by A. P. Jensen
“Glad I don’t have morning sickness and terrified of telling Peter. I’m kind of nervous about the party. I have no idea what to expect.”
“You’ll be fine.”
Emma wore a loose top with a blazer and jeans on her drive to Seattle. She kept going over how she would tell him. She couldn’t think of any intro to ease him into the idea. Since they had the party tonight, she figured tomorrow would be the best time to tell him since they had the whole day together. This was the first time she was going into his world. She could see how he was at work, where he lived. She had no idea what to expect.
She pulled into the garage of Peter’s building. The uniformed guard was expecting her and directed her into a stall beside Peter’s BMW. She grabbed her purse and stared when the guard said he would escort her across the street to Peter’s workplace. The friendly guard, Barry, chattered all the way across the street and into an impressive building made of glass. He spoke to another guard who monitored the elevators.
“This here is Peter Logan’s lady,” Barry said.
“Logan?”
They ushered her into the elevator so fast, the next thing she knew she was heading up to the forty-eighth floor. Her palms began to sweat. She was going to see Peter, her boyfriend and father of her baby. She knew he was rich, but escorts and every employee in the building jumping to do his bidding? That was over the top.
The elevator didn’t stop on any floor. When the doors opened, a woman stepped forward, hand extended. She was very attractive and wore a pinstriped pantsuit.
“I’m Pat, Mr. Logan’s secretary. It’s nice to meet you. If you’ll follow me.”
Three women sat behind a reception desk with beautiful floral arrangements. They eyed her with fixed smiles. Should she have dressed up to come to his office? People rushed everywhere, carrying folders and coffee to one another. She felt like turning around with every step she took. Peter employed all these people? Maybe she should have googled him.
“How did you know when I was going to be here?” Emma asked, desperate for a diversion.
“I was notified as soon as you entered the parking garage. When Barry put you in the elevator, he called to let me know,” Pat answered.
“Does Peter know?”
“Mr. Logan’s in a meeting right now.”
“Oh. Maybe I should come back later.” She stopped, debating.
Pat turned. “He told me to notify him as soon as I get you to his office.”
“But maybe-”
“And who is this?” A deep voice drawled.
Emma turned and raised her brows. He was gorgeous… and for some reason, irritated with her even though she’d never met him before. He was tall and immaculately dressed, not a hair out of place. She noticed workers scurrying to their cubicles. A big boss. Hmm.
“You must be Derek,” Emma said.
“And you’re the baker chick.”
“Excuse me?” Emma frowned.
“First Tommy and now Peter. I think Bellingham’s cursed. I refuse to visit,” Derek said sourly.
“I think that’s best,” Emma said sweetly and Pat coughed delicately.
“I can take it from here, Pat,” Derek said and the secretary nodded and backed away. “Shall we?”
Emma walked down the hall with Derek, which was now silent and empty.
“Sure.”
Why the hell did she agree to come to Seattle? Everyone was staring at her and she began to feel claustrophobic.
“Do you love him?” Derek asked, glancing sidelong at her.
She tripped on the lush carpet. “I don’t think that’s your business.”
“His personal life affects the business and I’m the other half of that business. With you, he’s either floating on air or a rabid bear. I need to know which he’s going to be so I can plan my vacation.”
“You can’t pin his moods on me,” Emma objected.
“I can. I figured it out a couple of months ago. This week he’s been happy and productive. I want to keep him that way.”
“You sound like his boss,” Emma said, disgruntled and embarrassed.
“We’re each other’s bosses. So what’s it gonna be, sweetheart?”
Emma put her hands on hips. “Did Peter put you up to this?”
“No. He’s gonna kill me if you tell him.” Derek didn’t seem worried about that outcome.
“I love him-” she began.
Derek held up a hand like a traffic cop. “That’s all I need to know. I guess I can delay my vacation.”
She tapped her foot. “Are you trying to insult me or are you like this normally?”
“I’m like this. I irritate the hell out of Peter and Tommy, but I butter up the clients, so what are you gonna do?”
“Since we’ll be running into each other, I guess you should call me something other than ‘baker chick.’ I’m Emma.”
She held out a hand and he shook it.
“Derek. Does this mean you’re moving to Seattle?”
“No. Peter moved some of his things in with me.”
Derek looked pained. “What is with that town? It’s taking the best businessmen out of the city.”
“It’s not the town, it’s the women.”
Derek gave her a once over. “Bellingham does seem to produce some fine women.”
“Oh Derek, you’re so romantic. You better take me to Peter’s office quick before I set my sights on you.” She couldn’t believe this insulting, arrogant ass was easing her nerves.
His mouth twitched and his eyes warmed a fraction. “One, Peter would kill me and I’d lose my millions so that’s a no go. Two, you have commitment written all over you. And last but not least, I don’t do relationships.”
Emma wasn’t impressed. “You didn’t have to explain any of that. I could tell the moment you opened your mouth.”
Derek looked disconcerted for a moment before he recovered. “Do you have a slutty dress for tonight?”
“Excuse me?”
“There’s going to be cameras, pictures in the paper tomorrow and every girl that’s dated Peter is gonna look at you and hate you. Don’t you want that?” Derek rubbed his hands together in glee.
“Pictures in the paper?” Emma repeated.
“Didn’t he tell you?”
“He said it was going to be fancy, but I didn’t realize… Oh my God.” She swayed.
“Hey,” Derek grabbed her arm. “Don’t faint on me. Peter’s gonna be jealous.”
Her head swam. When was the last time she ate? She stumbled and heard Derek swear. The floor disappeared beneath her feet. Lots of voices seemed to be shouting. She couldn’t understand any of them. Derek was snapping at everyone. What was he saying?
“Call Peter.”
Derek set her on a couch and pushed her head between her knees. A chilled water bottle appeared between her ankles. She breathed and took several gulps of water. Derek crouched in front of her, looking mad as hell.
“Are you sick or deathly afraid of paparazzi?” he asked.
“Neither. I only had coffee today and I guess this is all a bit… uh, overwhelming,” Emma said lamely.
“Pat, a sandwich!” Derek yelled.
“I’m on it,” came Pat’s muffled voice.
“No, I’m fine,” Emma protested and tried to stand. Her vision blurred and she sank back onto the couch.
“You do know that your boyfriend’s a millionaire? If you weren’t feeling well, he could have sent a limo. You didn’t have to drive.”
“I’m fine!”
She looked around the office. It was impressive with floor to ceiling shelves filled with books, awards and sculptures. The view behind the executive desk took her breath away. She opened her mouth to say something when she noticed a picture of herself and Peter on the desk. It was a picture that Anna forced them to take when they first began dating.
Pat handed over a ham sandwich and chips. “Is this okay?”
“This is great,” Emma said and took a bite. A
s soon as she swallowed, the lightheaded feeling began to fade.
“You’re dramatic. I’m sure there’s going to be a picture of me carrying you in my arms on the Internet in the next hour,” Derek said.
“You think I-” Emma began hotly when Peter rushed in.
He came straight to her. His hair was windblown as if he’d run. “Pat said you fainted. Are you sick?” He knelt in front of her and cupped her face in his hands. “Did you call a doctor?” he asked Derek.
“I’m fine,” Emma interjected.
“But you fainted.”
“Why the hell didn’t you send her a limo?” Derek interrupted.
“Because she wouldn’t have rode in it,” Peter said impatiently. “Are you sure you don’t want a doctor?”
“Yes. All I had was coffee today,” Emma said. “But Pat got me a sandwich and I feel better.”
“Do I have to make sure you eat?” Peter demanded.
“I can eat just fine. I was just a bit nervous coming here and I didn’t feel like it.”
“I’m going to cook this weekend and you’re going to eat everything.”
“I carried your fair damsel through our halls like a white knight in expensive Armani,” Derek added.
“He’s irritating and interfering,” Peter said. “But he kisses all the clients asses, so what can I do?”
“He’s really hot,” Emma said loudly.
Peter’s mouth curved. “Let’s make him uncomfortable.”
Peter tugged her to the edge of the couch and kissed her. He slanted his mouth over hers and his tongue entered her mouth. Her moan wasn’t calculated, but it got Derek out of the office. Peter’s hand brushed over her stomach and her heart jumped.
“Are you up for the party tonight?” Peter asked when they parted.
She had to take a sip of water before she could answer. “Yes.”
“If you don’t feel up to it, let me know. I can meet you after the party. Can you walk?”
“Yes!” she said, exasperated.
Would he be like this through her pregnancy? That actually cheered her a bit. She could bear being pampered. Even Derek reacted when she nearly fainted. Derek said he didn’t do relationships, but he would probably be a great father, though she expected him to gripe the whole time.
Peter put an arm around her waist and led her out of the office. Pat walked alongside them with her iPad. She ran down a list of messages, conferences and clients that needed attention. Emma’s heard whirled. Peter nodded, rescheduled and asked Pat to reply to specific emails.
“I’m taking Emma home. If there’s anything urgent, email me.”
Pat’s mouth curved approvingly and she winked at Emma. “Yes, Mr. Logan.”
“Thanks, Pat, for the sandwich,” Emma said.
“No problem.”
“Do you want me to carry you?” Peter asked.
“No, I felt faint for a moment. It was nothing.”
Everyone was staring again. It was as if someone turned down the volume. The cacophony of the office came to an abrupt and deafening halt. She cringed when she thought of the scene she must have made when she fainted and Derek carried her through the office.
“Do you do this often or not at all?” Emma asked testily.
“Do what?” Peter asked.
“Bring your girlfriend up here.”
“Never.”
“Wow. I’m flattered.”
“You should be. And Derek doesn’t like most people, but he really liked you.”
“How could you tell?”
“If any other woman fainted in front of him, he would have let them drop and called security.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“I’ve seen him do it,” Peter confided. “But, in his defense, some woman claimed he was the father of her baby. She fainted to embarrass him and cause a scene.”
Emma felt her cheeks flush. “Does that happen often?”
“Every now and then. I didn’t tell Derek you were coming, but he has his contacts throughout the office. He’s a sneaky bastard. He didn’t offend you, did he?”
She smiled. “I love him.”
Peter nodded to the gaping receptionists and hustled her into the elevator. Emma felt a surge of relief when the doors closed.
“I didn’t realize how big your company is. How do you handle it?” Emma asked, trying to shrug off the feeling that they were being watched.
“By coming to see you,” he murmured and kissed her. “I know it’s a lot, but I’m glad you came.”
“I can’t believe I’ve never seen where you work. Seeing you in a suit after being in Victoria is odd,” she said, fingering the fine material.
“You don’t like it?”
“It makes you look like a rich businessman.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
The elevator doors opened and she knew it wasn’t just in her mind. Everyone in the lobby stared. There were several flashes from cameras and Peter tightened his hold and kept her pressed against him. Six men in black suits and earpieces made a circle around them and cleared a path. They ducked into a silver car, which sped them across the street to the underground garage of his building.
“This feels so weird,” Emma said.
“You’ll get used to it.”
Peter pulled her out of the car and led her to another elevator. He swiped a card over the keys and pressed a button.
“I don’t know how I could get used to this,” Emma muttered. “I don’t think I realized how big your company is or how well known you are. Derek said they’re going to take pictures tonight and they’ll be in the paper tomorrow.”
“It’s no big deal.” He tried to pull her into the elevator.
“Wait, I have to get my suitcase and dress from my car.”
“They’ve already taken it up to my floor.”
“Your floor?” Why did she feel lightheaded again?
He typed a code into the keypad. When the doors opened Peter, looked up at a camera in the elevator and waved before stepping out. They walked down a short hall to a door with a security guard. Peter nodded to him and led Anna into his penthouse. His home was made of glass and steel. Some modern interior designer who didn’t believe in comfort had decorated it. Life size glass sculptures rose out of the corners of the room and ivory and black furniture completed the remote, untouchable penthouse.
“It’s different, isn’t it?” Peter asked, stripping off his jacket.
“Sure is.”
She stood by the door, afraid to touch anything. He strode into the stainless steel kitchen and opened the fridge.
“Want something to drink?”
“No, I’m good,” she said faintly.
It had never been more apparent how out of his league she really was. He loosened his tie while taking a sip from a bottle of water and stopped when he saw her standing by the door.
“Are you going to make a run for it? What’s going on?”
“I really had no idea what your life was like here in the city.”
“This is the way I have to live in the city. It’s not the way I like it, but it’s necessary. Nothing’s ever happened, but I have security as a precaution.”
“No wonder Georgina knew who you were. I’m probably the only one that didn’t know...”
“I’m the same guy whether I’m in jeans or a suit. All of this stuff just goes with living in the city.”
“Mr. Logan?”
Emma jumped as a small woman came down the hallway and bobbed an old fashioned curtsy.
“Do you need anything else?” she asked.
“No, thanks Marla. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Marla nodded to Emma and left the penthouse.
“My housekeeper,” Peter explained.
Emma’s throat felt tight as she stared at Peter and then her surroundings. He fit here. She didn’t. She liked her privacy and for the first time, she was grateful he never invited her to visit him in the city.
“Com
e,” Peter said and pulled her down a long hallway.
When he pulled her into the bedroom, she was relieved to see that the bedroom looked lived in at least. It had a gigantic connecting bathroom that was the size of the upper floor of her house. Her dress hung on a peg. Even her duffel had been unpacked. All of her clothes hung in his closet. She considered the sight and felt his hands wrap around her from behind.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured.
She turned in his arms and looked up at him. Would her daughter have his eyes? She went on tiptoe and kissed him. This was familiar and safe. His hands tugged off her blazer and pulled off her top.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked, voice husky.
She nodded and he raked his teeth on her shoulder as he undressed them. He pinned her beneath him on the massive bed and eyed her greedily.
“I’ve been thinking about this all week.”
She needed reassurance that what she felt in Victoria was real. Peter sensed her urgency and was out of control within minutes. He plunged into her and raised her legs high so he could sink into her as deep as possible.
“Tell me you love me,” he murmured.
She sank her hand into his hair, kissed him and declared, “I love you.”
“God, I missed you. I’m not going to last.”
“Good.”
Peter laughed and groaned. “You’re going to kill me.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
While Peter cooked chicken Marsala, he put her in a bubble bath. She soaked and stared around at the grand bathroom. The look on Peter’s face when he ordered her to declare her love made her heart flutter. She could feel that he cared for her. There was a world of difference between love and caring, though. He wanted to hear the words from her. That had to mean something, right?
She dressed in a silky robe and padded out to the kitchen and found Peter on his cell phone as he cooked. She listened to the figures he was tossing around and her eyes bulged. Her stomach lurched. Okay, yes, she was way out of his league. Peter caught sight of her, made her a plate and sat her at the table while he continued to talk. He kissed her lightly on the lips and continued his conversation. She was halfway through her meal when he hung up.
“Sorry. Something came up,” he said.
