, gnawing on the past. “You deserve more time to figure out what works best for you. Why don’t I look for a bigger space so you can move in with me for a year?”