by Kat Cantrell
During her five years working at New Century Tech, she had completed an MBA at Emory. She was definitely overqualified for the job she now occupied, however working as Nathaniel’s executive assistant paid extremely well. Not only that, but watching him operate in the business world, learning from him, was invaluable experience.
Time moved on. People did, too, or they stagnated. It made perfect sense to extract herself from the temptation of a possible affair with the boss, and even more sense to pursue opportunities that would advance her career.
Unfortunately, all the pep talks in the world didn’t make it any easier to do what she knew she had to do.
A couple of weeks ago—as soon as she emailed the first batch of job applications—the guilt began. NCT was a great place to work. Nathaniel had been a phenomenal boss from day one. Maybe she was jumping too soon.
Still, something was beginning to change, ever so slightly. She didn’t think she had betrayed her intense fascination. Even so, she was getting a vibe from Nathaniel recently that was more personal than business.
Or maybe it was the mistletoe and her overactive imagination. If those feelings were real, she was in trouble.
A commotion on the far side of the room derailed her wistful thoughts. The maroon and navy drapes had been drawn before the party to shut out the gray December day. The heavy cloth panels, festooned with lighted garlands, gave the room a festive feel. Just now, someone had peeked out and received a big surprise.
A rain/snow mix had already begun to fall. The usually crowded thoroughfare in front of the building was alarmingly empty. Though local snowstorm forecasts were often disregarded because of one too many near misses, apparently this one might be the real deal.
Nathaniel assessed the situation in a glance and acted with his customary confidence.
“Let’s wrap this up, folks. Unless some of you want to spend the holidays sleeping at your desks, I’d suggest you head for home ASAP.”
He didn’t have to tell them twice. It was Friday on a holiday weekend. A number of the staff had saved vacation days so they could be off until after the New Year. Suddenly, there was a mass exodus.
As Dani watched, Nathaniel said a quiet word here and there, making sure that anyone who was impaired ended up in the charge of a designated driver.
In half an hour, the room was empty except for Dani and the boss, who stood in the doorway saying a few last goodbyes. Without thinking about it, she began to tidy the tables. Fortunately, there was not much food left. She chucked it all in a large trash container and stacked the trays. New Century Tech used a nearby catering company for all their events.
As she began folding the soiled tablecloths into a neat stack, Nathaniel startled her by speaking from behind her shoulder.
“Leave that alone,” he said abruptly. “That’s not your job. The janitorial staff will take care of it in the morning.”
Dani turned slowly and lifted an eyebrow. “If the snow does what they’re saying it will, I doubt anyone is going to go anywhere anytime soon.”
“That’s a lot of anys,” he teased.
“Well, I’m right,” she grumbled. “Besides, nobody wants to look at this mess when it’s three or four days old.”
“Do you honestly believe the storm is going to be that bad?”
The Weather Channel was headquartered in Atlanta. Dani knew the forecasters by name. At one time in high school, she had actually thought about going into meteorology as a career.
“They say it’s possible. Moisture is riding up from the Gulf of Mexico and colliding with the cold air. Even when the snow tapers off, we may get ice on top.”
Nathaniel grimaced. “That sounds lovely.”
His sarcasm made her grin. “Look at it this way. We only get hammered a few times a decade. Apparently, we’re overdue.”
“Well, in that case, shouldn’t you be getting out of here?”
“I’ll catch the six-thirty train. I’ll be fine.”
“What if they shut down the system?”
For the first time, a trickle of unease slid through her veins. That thought had never occurred to her. Her car was parked at a commuter lot four stops north. What was the likelihood she’d be able to drive home even if MARTA took her where she needed to go?
This time, riding the elevator up and back down was more about expediency than anything intimate. While Nathaniel grabbed what he needed from his office, Dani shrugged into her coat, tugged on her boots and adjusted the strap on her purse so she could use it as a cross-body bag. She wanted her hands free to hang on to stair rails if necessary.
Outside, the city was eerily quiet. The snow was heavier now, blanketing buildings and muffling sound. Nathaniel cursed quietly beneath his breath when he saw the conditions. “I’ll drive you to the train station,” he said, his tone brooking no opposition.
“Thanks,” Dani replied, not even bothering with a token protest. On a normal day, the half-mile walk was pleasant exercise. Under these conditions, she’d never make it in time, not to mention the fact that she’d be a frozen mess.
New Century Tech’s main parking facility was a three-level garage attached to the back of the building. For VIPs, a private side-street lot big enough for a dozen spaces provided easy access and the assurance that no clumsy drivers would back into a high-end vehicle.
Nathaniel drove a shiny black Mercedes with all the bells and whistles. Dani had been inside it only once, when she and the boss had gone together across town to present a proposal to a clothing firm seeking to update their online presence and ordering capabilities. Today, when they rounded the corner of the building and spotted Nathaniel’s car—the only one in the lot—she had a sinking feeling that Nathaniel’s offer of a ride had been premature.
The Mercedes was coated with snow, and there were no marks on the ground. Either the various vice presidents had parked in the garage today, or they had left long enough ago for the storm to cover their tracks. Something about the solitary car looked odd.
Nathaniel was the first to respond. “What the hell?”
He jogged the last few feet, Dani close on his heels. They stopped abruptly in tandem. Dani blinked. “Is that a car seat?” she asked, her voice rising an octave in disbelief.
Nathaniel lifted the wooly blanket covering the oddly shaped lump. “Good God. It’s a baby.” His head snapped around, his gaze scanning the immediate area. The blanket was peppered with tiny bits of snow, certainly not enough to indicate the child had been there more than a few minutes.
Dani, too, peeked under the blanket and gasped. An infant, maybe six months old, slept peacefully in a baby carrier. The child was covered from head to toe in a fleecy one-piece snowsuit, but even so, the temperatures were dangerously cold.
“Call 911,” Nathaniel said, his voice as icy as their surroundings. “I’m going to look around. Whoever did this must be close. My guess is they’re watching us to make sure we retrieve the kid.”
Dani was afraid to unfasten the straps and take the baby out. The heavy carrier was offering at least some protection from the elements. As long as the baby slept, he or she must not be terribly uncomfortable. The snowsuit was pink. Dani took a wild shot that the child was a girl. The baby’s cheeks were a healthy color. Her chest rose and fell at reassuring intervals.
Hoping she was doing the right thing, Dani removed her gloves and dialed the authorities.
* * *
Nathaniel was pissed. He’d received several texts in the last few days from a number he recognized all too well, offering veiled threats. Never in his wildest imagination had he imagined something like this happening to him. The escapade had his ex written all over it.
Ophelia wasn’t actually an “ex” anything. Nathaniel had met her at an in-town conference over a year ago and spent two nights in her hotel bed. That had been the end o
f it. Or so he thought.
He’d used protection. No way in hell was this baby his, despite what Ophelia’s rambling emails had insinuated. If she had ever come right out and accused him of fathering her child, Nathaniel would have secured a lawyer and taken the necessary steps to pinpoint the baby’s paternity.
He stood in the shadow of his own building, covered his eyes to keep the snow out of them and scanned windows near and far. Damn it. Ophelia could be anywhere. What was she trying to pull?
At last, he gave up his futile search. Dani stood where he had left her, one hand resting protectively on the edge of the car seat. “I found a note,” she said, holding it out to him. “I read it. I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have.”
Nathaniel unfolded the elegant card with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. The contents were much as he had expected:
Dear Nathaniel:
I cannot care for our baby right now. You’re my only hope. When I get my life back together, we’ll talk.
Yours always,
Ophelia
He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, trying not to overreact. Women had tried to trap men with this ruse since the beginning of time. He’d done nothing wrong. He had nothing to fear.
Crushing the note in his fist, he shoved it in his pocket and opened his eyes to find Dani staring at him with a stricken expression.
“It’s not mine,” he insisted. “I went out with a crazy woman a time or two. She’s trying to blackmail me or something. I don’t know. What did the police say? How soon can they get here?”
Dani hunched her shoulders against the wind. “They weren’t very encouraging. The snow is causing pileups all over the city.”
His heart pounded in his chest. “What about the foster care system? Surely they can send someone.”
“Do you really want to entrust a baby to a stranger on the Friday afternoon of a long holiday weekend? Most foster families are wonderful, but you hear horror stories...” Dani trailed off, her expression indicating that she was upset. Maybe with the situation. Maybe with him.
“Fine.” He sighed. “What exactly do you think we should do?”
“We?” She stared at him as if he had grown two heads. “I’m walking to the MARTA station. If I’m lucky, my route will still be open.”
Atlanta’s transit system was only partially underground. Unlike other major cities, Atlanta did not have enough snow-removal equipment to deal with a weather event of this size. Blizzards were so rare the expenditure would be wildly extravagant.
Nathaniel’s palms started to sweat inside his gloves. “You can’t go yet,” he said. “I need help.” The words threatened to stick in his throat. He wasn’t a man accustomed to needing anyone. Dani wasn’t just anyone, though. He was counting on her soft heart and her overdeveloped sense of responsibility to sway her.
“What exactly do you think I can do?” she asked. Her eyes held a mix of dubious suspicion and the urge to run.
Nathaniel recognized the urge. He felt it in spades. “You’re a woman. Help me get the kid to my condo. Let’s get her settled. After that, I’ll call a car service to take you home.” Without waiting for an answer, he unlocked the car and leaned in to toss his briefcase on the back seat.
Dani thumped him on the shoulder, hard enough that he jerked and hit his head on the door frame. “Ouch, damn it. What was that for?” he asked, whirling around.
“Are you crazy?” Dani asked. “You can’t drive around with an unsecured infant carrier, especially with snow on the ground.”
In all his emotional turmoil over realizing Ophelia had dumped a baby in his lap, Nathaniel had lost track of the weather. Now he blinked and focused on the world surrounding them. The snow was at least two inches deep already and showed no signs at all of letting up. “Good God,” he said weakly. “This is a nightmare.”
Had he said that last bit aloud? Maybe not. Dani wasn’t giving him any more of those disapproving looks. Instead, she huddled miserably against the side of his car, using her body to keep the falling snow from reaching the baby.
“We’re out of options,” he said, his brain whirling like a hamster on a wheel. “I’ll put the seat belt around the carrier. My condo isn’t all that far. Three miles. Come on. The longer we stand here, the colder we’ll be.” Without waiting for his unflappable executive assistant to protest, he retrieved the infant carrier, covered it with the blanket and scooped it up.
Holy hell. How did new mothers do this? The thing felt like it weighed fifty pounds.
Strapping it into the back seat was an exercise in frustration and guilt. To be honest, he half expected Dani to turn around and trudge away in the opposite direction, heading for the train station and home. But she joined him in the car.
The wave of relief he experienced was alarming. Was he honestly that afraid to be stranded alone with a baby, or did the idea of spending time with Dani outside the office hold a certain appeal?
She was a very attractive woman always, but today—dressed up for the office party—she exuded a warm, sexy charm that made him want to forget every one of his self-imposed rules.
Though it probably wasn’t wise, he took one hand off the wheel and loosened his tie. Having Dani sit so close to him tested his patience and his self-control.
New Century Tech was located in a trendy section of Atlanta known as Buckhead. Elegant glass office buildings stood amongst quirky restaurants and specialty shops selling everything from expensive watches to high-priced real estate. Nathaniel’s penthouse condo offered him the privacy he demanded along with an unparalleled view of the city.
Unfortunately, today’s drive was not going to be easy. Though he managed to back out of the parking space and exit onto the street, he felt the tires slip and slide beneath him. He barely managed to avoid sideswiping a fire hydrant.
With his eyes on the road and a firm grip on the steering wheel, he focused on the objective at hand. Reach his condo. Rest and regroup. What he hadn’t expected was to have Dani tug at his arm several blocks before their destination. “Stop,” she cried. “That one’s open.”
That what?
At her insistence, he eased the car off the road and parked beside a chain drugstore. She didn’t pause to explain. Before he could protest, she was out of the car and headed inside. With a shrug, Nathaniel retrieved the baby and followed Dani into the store.
The kid still slept. Had it been too long? Was she unconscious? His stomach knotted. What the hell did he know about babies? Even a bad foster family might be better than what Nathaniel had to offer.
Every inch of the infant’s body was covered except for her rosy cheeks. Still, she wasn’t wearing high-tech fabric rated for low temperatures. The little girl might be cold. How would he know?
Just about the time he had worked himself into a frenzy of doubt and frustration, Dani reappeared, her triumphant smile a blow to his stomach that took his breath and squeezed his heart.
Was he simply damned glad to have her help, or was the prospect of spending time with Dani enticing him to do something stupid? Every logical cell in his brain shouted at him to send her away. He was fine. He could cope.
Besides, though it was true he wanted Dani, he didn’t “want” to want her. As long as he kept that in mind, he’d be okay. Despite his confusion and the alarm in his gut, he didn’t tell her to go. That was undoubtedly his first mistake.
Somewhere, she had found a shopping cart. It was loaded with diapers, wipes, formula and bottles. He stared at the bounty of baby supplies, incredulous. He’d been so focused on getting the kid to his condo, he’d never even thought about the fact that he had nothing—zero—with which to care for a child, especially one this small.
If this were a test to see what kind of father he would make, he was already failng miserably.
Copyright © 2017 by Ja
nice Maynard
ISBN-13: 9781488011924
One Night Stand Bride
Copyright © 2017 by Kat Cantrell
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
