“I believe you.” She could see what had won over her grandmother. Preston might seem bottom line oriented. And he was. But he did care. “You just...look at things differently than me.”
She wondered what he saw out that window overlooking the city right now. While she saw the lights and play of the moon over the river, he no doubt focused on other things.
“Different is not bad. Most artists are empathetic by nature. It’s what makes them thrive in their work.”
“Oh, really?” She grinned for a moment, realizing she’d never separate the man from the arrogance for long. But he was a smart man. And he’d obviously spent some time thinking about this kind of thing.
“Really.”
They were quiet for a moment as she tried to process this new side of Preston. A side, she had to admit, appealed to her.
“I’m trying to see your take on things. My whole family has been more on edge recently because of Gran’s cancer, so maybe not all the McNairs have given you a fair chance.” That worry inside her—the fear that dogged her about the woman she loved most in the world—had been a large part of what had driven her into Preston’s arms in the first place. “You’re an outsider, so it will take us a while to trust you.”
He lifted a strand of her hair. “Do you trust me?”
What a loaded question. She tugged the sheet up farther over her breasts, avoiding his eyes. “I trust you can lead Diamonds in the Rough.”
“But you still wish it was in family hands.”
Except then she wouldn’t have met him and she wouldn’t have this baby she loved more and more every day. Life was complicated. She opted for an honest answer—about the company. “I understand where my area of expertise falls at the company, but I still resent that I was not even considered for the CEO’s position. I wasn’t consulted about the choice. It stings.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He sat up, studying her face with those perceptive CEO eyes of his. “Your cousin didn’t want the job. Did you?”
“I wanted to be considered.” She sat up as well, hugging her knees to her chest.
“What makes you think you weren’t?”
She rolled her eyes. “My family has never taken me seriously.” Roscoe curled under her hand to be rubbed. “I’m the eccentric one, the airheaded beauty queen.”
“You’ve proven you’re at the top of your field at Diamonds in the Rough. Your more rustic designs are catching on like wildfire across the country and in England. You deserve to be proud of that. We all have a role to play.”
She thought about the designs that weren’t rustic. The ones he hadn’t asked her much about. They might be all wrong for Diamonds in the Rough.
“I guess I just feel all the more need to prove there’s no nepotism. My grandmother gives my father an office with a title and his name on the door.”
“Your father’s position is as a figurehead,” he said matter-of-factly. “We know that. You contribute work, founding entire design lines. Sounds to me like you don’t take yourself seriously.”
She snapped back at the observation. One that was perhaps a little too astute for her peace of mind.
“Maybe you’re right. And maybe you’re not.” She slid off the bed, taking the sheet with her. “But I do know one thing for sure. I’m starving.”
Seemed she was hungry all the time lately once the morning sickness passed. Her time was definitely running out to tell him about the baby. She’d rambled on about trust and yet she was lying to him in one of the worst ways possible.
They’d taken a big step here tonight. She just hoped the connection they’d made was enough to carry them through the news she had to tell him.
* * *
Preston leaned against the wet bar, facing the bay of windows looking out over one of the best views in Manhattan, but his eyes zeroed in on Amie. She perched on a leather bar stool wrapped in a sheet and eating a sliced pear, cheese and crackers from the cut-crystal dish as though she were a starved athlete. He’d learned to read people over the years, a survival skill in his job world. And he could see something huge weighed on her mind.
Nudging aside her empty plate and sliding it across the smooth granite countertop, she dabbed a napkin along the corners of her mouth with overplayed care. She folded the crisp linen napkin, set it down and pressed the crease nervously. “We need to talk.”
Damn. He’d known something was off with her from the second she’d rolled out of bed. “Forget the speech about how we shouldn’t have done this and it will never happen again. There’s an attraction between us we’ve tried to deny and that hasn’t worked. I say it’s time to quit fighting it.”
“Things aren’t quite that simple.” She pressed the napkin crease again and again.
“They can be. You can’t deny what’s between us any longer, especially not after tonight.” He picked up her hand and linked fingers, even the simple touch crackling the air with attraction.
“I hear you.” She squeezed his hand, a sadness creeping across her face and catching in her eyes. “And in a different world things could have played out over the months.”
“Different world?” He struggled to follow her words and for an astute CEO, he just wasn’t getting it. But he wasn’t letting go. “Is this because I head the company? It’s not like I’m your boss any more than you’re mine, since your family owns the business. That puts us on even footing.”
She shook her head, tousled hair sliding over her cheek. “It’s more complicated.” She jerked her hand free and pushed her hair back with agitated fingers. “I’ve been looking for the right time—the right way—to tell you.”
Tell him what? To go to hell? That she was seeing someone else? “Just say it.”
She sat up straighter, her hands falling away from her head and settling to rest over her stomach. “I’m pregnant. And the baby is yours.”
Eight
“You’re pregnant?”
Preston’s flat tone and stunned expression didn’t give Amie much hope for an enthusiastic reception. She tucked the sheet more securely around her, wishing she’d chosen her timing better to make the announcement, when she felt less vulnerable from making love with him.
When she had on some clothes and he was wearing more than sweatpants low slung on his sexy narrow hips.
Arming herself with a bracing breath at least, she met his shocked gaze head-on. “Apparently the condom didn’t work—welcome to the world of the two percent fail rate. And before you ask, I haven’t been with anyone else in over six months, so I am absolutely certain the baby is yours.”
He gave a rough nod. Swallowed visibly.
“I wasn’t questioning. I trust your honesty.” He thrust his hands through his tousled dark hair, the dusting of silver strands on the side a hint more pronounced in his stress. “I’m just...stunned.”
She tipped her chin, trying to squelch the ache of disappointment in her heart that he hadn’t...what? Just turned a cartwheel? Or hugged her and asked how she was feeling? Make her feel connected to him since they’d created this new life together? She knew better than to hope for those things. But that didn’t stop the sting of hurt just the same.
“I don’t expect anything from you. I’m able to support myself. I would hope for the baby’s sake you would want to be a part of his or her life, but if you decide otherwise, I am not going to force you to pretend to care.”
“Whoa, hold on. I didn’t say I’m out of the picture.” He started pacing restlessly around the luxury suite, the same way he did whenever he went into thinking mode in the boardroom. “I’ve had less than a minute to process this. I’m forty-six years old. This isn’t the news I was expecting. I’m past that stage of my life.”
She remembered his child who’d died and her heart softened. No doubt her baby would stir all the more difficult
emotions for him. Yes, she understood that. Wished he would have confided more in her when she’d asked him about it. But he hadn’t wanted that kind of intimacy between them.
His decision. And damn it, this wasn’t easy for her, either. This baby was coming no matter what.
“Fine then.” She clasped the sheet between her breasts and slid off the bar stool. “My baby. I’ll take care of him or her and you can move on with the next stage of your life.”
He clasped her elbow gently and stopped pacing. “Lower your defenses, Amie. This is my baby, too. And I may not be as young as most new parents, but I’m not Methuselah.” He massaged her arm, his touch tender but his face still guarded. “I’m all in. Whatever you and the child need, I’m here for you both. I will be an active part of his or her life.”
“Thanks for doing your duty,” she said dryly, easing her arm away.
He sighed heavily. “Apparently I’m not expressing myself well.”
“No, I’m hearing you just fine. And more than that, I can see in your face this news doesn’t please you in the least.” A knot started in her throat. Damn hormonal emotions.
“Are you happy?”
His question caught her off guard. She hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about her own emotions. She’d focused more on Preston’s and her grandmother’s reactions. “I’m nervous. But yes, there are days I have these images of what he or she will be like, and I’m happy.”
“Pardon me for being human. You’ve had a while to process this surprise.” He clasped her hand, holding firm. “Give me time to get over the shock of your being pregnant and I’ll get to the happy part.”
She eased a step closer, not quite ready to relent. “Well, forgive me if I’m skeptical.”
Holding her gaze, he sat on the sofa, tugging her hand carefully until finally she sat on his lap and he held her close. They didn’t speak and she let herself soak up the feeling of his arms around her. Maybe, just maybe, they could work things out in a way no one would be hurt or feel disappointed.
He rubbed his hands up and down her back. “Holy crap,” he said slowly, realization lighting his eyes. “This is why you’ve been avoiding me lately.”
“Ya think?” She pressed her cheek against his steady heartbeat.
“What about before you found out you were pregnant? Why did you give me the deep freeze then?”
Now, that surprised her. How could he be so clueless? “You honestly don’t know?”
He shook his head. “Afraid not. Enlighten me.”
“You were firing Diamonds in the Rough employees at the speed of light.” She slid off his lap to sit beside him, the warm fuzzy moment over as indignation crept up her spine. “The poor staff was literally put on the island watching people voted off every day.”
“You don’t agree with the business decisions I made.” He arched a dark eyebrow.
“Not all of them. No,” she admitted.
“But you can’t deny the company is thriving now. Those who are still working for us have jobs that are more secure than ever. With luck, we’ll be able to hire more back.”
Could that be true? Could she trust him? “When will that happen?”
“When the numbers speak.”
She stifled disappointment at his typical double-talk answer. “Numbers don’t talk. People do.”
He spread his hands. “That’s why you’re the artist and I’m the CEO.”
“And we’re both now parents of this baby.” She shot to her feet, feeling more hopeless than before that they could find a middle ground together. “I need to shower and rest. I just can’t talk about this anymore.”
Before she did something weak and vulnerable like curl up and cry against his chest. She dashed back to her bedroom and closed herself inside, alone with her cat and an even bigger tangle of emotions.
* * *
Maybe a better man would have gone after her.
Preston could not be that man. Not right now. Not when this news had ripped him raw.
Charging into his bedroom, he found his workout clothes and pulled on a clean T-shirt and running shorts. Socks. Shoes. He focused on the routine to keep himself from putting a hole through the nearest wall.
Amie pregnant. His daughter had died giving birth... The two events spun together. Clouded his mind. He needed to move.
He sprinted out of the suite and down fifty-two flights of stairs from the penthouse suite. He headed west on East Fifty-seventh Street and picked up his pace. Midtown was far quieter in the small hours of the morning. While it may be the city that never sleeps, 4:30 a.m. didn’t attract the same kind of crowds. Cabs raced to the stoplights in the freedom of no traffic. Bars and clubs in unlikely places spilled music and colored lights out onto the sidewalk, making him dart around the occasional red velvet ropes set up on the street.
And Amie was pregnant.
Lungs burning, he hit Central Park before he realized where he’d been headed. Maybe not the wisest place to run after dark, but he pitied anyone who tried to mess with him. He’d love an excuse to throw a punch. Or ten. Anything to make this ache in his chest go away. The fire behind his eyes.
He’d lost his baby girl to a pregnancy. And now Amie was pregnant.
Tripping on a tree root as he darted off the sidewalk into the grass, he almost fell onto a homeless guy sleeping on a green painted bench, his face covered with newspaper.
“You okay, man?” the guy asked, a hand shoving aside last week’s sports section as he stared up at Preston.
He nodded. Started running again.
Slower.
He spotted the pond up ahead and followed the path around it. Now and then a cab pulled onto one of the roads through the park, headlights flashing over him. A few street lamps lit his way. Nocturnal birds called out from the trees all around the pond, the conservancy efforts having made this portion of the park feel like being out in the country. Exactly what he needed.
Space. Air. Stillness.
Slowing his steps even more, he paced alongside the water’s edge until he’d circled almost the whole way around. He hoped he’d sweat out the worst of the crushing fear for Amie. For his unborn child. He’d loved his daughter so much. Even during the years where he hadn’t gotten to see Leslie much, he took joy and pride in knowing she was in the world. A small piece of him, but better than him. The very best of him.
Losing Leslie had cut so deep he’d barely stood it. There was the pain of losing her. Compounded by the fact that she’d died without getting to hold the infant she’d given up everything to have. And made even worse by the pain of knowing how much she hadn’t wanted her own father in her life.
When Leslie had died, he’d taken time off from work—something he’d never done. Listless weeks he could hardly remember. But a company crisis had saved him. Forced him to dedicate everything he had to bending the corporate world to his will. There had been a grim satisfaction in that. And it had saved his sanity.
Now, he was going to face all that again. With Amie.
“You sure you’re okay, man?” a gruff man’s voice shouted to him from several yards away.
For a second, Preston figured voices in his head was just about right for the hell of the past hour. But then he saw a flash of newspaper waving at him from another bench surrounded by bushes and flowers. Lights illuminated the plantings—and the homeless man he’d almost tripped on before. The guy’s grizzled beard and shaggy hair were so long they flowed over his T-shirt, but he held up both hands as if to show him he meant no harm.
“I’m good. Thanks. Just out for a jog.”
But was it too much to ask to be alone with his thoughts?
“Sorry, dude,” the scratchy voice rasped in the quiet of predawn when the sounds of night bugs were still more prominent than the rattle of diesel engines and squea
ling brakes in the distance. “Had a friend that came here to...er...end it all.” The guy scratched his beard. “Got that same feeling when you sprinted past me.”
“No problems here—” he started. But seeing the older guy’s patches on a tattered jacket—military badges, Preston stopped with the bs answer. “Running off some old ghosts. But I’m...okay.”
Scared spitless of having another child. Worried he might fail this baby the same way he’d let down Leslie...but he was going to find a way to get himself together.
Man up.
“Hard to keep ’em off your heels some days. I’ve had that kind, too.” The man nodded thoughtfully, staring out at the pond.
Laughter nearby interrupted as a young couple stumbled past, sounding intoxicated as they held on to one another, doubled over with hilarity while the street lamps glinted off their matching face piercings.
Preston needed to get out of here. Get his butt back to the hotel and be there for Amie. For his child.
And the only way to do that? Wall off those emotions—the ghosts on his heels—and just focus on her. Getting through this. He was a man of honor and he would stand by her. His family.
His eyes burned even as he thought it.
Striding over to the older man, Preston took a deep breath.
“Thank you for your service.” He held out his hand, knowing in his gut the man was a veteran fallen on hard times.
Sure enough, the guy grinned. A few teeth were missing. But his eyes held plenty of wisdom.
“You’re welcome, son.” His weathered grip was strong. “You might try surprising those ghosts sometime, by the way. Stop and turn instead of running. One of these days, you’ll give them hell.”
“I’ll remember that.” With a nod, Preston launched into a run, turning his feet back toward the luxury hotel that seemed a million miles away from this place.
He wasn’t ready to battle any ghosts today. But for now he would count it a victory if he could talk to Amie about this child without breaking out in a cold sweat. First, though? He needed to run faster, arrange with the concierge to find help for his veteran angel.
Pregnant by the Cowboy CEO Page 10
