by Donna Alward
“Getting to know each other. We’re doing what we would have done if we’d met here, gone out on dates like a normal couple.”
If they’d done things in the predictable order, he meant. If they hadn’t hooked up and jumped instantly into bed. If there had been no consequences to their poor judgment...
Consequences.
“Stop thinking,” he suggested, running a hand down her arm. “Just for a little while. Just stop and let yourself be.”
The arena was dark and he pressed up against her, just lightly, but enough that her body came alive at every point where they touched. His lips teased hers, soft and warm as he melted against her. She could feel the hard planes of his body against her skin, through her shirt, and she lifted a hand, running it under the soft cotton and over the warmth of his taut ribs.
Holy smokes, he was firm and muscled and she felt the way his breath caught beneath her fingertips. The pressure against her mouth intensified and he shifted, moving one hand over her shoulder, down her collarbone to cup her breast in his hand. The pressure felt so good she rolled into it a little, knowing they should stop but not wanting to at all.
His hips came flush with hers and she felt the evidence of his desire.
“You still do this to me,” he murmured, cradling her face in his hands, kissing her in between snatches of words. “I don’t know why, or how. You kill me, Lizzie. Come home with me tonight.”
“What about keeping things simple?”
He shook his head, but she could see the intense look in his eyes despite the dark shadows. “We’ll never be simple, Liz. I’m starting to realize that.”
He kissed her again, turning her knees to jelly. She’d always been one to keep her head about her when it came to men. Never lost sight of her goals or priorities. Why was Christopher Miller so different? Why did he seem to have special sexy powers where she was concerned?
“Not your motel room,” she disagreed. “Not like before. Come to my place. Just this once. Just to...scratch this itch we can’t seem to get rid of.”
He didn’t answer, just lifted his head enough that she could see the fire blazing in the dark depths. Then he took her hand in a firm grip and led her from the arena.
Apparently the tour was over.
Chapter Eleven
Sunlight filtered through the cracks of Lizzie’s blinds and she squinted against the glare, opening one eye just a crack to check the clock beside the bed.
Seven-thirty.
She should get up. She was usually ready to leave for the office by now if she wasn’t there already, getting ahead of the big rush on the DART that took her right downtown. This morning there was another warm body beside her in the bed, though, and she hadn’t gotten up and snuck away like she had the first time they’d been together.
Chris lay beside her, flat on his stomach, his face turned towards her on the mattress and the sheets pooled around his hips.
He was naked under there. And damned if the idea didn’t hold more allure than it should.
“Enjoying the view?” he asked, without opening his eyes and her cheeks flamed.
“How did you know I was watching you?”
His eyes were still closed but a smile crept up his cheek, popping a dimple. “Trade secret.”
He opened his eyes and braced up on his elbows. “Good morning, by the way. What time is it?”
“Seven-thirty.”
“Hmm. I think we’re both running late.”
“Seems like.”
He rolled to his side and under the covers, found her hip with his fingers. He kneaded gently. “You okay?”
Sometimes he was so considerate. “Yeah, I’m okay. You?”
He grinned. “You have to ask? I’ve been thinking about that since the first morning when I woke up and you were gone. You can’t believe my relief to find you still here this morning.”
“You thought about me...that way?”
“Are you kidding?” His eyebrows went up. “Of course I did. I planned to ask you out again except you took off and I really didn’t know where to find you.”
His fingers continued to knead at her hip. “Liz, I’m not a one-nighter kind of guy. I’m starting to think that fate maybe had a little part in bringing us together.”
What surprised her was how she wanted to believe him. Over the past few weeks she’d found herself thinking not about visitation schedules and a congenial coparenting relationship, but what it would be like to be...closer. Wondering if they could make it work between them. She hadn’t had a serious relationship since she’d started working full-time. The few dates she’d been on had been with men more interested in her last name than in her.
But Chris hadn’t even known her last name. And yesterday he’d said he’d liked getting to know her better.
“So,” he said, leaning in, “let me ask the question I would have asked almost three months ago. Where do we go from here?”
She blinked. “You’ve got to understand. I’m afraid that if we start something, and it doesn’t work out, that it’ll make things unbearable when the baby comes.”
“Honey, I think we’ve passed the ‘start something’ stage.”
She couldn’t help it, her lips curved up just a little. “Ha ha. But you know what I mean, right?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He propped his head up on an elbow.
“You wouldn’t have moved to Dallas if I hadn’t gotten pregnant,” she pointed out.
“I might not have stayed with AB at all,” he mused. “Part of my year off was to decide what I really wanted to do. If I even wanted to be an engineer anymore.”
Her heart sank. He’d made life changes for her unborn child and big changes at that. How could they possibly make it work? She could just imagine a year, two years, five years down the road. Would he blame her for him being stuck in his job? Resent her? He’d deny it now, she knew that for sure. But it was a long time to spend in a job you didn’t like.
“You could still change your mind.”
“Working in my current job is the best way to provide for my kid,” he said simply, and she got it. It was pride. She had her own fair share and so did her father.
“Okay,” she said softly. “But what about us?”
He reached out and brushed a piece of hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. “We could take it slow. Do you think you could be open to...exploring whatever is between us?”
Open to it? She was already contemplating it. “I think I might...if we laid out some ground rules.”
He smiled again, and pushed himself up into a seated position, the comforter resting loosely at his hips. “Ah, yes. The rules. Very important.”
She nudged his arm, silently chastising him not to be a brat. She ticked off items on her fingers. “We take things slowly,” she began. “We both reserve the right to back off at any time if it’s not working. We agree to keep things friendly no matter what.” She looked into his eyes. “We put our baby first in all things.”
His gaze clung to hers. “I can live with all those conditions.”
“You can?”
A slow smile lit his face. “Of course I can. I would have suggested the same.” He looked at the comforter, which she just realized had slipped a little, revealing the rounded curve of her breast. “We might have already goofed at the going slow part, though.”
“Well, it’s not like we have to worry about me getting pregnant,” she quipped, pulling up the comforter.
“Nope,” he said softly, leaning closer. He pulled down the bedding, revealing the top half of her body and she shivered all over, both from the cold air but mostly from anticipation.
“Christopher,” she warned, but the word was infused with as much desire as it was caution.
“I bet you’re neve
r late for work,” he murmured, nuzzling at her neck until it was hard for her to breathe.
“Not usually,” she managed to say, trying her best to stay immune.
“Today could be an exception.” He smiled against her skin.
His fingers were doing mad, wonderful things under the covers and she gave up. “I could go in late one day,” she relented, her head dropping back as her agenda for the day fluttered clean out of her head.
Chris chuckled, then pulled the covers up over them both.
* * *
THE WORKDAY WAS well underway when Lizzie straightened her jacket and stepped out of the elevator. For the first time, she realized she’d decorated her condo in a similar way to the offices—lots of black, chrome and white. It was professional-looking and impressive, but it didn’t have a lot of personality. Even the orchid at the main reception desk was white and in a black lacquer pot. The overall feel was rich and efficient but it wasn’t friendly or comfortable.
Damn Chris and his comments about her condo. Had she been so busy working that she’d unwittingly brought the office into her own home?
“Good morning, Ms. Baron,” the receptionist greeted, and Lizzie smiled at her.
“Good morning.” She went farther into the office, back to her office with the window overlooking the Dallas skyline. Maria, Brock’s secretary, popped up from her chair as soon as Lizzie passed by her desk.
“Lizzie. It’s nine-fifteen.”
“Sorry I’m late.” Lizzie smiled. “Are there messages?”
“Messages?” Maria’s brows went up as her lips dropped open in dismay. “Lizzie, you had an eight-thirty meeting with Mark Baker.”
Shit shit shit. The words ran through Lizzie’s head as she halted in her tracks. “Is he still available?”
“I’ll check. But he’s not happy and you know what he’s like.”
“Looking for any opportunity,” Lizzie agreed, her stomach twisting in knots.
“I tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up.”
She hadn’t because her cell had gone dead last night and she hadn’t had time to charge it before leaving for the train. “Give him a quick call and tell him I’ll meet him in my office...no, in Dad’s office. In ten minutes. And I’d love a cup of herbal tea.”
Maria gave a crisp nod and Lizzie felt doubly bad. “Maria?”
The woman turned back and Lizzie tried a smile. “Thank you. For everything you’ve been doing lately. I couldn’t manage this without you and Emory.”
“Keep your chin up,” Maria advised, her posture softening just a little. “Mark’ll try to bully you. Don’t let him.”
Lizzie grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
She made sure she was ensconced in her father’s plush leather executive chair and had taken a revivifying sip of hot tea when Mark strode into the office, looking like Mr. GQ in an impeccably tailored suit, not a hair on his blond head out of place.
“Sorry for the confusion, Mark. I appreciate you changing your schedule.”
“Anything for the boss,” he replied, taking a seat across the desk from her. “How’s your dad?”
“Doing well,” she replied, picking up her tea and trying to look relaxed. Mark Baker didn’t like her. She knew that. It didn’t help that he was the football all-star guy with the thousand-watt smile and a near-perfect GPA. She’d worked hard to find perfection and never really found it, so seeing it across the desk from her was plenty intimidating. “I had dinner out at the ranch last night. He’s not used to taking a backseat for this long, but we talk every night about what’s coming up. No surprises that way.”
Translation: you’re not just dealing with me here.
They spent twenty minutes going over the latest figures, changes to the operational budget that made her head spin, and when her eyes were starting to glaze over, he tapped his reports together, put them to the side and pulled out another file.
“I thought you should see this,” he said, handing over a sheet.
She picked it from his fingers and stared down at numbers and a graph. “Our stock?” She looked up at him. “We knew it would take a hit when Dad was hurt. Yes, the stock price went down but less than we expected by a couple of percentage points.”
“The press release was a good idea,” he conceded. “And as much as it pains me to admit it, having someone with the last name Baron step into Brock’s place was a good move.”
“So what’s your issue?” she asked, her stomach growling. She’d had a bowl of oatmeal and fruit that Chris had insisted she eat before leaving for the office, and already she was hungry again. With a bit of a start, she realized that this was the first morning in several weeks now that she hadn’t been sick at all.
“Look at it again,” he instructed.
“What am I looking for?” She felt stupid asking it. “I see that our stock price has rebounded a bit since the accident. That’s good, right?”
He took the paper back and clicked on his pen, circled a spot, and handed it back.
“Trading activity?”
“Someone’s buying up stock, and getting it at a pretty good price. Normally that would be a good thing, but something twigs me the wrong way about it. Considering our position right now, and the fact that after your dad’s accident, people were selling off their stock...this is too big a volume to be coincidence.”
“Are you sure?”
He gave her a long, cool stare. “No, I’m not sure. But it was enough of a jump to raise a red flag for me.”
“Why would someone do that?”
He sighed. “Because we’re vulnerable? Because they have insider information? I can’t know for sure. If it’s a publicly traded company, they have a while before they have to divulge their purchase to their stockholders.”
She forgot about his smugness for a moment. “What are you really thinking, Mark?”
“I’m thinking someone wants a piece of Baron Energies. And they’re hoping that their purchase of our stock will go unnoticed because we’re not focused at the moment.”
But he was focused. For all his faults, Lizzie knew one thing. Mark Baker was very, very good at his job.
“Thanks for bringing it to my attention.”
“That’s my job,” he answered. “And I’ll stay on top of it, keep running the numbers, see what I can find out. Maybe it’s nothing, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“What can I do?” She swallowed her pride and met his gaze. “What should I do?”
He frowned. “Lizzie, you know I didn’t support the idea of you sitting in the driver’s seat.”
“I know you don’t like me....”
“It’s not that at all.” His blue eyes met hers directly. “This was the reason. You’re great at the human resources area, a whiz with manpower. You’re good with the press. You’re a great face for the company—a young, successful, independent woman from a strong family. But this side of things? This isn’t your strong suit and we both know it.”
Ouch. His assessment stung even if she secretly believed he was correct. “That’s why I’m surrounded by people who are all brilliant in their areas of expertise. That’s why I trust them.”
He smiled a little. “Right. I got the message.”
“And I got yours, Mark. I know we’re not besties or anything, but I’d like to think we both have the best interests of Baron at heart.”
“Me, too. Do you want me to talk to your father about this?”
“No.” If she were going to sit in the big-girl chair, she needed to do the hard work. “I will.”
“Fair enough. I’ll keep you posted.”
“I’ll be here.”
He closed his file and got up to leave. He was halfway to the door before he turned back to face her. “Lizzie?”
“Ye
s?” She put down her pen and looked up.
“When you turned me down before...why did you say no?”
She blinked. It was the last thing she’d expected him to ask, and she wasn’t sure how to answer. In the end she figured honesty was best. “Because you were too sure of yourself. Cocky. Like you’d be doing me a favor.”
He smiled, an arrogant upturning of his lips that showed perfect teeth. “So I would have,” he replied, sliding one hand into his trousers pocket.
Lizzie couldn’t help but grin back because she could tell now that he was teasing. “Yeah, well, there’s a difference between confidence and arrogance. One’s sexy. The other...not so much.” She thought back to Chris and his quiet assertiveness and knew which she preferred. “But,” she conceded, “you’re a very good CFO for Baron so I’ve forgiven you for being a bit of a jerk.”
He laughed then. “Sitting in the big chair has made you more sure of yourself,” he observed. “Your dad better look out. You might get comfortable sitting there.”
Except in just under six months she’d be going on maternity leave. “I don’t think there’s any worry about that.”
He was just turning to leave when there was a knock on the door. “Lizzie?” Emory poked her head in. “There’s someone here to see you.”
She stepped aside and Chris walked through the doorway, carrying a white paper sack and a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of daisies.
She was surprised, and pleased, too. Chris’s answering smile lit up the office and Mark looked from one of them to the other. “Well. That explains a lot,” he remarked, still smiling a little. He held out his hand. “Mark Baker.”
Chris shifted the paper bag into his left hand with the flowers and shook Mark’s hand. “Chris Miller. Nice to meet you.”
“I’ll let you two catch up. Lizzie—let me know how it goes with your father.”
“Will do. Thanks, Mark.”
Mark left and Emory shut the door behind him, leaving Chris and Lizzie alone. “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”
