by Metsy Hingle
She met his eyes, registered his concern. “I’m not on the pill.”
Justin’s gaze shifted from her face to her abdomen, then back to her eyes. “You…if we…” he whooshed out a breath. “If there’s a baby because of last night, you have my word that I’ll take full responsibility for you and our child.”
It had never occurred to her that Justin would be anything less than honorable. But as much as she loved him, the last thing she wanted was a relationship with him based on obligation. Feeling far too vulnerable with only the sheet as protection, Kim reached for the robe lying on the floor beside the bed. She slipped it on and walked over to the window and stared out at the blue sky.
“Kim?” Justin said from behind her. He turned her around to face him. “I meant what I said. I’ll take care of you and the baby if there is one. So please don’t worry that you’ll be alone, because you won’t.”
“I know that. And I’m not worried. Really I’m not. Last night…well, it was a safe time for me. The chances of my getting pregnant…well, they’re slim.” She fibbed and prayed it was the truth.
“Slim or not, it’s still a possibility,” Justin reminded her. “In the future I promise to be more responsible about using protection.”
Talk of pregnancy and the future stripped away any illusions she’d harbored, and sobered Kim as nothing else could. She knew in that moment that she could never settle for an affair with Justin, and an affair was all that he was offering. “Actually, I’m not sure continuing this is a good idea.”
Justin dropped his hands from her shoulders. “What are you saying? You said you didn’t regret last night.”
“I don’t. Last night was wonderful. But it wasn’t smart for either of us. I think the wise thing to do is forget last night ever happened.”
Justin’s eyes hardened. “I’m afraid that isn’t going to be possible. You see, I made love with you last night—not just a warm body. And contrary to what you obviously believe, I don’t just hop into bed with a woman and forget about it. Considering the fact that you were a virgin until last night, I know damn well it’s not something you do on a regular basis, either. So don’t insult both of us by insinuating that last night didn’t mean anything. Because it did.”
“Of course it meant something to me,” she retorted. Moving past him, she pressed her lips together tightly and blinked hard to keep back the tears burning behind her eyes. When she had regained control of herself, she turned to face him. “I care about you, Justin. And it’s obvious that I’m attracted to you. That we’re attracted to each other.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is that sooner or later an affair has to end. And when it does, things can get messy.” She held up her hand when he started to speak. “I love my job. I love working with you. Having an affair would jeopardize that.”
“How?” Justin asked.
“Because when the affair’s over, it would be impossible for us to go on working together.”
“Who says it has to end?” he argued.
“It would.”
He moved closer, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I care about you, Kim.”
Kim’s heart ached because she knew what he said was true. He did care about her. He just didn’t love her. And it was his love that she wanted. “Then don’t ask me to risk losing what I value most—your friendship and my job. Because that’s what I’d be doing. Can’t we just go back to the way things were before last night?”
“Is that really what you want? To forget last night ever happened?”
“That’s what I want,” she said, even though she knew she would never be able to forget last night or how much it had meant to her.
“All right,” Justin said, and there was such desolation in his voice, in his eyes, that for a moment Kim thought she might actually have hurt him. “I’ll try to do what you’ve asked.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I said I’d try. That doesn’t mean I’ll succeed.”
“I understand,” Kim replied.
“Then you should also understand that if you’re pregnant, all bets are off. And there’s no way you’ll be able to keep me out of your life or our baby’s life.”
Everything Kim had said made sense, Justin reminded himself as he sat at the dinner table at his parents’ Lake Shore home more than a week later. The fact that he and Kim worked together made a romantic involvement between them potentially messy. One of the larger textile importers in the country, Connelly Corporation was like a small city unto itself—which meant people talked—and among their favorite topics was the Connelly family members and their personal lives. So a personal relationship with him would only subject Kim to gossip. He didn’t want that.
No, a boss-employee relationship simply wasn’t smart, Justin told himself again. For proof of that fact he had only to look to his brother Seth and the slights he had suffered because his mother had been Grant Connelly’s secretary. Kim had been right to call a halt to things between them. She’d been right to insist they forget about that night at the cottage and what had happened between them. That was why he had respected her wishes, done what she’d asked and firmly closed that door.
And it wasn’t working worth spit.
Disgusted, Justin closed his fist around the stem of his wineglass and admitted the truth. He hadn’t been able to forget a minute of that day and night he’d spent with Kim. He couldn’t look at her without remembering how beautiful she’d looked by firelight with her hair flowing down about her shoulders like silk, with her head tipped back and her cheeks flushed, with that look of utter wonder on her face as she’d ridden him. Nor could he forget how soft her skin had felt, how she had trembled when he’d touched her, how perfectly her body had fitted with his. And if he lived to be a hundred, he didn’t think he would ever be able to forget how sweet her lips had tasted or the way he had felt when she’d climaxed and cried out his name.
Dammit! Justin slammed down his glass on the table. This business of pretending nothing had happened between him and Kim wasn’t working.
“Is there a problem with your wine, Justin?”
Justin yanked his gaze to the end of the table at the sound of his father’s voice, and only then realized that everyone at the table had gone silent. All eyes were fixed on the glass he held in a death grip. A quick scan revealed he had come dangerously close to spilling wine on his mother’s lace tablecloth. “No, sir. The wine is fine,” he told his father and to prove it, he took a sip of the merlot. “I’m sorry. My mind was somewhere else.”
His father frowned, deepening the creases in his tanned face. “You’ve seemed distracted quite a lot lately. Is there a problem at the office?”
“Nothing I can’t handle, sir.”
When his father started to pursue that line of questioning, Emma Connelly placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “Leave the boy alone, Grant. If Justin said it’s nothing to worry about, then there’s nothing to worry about. We have more pressing problems than Connelly Corporation.”
Justin knew at once that his mother was referring to the assassination attempt on his brother Daniel several months ago. Noting the worried expression on his mother’s face, Justin felt a rush of guilt that he’d been so wrapped up over his own dilemma concerning Kim that he’d barely given his older brother’s situation a thought. So he paid attention now when his mother focused her sad blue eyes on his brother Brett’s wife, Elena, who had been the police detective called in to investigate the attempt on Daniel’s life.
“Elena, dear, I know this isn’t the appropriate time or place, and it probably goes against your regulations as a police detective, but can you tell me if you’ve been able to turn up anything new in your investigation?”
“I’m afraid not. While we’re sure whoever tried to kill Daniel was a pro, so far we haven’t been able to come up with any solid leads on who contracted the hit. I’m sorry. I wish I had better news.”
Grant t
ossed down his napkin and leaned forward, a forbidding expression on his face. Despite his sixty-five years, there was no mistaking the determination and presence of power he wore like a mantle. His father still possessed the same air of invincibility that had enabled him to found the Connelly dynasty, Justin thought. “This is taking too long. I want the person or persons responsible for trying to kill my son found,” Grant informed his daughter-in-law.
“That’s what we all want,” Elena told him, and Justin gave her credit for not flinching under Grant’s granite gaze. “This case has been given top priority, Grant. We’re doing everything we can to find them.”
“We know you are, dear,” Emma said, taking some of the sting out of her husband’s words. “Don’t we, Grant?”
His father covered Emma’s hand that lay on his sleeve. When he looked up again, his steel-gray eyes had softened. “Yes, we know you’re doing everything possible, Elena. I’m sorry if I sounded like I believed otherwise. I just don’t like knowing that there’s someone out there who’s willing to go to such lengths to eliminate one of my children.”
“I understand,” Elena told him.
“Find out who’s responsible and stop them, Elena. Please.”
“We will,” Elena promised. She slanted a glance to her husband, Brett, who sat beside her, and Justin tried to decipher the look that passed between them. “I was going to wait until tomorrow to tell you this in my official capacity, but I don’t see any point in waiting now. Because of my pregnancy and the direction this case is taking, I’ve decided to turn the investigation over to a colleague of mine named Tom Reynolds and his partner Lucas Starwind.”
“Is there anything wrong with the baby?” Emma asked.
“No. But Brett and I don’t want to take any chances,” Elena explained, and Justin recalled his brother telling him that prior to this pregnancy, Elena had suffered two miscarriages.
“These detectives—Reynolds and Starwind—are they as good as you?” Grant asked.
“Tom’s first-rate. He’s the one who showed me the ropes when I joined the police force. I’d trust him with my life.”
“And Starwind?” Grant prompted.
“Him I don’t know much about. But he’s Tom’s partner, and according to Tom he’s good. Real good. And that’s a direct quote from Tom, who’s known for being flat-out stingy when it comes to handing out praise,” Elena explained. “I have every confidence that between the two of them, they’ll find out who’s behind the attempt on Daniel’s life.”
“Then we’ll trust them to put an end to this nightmare, too,” Emma declared. “The important thing for you is to take care of yourself and our future grandchild.”
“Don’t worry, she will,” Brett offered. “I’ll see to that.”
Justin stared at his younger brother and Elena, saw a look pass between them. He’d seen that same look before between his parents and grandparents—an unspoken communication that signaled they were one. Justin’s gaze dropped, and he noted the way Elena’s and Brett’s joined hands rested on her swollen stomach.
Once more Justin’s thoughts turned to Kim, and he recalled his shock upon realizing they had used no form of protection that first time they’d made love. Despite Kim’s claims, there was a possibility she could be pregnant with his child.
And if she was?
The idea didn’t shake him nearly as much now as it had earlier. All right, he told himself. He’d tried things Kim’s way, and it wasn’t working, for either of them, if those dark circles he’d seen under Kim’s eyes meant anything. So maybe it was time to try things his way.
Eight
“Working late again, Kim?” Dina Dietrich asked as she stood at the elevator with several other members of the clerical staff who were leaving for the day.
“Just for a few minutes,” Kim replied, and silently cursed her luck. Another five minutes and she would have missed Dina. While she got along well with most of her co-workers, there were a few females who were much too catty for her taste. And Dina Dietrich was the worst. Ever since she had lost out to Kim on the position as Justin’s assistant, she never missed the chance to make some snide remark or try to embarrass her in front of the other employees. “As soon as I finish up these memos for Mr. Connelly, I’ll be on my way.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize that Justin still expected you to call him Mr. Connelly,” Dina said, the sly look in her eyes belying her innocent tone.
Kim bit back her temper at the innuendo—one of several she’d endured since Robert Marsh had “accidentally” mentioned that she had gone sailing with Justin. From what her friends had told her, Marsh’s spin on the bachelor auction was that Kim had emptied her savings account to make the winning bid. According to Marsh, the reason Kim seldom dated was because she’d set her sights on marrying rich. And who fit that bill better than a Connelly? The sailing date was supposedly the first step in her grand scheme to land Justin. Despite Marsh’s denials when she’d confronted him, Kim didn’t doubt for a minute that he was behind the gossip. The tale had made her the center of office scuttlebutt for more than two weeks. And a prime target for Dina. Determined not to take the bait, Kim kept her voice level and said, “No, he doesn’t expect me to call him Mr. Connelly. I do so out of respect since he’s my boss.”
Obviously aware that she was playing to an audience, Dina made a show of scanning the area for eavesdroppers before lowering her voice conspiratorially and asking, “Come on, Kim. You don’t really expect me to believe that you spent the weekend with the man and didn’t even call him by his first name, do you?”
“The truth is, Dina, I don’t really care what you believe,” Kim said, gripping the files she held tightly to stop her hands from trembling with anger. She met the sultry brunette’s green eyes. “But if I were you, I’d think twice before spreading gossip about Justin Connelly. While you may find it amusing to make insinuations about my reputation and character, I doubt that the Connellys would find it amusing if they were to discover you’ve been making disparaging innuendos about one of its family members. Someone who not only happens to be a vice president of this company, but who also happens to be your boss.”
For once Dina remained speechless. And had the floor not been carpeted, Kim was sure she would have been able to hear a pin drop. The ding of the elevator, announcing its arrival, echoed loudly in the silence. Choosing that moment to make her exit, Kim said, “Have a good evening.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed for her office.
Once she was alone, all the fury she’d held in check came rushing to the surface. Kim slapped the folders she’d been holding on top of her desk. It was all Robert Marsh’s fault, she fumed. She curled her hands into fists at her sides. For two cents she would gladly wring the man’s neck. Feeling as though she was about to explode, she closed her eyes and silently counted to ten in an effort to calm down.
When counting to ten didn’t work, she started over and went to twenty. Twice. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. She ran through the numbers again in her head, but to no avail. It wasn’t helping. Frustrated and still angry enough to chew nails, she kicked her chair, pretending it was Robert Marsh’s head.
Kim yelped as pain radiated up her leg, and she grabbed her foot.
“You have a disagreement with the chair?”
Kim nearly groaned at the sound of Justin’s voice behind her. Feeling like an idiot, she released her aching foot, and turned to face him. “My foot slipped,” she offered, unable to come up with any reasonable excuse for pounding on the company’s furniture.
While he didn’t call her on the fib, he slanted a glance downward to where she was rubbing her aching toe against the back of her calf. “You probably bruised your toe. Why don’t I have a look and—”
“No,” Kim fired back, and retreated a step. Swallowing past the panic, she said more calmly, “I mean, my foot’s fine. Really. If you’re looking for those memos on the Genome Project, I have them right here for your signature.” Turning away fr
om the questions in his hazel eyes, she retrieved the file folder containing the transcribed memos from her desk. Then she handed it to Justin.
He hesitated a moment. There was something sad and vulnerable in his expression before he took the folder she offered. “Thank you,” he said, and retreated into his office.
For several moments Kim stood there, staring after him. That couldn’t have possibly been hurt in Justin’s eyes when she’d shied away from him, could it? No, she told herself. More than likely it was disappointment because the great sex—or at least she thought it had been great—would not be repeated. And if she felt some disappointment of her own at the decision, she reminded herself it was best to end things now. Otherwise she stood a good chance of falling into that hopeless trap of believing that Justin might actually love her someday the way she loved him. She’d spent too many years watching her mother spin dreams of happily-ever-after only to come crashing down when they didn’t happen. She wouldn’t put herself through that same torture. No, it was best to deal in reality. And the reality of the situation was that she and Justin were not going to happen. Besides, she had enough on her plate now without adding impossible dreams to it.
Kim glanced at the open calendar on her desk and felt that tiny flutter of panic. She was now nearly three weeks late for her menstrual cycle—and she’d never, ever been this late before. She worried her bottom lip and recalled the fib she’d told Justin about it being a safe time for her. She prayed her words wouldn’t come back to haunt her.
“Kim, I have a few more minor changes,” Justin said as he came up behind her. “I’d appreciate it if you’d make them before you leave.”
“Be glad to.”
“And when you’re finished, I’d like to take you to dinner. If you’re free this evening.”
“Thanks, but I’m afraid I already have plans for this evening.” So maybe doing her laundry wasn’t exactly what he thought she meant, but she did have to do it.
