Lone Star Baby Scandal

by Lauren Canan

  Clay followed her up the stairs with his security and six board members in tow. As he stepped into the main area, he gave orders to take off.

  The plane-to-helicopter flight took almost four hours. Most of the time in the air they spent discussing the meeting, the agenda and especially the number-one concern: the maniac who had been throwing out slanderous lies about the company.

  Arriving at the Everest building, they walked together down the corridor that led to the spacious penthouse suite. Sophie took her overnight bag into the bedroom she’d always used while Clay made some phone calls and continued to address the concerns with the men who had flown in with them. The meeting was scheduled for that afternoon at four o’clock with dinner to be served at eight. She had her agenda, notes of additional topics Clay wanted her to bring up and her iPhone to record the discussion. She was ready to go. The plan was to stay over one night then head back to the ranch in the morning. She couldn’t help but wonder what the night would bring.

  After a light lunch, they headed downstairs to the large meeting room. There were about twenty people in attendance. Some were new faces but most were men and women she’d met before. In just a few minutes, Clay asked everyone to have a seat and the meeting began.

  All the attendees appeared to listen to Clay with rapt attention. After the general meeting, he touched briefly on the situation caused by Maverick and voiced assurances that none of the stories circulating about the security breach was true. Everest was solid. The reasons behind the attack were still unknown.

  After the day’s business was concluded and dinner had been enjoyed, Clay approached her as she gathered her things.

  “Sophie, I have been asked to accompany Joseph Rankston and a few others to a lounge down on Lexington. You are welcome to join us.”

  “Oh, well, thanks. But honestly, I’d just as soon have an early night.” So much for an early night with Clay.

  “Are you sick?”

  “Nope. I just don’t want to sit around some club while the bunch of you conspire as to what you’re going to do with the bad guy spreading the rumors when you catch him.”

  Clay hesitated.

  “Go. I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She’d hoped they would have the evening together. So much for great plans. “To tell you the truth, I’m a bit tired. A hot bath and an early night sound good to me.”

  “Okay, then. You know how to reach me and the chef for anything you want to eat. I’ll see you later.”

  And he returned to the men and woman waiting for him by the outside door, leaving Sophie standing in the center of the emptying conference room. Grabbing her things, she returned to the suite.

  Two of the walls in the main room were floor-to-ceiling glass. She watched the lights come on in the city. All the colors. She decided to take a hot bath, something she especially enjoyed in this bathroom where luxury took on a whole new meaning. A thousand jets circulated the water and massaged her skin. The aroma from the bath salts filled the room, adding to the amazing relaxation. When her fingers began to prune, she toweled off, pulled on her sleeping attire and headed to the kitchen. Cookies and milk seemed like the perfect ending to this day. She opened the center door of the refrigerator that covered the expanse of the wall. Sure enough, on the center shelf, there was a fresh carton of milk, the same brand she’d gone on about the last time she was here. In a gourmet baker’s box on the counter were five-inch-wide chocolate-chip cookies. When she had contacted the firm who maintained this apartment for Clay, she hadn’t mentioned the milk and cookies. That they kept such copious notes was amazing. She’d only answered yes, she would be coming, and voilà! Plopping onto a stool at the bar, she continued to gaze out over downtown Manhattan as she enjoyed the late-night snack.

  After a few rounds of flipping channels on the TV, she finally gave up and decided to go to bed. Much later she was awoken by the sound of a woman’s laughter and animated talking coming from the main room near the front door. Then all was quiet before she heard a muffled, “Good night, Clay.”

  He had gone out with another woman.

  While she was here waiting for him, he’d been out doing the town with someone else. The tears welled in her eyes. She felt nausea curling its way up to her throat. Clay Everett would never change and what self-deluding reason had made her think he would? Why in the world would she ever think Clay saw her as special? She was a good secretary, a fair nursemaid when she had to be. And apparently a fill-in when he couldn’t find anyone else.

  Just then she heard a soft knock and her door opened. Sophie pretended to be asleep. She didn’t want to talk to him and she certainly didn’t want anything else from him. Clay walked over to the bed and called her name. She kept still and ignored him. She felt the covers being lifted and placed higher on her shoulder. Then there were quiet footsteps as he returned to the door and closed it behind him.

  Self-admonishment filled her heart. She was finished with the man, such as there was to finish. In fact, she really needed to start looking for another job. She couldn’t deal with the emotions; she didn’t seem able to control them. All she wanted now was to get back to the ranch and back to her cottage. She was taking the rest of the week off.

  How could he come into her bedroom from the arms of another? Brother, could she pick ’em. She was such a fool. She could feel the blush of humiliation cover her neck and face. What must he think of her really? What would he think when he found out she carried his child? Then that question only made it worse. Why should she care what he thought of her? The fact that she did was pathetic.

  The next morning, she gazed in the mirror and it looked as though she hadn’t slept all night. Then she realized through a befuddled brain that she hadn’t. And she was mad as hell. Enough so she couldn’t look at him and refused to even try.

  “I’ve got coffee going in the kitchen,” he said, giving her an odd look.

  “No, thanks.” She turned down coffee and anything to eat. In fact, the very idea of food made her queasy.

  “I missed you at the club last night.”

  “I’ll bet you did.” She forced what she hoped was a cheery smile. Let him frown all he wanted. Better yet, let him figure out what was bothering her—if he should decide he cared.

  “Do you have a headache?”

  “Not yet. Are you ready to go?”

  Sophie didn’t care whether he’d finished his coffee. He could eat his Danish in the car or throw it down the disposal. She wanted to get out of here, away from him, and get back home to her own place, where she could think.

  “I suppose so.” He held his Danish in his teeth while he pulled on his jacket. “Is that all you brought?”

  She stood by the front door, her overnight bag in her hand, her purse over her shoulder. Rather than answer she just glared.

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Before she could walk out the door, nausea hit her hard. Dropping her bag and purse, she ran for the nearest bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Oh, God. It was the morning sickness rearing its ugly head. Just what she didn’t want to happen in front of Clay. When the moment passed, she sat on the floor leaning against a wall. It was the third time she’d been sick. She’d read it was normal and to expect it, but she’d never considered it would hit her while here in New York. What was she going to tell him?

  What did it matter?

  She was still furious Clay had apparently gone out with another woman last night, and regardless of how many times she got sick, it didn’t change the fact or how she felt about it. For heaven’s sake. She was pregnant with his child.

  She got to her feet and proceeded to grab a toothbrush, toothpaste and some mouthwash. She wished she had some crackers but wasn’t about to ask for any.

  There
was a knock on the door. “Sophie? Are you okay?”

  Oh, yeah, she was great. The temptation to tell him the truth was overwhelming but it was a long flight back. She didn’t want to be trapped in that plane with him. She had no realistic idea of how he would react and that was not the place to find out.

  “I’m fine. Just too much excitement last evening. Being in New York and everything.”

  “You don’t like New York.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You don’t like big cities, then. Look, can we not do this through the door?”

  She dried her mouth and yanked open the door. “No problem. Ready to go?”

  Clay gave her a sideways glance that clearly said his suspicion was up. Let him choke on it. She returned to the front door, picked up her laptop and swung her purse strap over her shoulder. Clay grabbed the overnight bag and tried to take the laptop but she refused. She could carry his child. She could damn sure carry her own luggage.

  Following Clay to the helipad, she climbed into the chopper and minutes later they headed to the airport.

  Once they were on board, the giant aircraft headed west. Sophie kicked off her shoes and sat back into the luscious, deep, rich leather seat. Her eyes felt swollen and puffy. She knew her face looked ashen. All the more reason to stay away from Clay Everett.

  None of the people who had flown down with them were on board. She was curious as to why but refused to ask. Grabbing a small blanket from the drawer next to her, she covered herself, determined to sleep during the flight home. The notes from the meeting could be completed in short order, so she could do that when they arrived. Or perhaps she wouldn’t do it at all. Let him hire someone else to type up the notes. If he didn’t like it, he could fire her and she’d be on her way back to Indiana, where she should be in the first place.

  She heard him behind her in the small kitchen area. It sounded like he was mixing drinks. Who would drink before noon? Then she realized with aggravation, it was noon. A five-ounce tumbler appeared in front of her face with amber liquid inside.

  “Here, take it. You look like you need it.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Sophie, either you take the drink with a couple of aspirins or I’m having this plane turn around and getting you to a doctor in New York. It’s light. Just enough to calm you down a bit.”

  “I’m calm.”

  Clay leaned over, placing his face directly in front of hers. “Take. The. Glass.”

  Still glaring, she reached up and took the drink in her hand. She held the chilled glass next to her forehead but didn’t take a sip.

  “Do you want some aspirin?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Clay was quiet for a few minutes. While she refused to look at him, she could feel his eyes on her. He shed his jacket, leaving only the white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. He pulled the shirttail out of his jeans and proceeded to roll up the sleeves. She glanced his way in time to see him nod to himself as though he’d determined the problem. Good for him. He took a seat next to her, his right arm going around the seat behind her.

  Sophie immediately moved to the next seat down the cabin-length sofa away from him.

  “Please leave me alone.”

  “I haven’t even started to bother you...yet.” She heard him blow out a sigh. “Sophie, two people came back to the suite with me last night. Scott and Loretta Bennett. Loretta needed some paperwork she’d asked me to bring on the Ludlow case. Her husband came along when she picked it up.”

  “I really don’t care.”

  “Then why the tears? Your face is as swollen as a marshmallow that’s been roasted over a campfire. Unless you got bad news from home... Did you?”

  “No.”

  “Then,” he said gently, “why were you crying last night? And why are you so angry with me this morning?”

  “I never said I was angry.”

  He gave a half laugh. “You didn’t have to.”

  Clay moved down to again sit next to her and pulled her into his arms. She struggled against him but he was too strong.

  “Sophie, there was no woman in my room last night. The meeting and later at the club was strictly business. I know you must have heard Loretta when she came upstairs with me. Sophie, look at me.”

  He was doing it again. It was a contest of wills and she was about to concede defeat. Slowly, she looked over at Clay. He was the most attractive man. A one-day-old shadow of beard stubble on his strong face highlighted the deep grooves on either side of his mouth. His green eyes were lit from within and watched her carefully. There was no laugh, no smirk.

  “You are very special to me,” he whispered only inches away from her mouth, his deep voice sending a series of chills across her skin. “I would never do that to you. If either of us should decide to see someone else, I hope we would have the common courtesy to tell the other.”

  “Is that what you did with your other women?”

  Silence. “I’m not saying I’m not a bad boy or haven’t been in the past. What I’m saying is you are the one person I would never string along while I saw another woman.”

  And then his lips touched hers, lightly at first, as though testing to see what she would do. Then his mouth came down on hers, tasting, devouring, over and over. His tongue pushed its way inside and Sophie couldn’t suppress a moan. She opened to him and the more she gave the more he took. His big hand slid under her shirt and cupped her breast over her bra. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. Then the bra fell away and his hand was on her, squeezing her nipple. The shirt came over her head and his lips found the other breast. A flare of pure lava rolled down to her core.

  “Damn, Sophie.” He picked her up and carried her toward the back of the plane to the bedroom. Laying her on the bed, he quickly stripped them both of their clothing and pressed her down into the soft mattress.

  “You make me crazy,” he murmured. “I can’t stand being away from you. Not having you every day, every night, is frustrating as hell.”

  With his knee he parted her legs and settled himself onto her. As he rotated his hips, she felt his erection hard against her center. The impossible thought that they were thirty thousand feet above the ground only added to the need running rampant. Her heart gave a thunderous leap as excitement rushed through her, adding to the heat that already flowed through her veins. Her hands trembled as they roamed over his broad chest. Her entire being began to shiver in reaction to the fiercely male focus on his face. He once again lowered his lips to hers. He was hard, demanding. Then his mouth left to blaze a fiery trail over her throat and down to a pink-tipped breast while his hand cupped the other. The line between pain and sheer pleasure was walked perfectly by Clay, who caused flares of growing, intense pleasure from her breast to her core.

  Falling to his side, he threw a heavy leg over hers as if preventing her from moving. His free hand drifted downward over the slight curve of her stomach, until his fingers found the curls of her essence. She was unable to move, frozen by the pure male anticipation that was Clay. One finger made a bold insertion and her body shuddered, all her thoughts consumed by what he was doing. By what he was about to do. She was on the edge of total satisfaction and Clay didn’t let the opportunity pass to send her to the heavens. Not caring if anyone might hear, she cried out, her climax consuming all rational thought. Her breath left her lungs when she gazed into his emerald-green eyes, now dark with passion, and saw the look of insatiable arousal. There was no stopping him and she didn’t want to. She wanted more. She had to have him inside her.

  As though he knew and understood, he rolled on top of her and pushed inside. The tight, glorious heat filled her to the max. She was on fire for him and couldn’t offer enough of herself to him and the power of his big body. With a few circular moves and one hard thrust, she cried out again as their hot b
odies writhed together in one harmonious blending of white-hot passion.

  Sophie couldn’t move. As she lay next to Clay, gasping for her next breath, she felt his arms go around her and hold her close, his lips kissing her forehead and temple.

  “Did we overcome your fear of flying?” he joked, still gasping for air, his voice deep from the recent emotion.

  “Maybe.”

  “Then we will have to keep trying until you can tell me you love to fly.”

  “Hmm.” She felt rather than saw him smile as he covered her with a soft blanket. The curious hum of the engines and the gentle swaying of the plane lulled her to sleep. She drifted off thinking that maybe flying wasn’t so bad after all.

  Eight

  Where is the damned blackmail note?

  It had been two weeks since the online rumors began and Clay had heard nothing from the person or people who’d instigated the vicious rumors against Everest. Not through any email, no snail mail, no phone call. He would be the first one to admit he was losing it. What in the hell did they want? There had to be a ransom for Everest. More threats. More lies. Something. And what was Maverick’s involvement in all this?

  The only part worse than not knowing what the next plan of attack would be was still not knowing the cause of it. Why was someone doing this? What did they hope to gain?

  He had managed to hold his temper in front of Sophie, but excusing himself from the office a dozen times a day when he made trips to the barn to mutilate bales of hay in an attempt to work out some of the exasperation had not skipped her notice.

  Over those two weeks, Sophie and Clay worked morning till night, manning the phones and talking with clients of Everest located around the world, assuring them the latest publicity was pure fiction, made up by some crazed individual to try to make Everest fail. Everest cybersecurity was solid and uncompromised, as it had been from the beginning.