The Boss's Baby Bargain

by Karen Sandler

  “Our child,” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she murmured back to him. “You’re going to be a father.”

  “But can I—” He dipped his head and shadows concealed his features. The plantation shutters in his room still lay closed against the sun and the dim light wasn’t sufficient to reveal his secrets. Allie could only guess by the tension in his shoulders and arms the turmoil inside him.

  She realized that for her, making love would bring them closer, create the intimacy she craved. But for him, expressing himself sexually made it easy to remain behind his barriers.

  She wanted him nonetheless.

  Kicking off her sneakers, she unbuttoned her jeans and drew down the zipper. Following her lead, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her jeans and pulled them down and off. He stripped off her sweater in one swift move, then straightened, his hands going to his tie.

  With a smile, Allie grabbed the dangling silk and tugged him toward her. “Let me.”

  Reaching up, she unthreaded the knot on the tie and slid it slowly from around his neck. Trailing her fingers up his chest, she slipped the top button of his shirt free, then continued with the others, her thumbs parting the opening as she went. When she reached the waistband of his slacks, she tugged at the shirt, releasing it bit by bit before undoing the last two buttons.

  As he shrugged free of the shirt, Lucas’s hands closed on her shoulders, tightening when she unhooked his slacks. She lowered the zipper as slowly as she could, while Lucas’s breathing throbbed in time to her own state of arousal. When his slacks finally fell from his hips and he stepped clear of them, Allie pressed against him, sending a long, low groan vibrating through him. Exultation burst within her at her power to excite him. If she couldn’t bring his heart to love, at least she could give him this exquisite pleasure.

  Lucas skimmed his briefs from his hips and let them fall to the floor. He pulled her against him, his hard length hot against her skin. She pressed her lips against his chest, the soft hair there brushing against her cheeks. She found his male nipples, running her tongue around one, then the other. As she laved them they stiffened to tight peaks and Lucas’s breathing grew even harsher.

  She ached to give him so much pleasure it would bind him to her in a way she couldn’t hope to do with love. He understood the physical, the sexual; let it be her link to him.

  His eyes nearly black with desire, he whispered hoarsely, “I want inside you.”

  “Please,” she whispered back.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The intensity, the depth of his passion stunned Lucas. Even as his body demanded he take Allie and take her quickly, conflicting, incomprehensible emotions screamed at him to back away.

  He let his body take over, stripping her bra and panties from her, jerking back the covers on the bed he hadn’t slept in for a week. When he pressed her back against the pillow she gasped, no doubt at the chill of the sheets. He quickly covered her body with his, half-afraid the conflagration inside him would scorch them both.

  He parted her legs with an impatient hand, ready to plunge inside her. “You’re sure this won’t hurt the baby?”

  She didn’t speak, just shook her head, lifted her hips to welcome him. The fetters of his logical mind shattered as he thrust inside her. He watched her eyes drift shut as she tightened around him, an exquisite sensation. She moaned, a long, low sound, and wrapped her legs around his hips.

  Lord, he felt seventeen again and just as uncontrollable. If he didn’t take a breath, muster some restraint, he’d go over the edge in a heartbeat.

  Resisting the urgency to pound into her, he thrust slowly, deeply, keeping his face close to hers so he could watch her every response. A vivid flush colored her cheeks and her half-lidded eyes seemed lost in pleasure. Her nipples rubbed against his chest, the contact sending him on a path to madness.

  As much as he wanted to see every moment of pleasure in her face, he gave in to the temptation to taste her lips, the sweetness of her mouth. Dipping his tongue past her lips, he stroked in imitation of his thrusting between her legs, a slow, mesmerizing pleasure. For the first time, he was glad he was forty, glad he could maintain the control that had eluded him as a younger man.

  With her first moments of climax, her head pressed back into the pillow, fingernails digging into his sides as her legs locked at the small of his back. So close to the edge himself, he gritted his teeth against the on-coming wave, drawing out her climax as long as he could. Then the pressure of her muscles clenching around him heightened the sensations beyond what even he could resist and he let himself tumble into paradise with her.

  His release was so intense, the world faded from his awareness, leaving him only the woman in his arms, the welcoming heat of her. He rasped out her name, clutched her so tight he was certain he was hurting her. Deep inside him, a voice cried out, shouting words he’d never dared to speak. Scrambling for a scrap of lucidity, he pushed back the pronouncement, burying his face in her throat to silence himself.

  In the aftermath of pleasure, every muscle in his body warmed and relaxed. Not wanting to crush her with his weight, he slipped from her, gathering her in his arms as he lay beside her. The words he’d kept inside still rang in his ears and it frightened him a little that he’d nearly spoken them aloud.

  She turned in his arms, facing him. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him, her fingers tracing a path along his jaw, to his ear, along his throat. Her dazed, sated expression filled him with a fierce male pride.

  She sighed, snuggled closer. “That was utterly divine.”

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead, her skin satiny against his lips. “Welcome home.”

  When he drew back, he could see Allie’s devotion in her eyes. She repeated the words she’d said earlier. “I’ll always come back home. I love you, Lucas.”

  He wanted to believe. A part of him even wanted to utter the same words back, even if they weren’t in his heart.

  She gazed at him, and he could see the expectant hope in her eyes. Not wanting to hurt her, knowing he couldn’t help but cause her pain anyway, he remained silent. When hope dimmed in her face, she shut her eyes, edged even closer to him as if seeking the comfort his heart couldn’t provide.

  A bitterness settled in his chest that someone as sweet as Allie had saddled herself with him. He had nothing to give her, at least nothing to satisfy her yearning. He had only his body to offer and the sensuality between them.

  As her legs tangled with his, he responded instantly, ready to pleasure her as before. She pressed against him, her hand at his hip to pull him closer, signaling to him that her desire matched his own.

  Shifting to cover her body, he devoured her mouth with a kiss, drank in her sweetness. A trace of unease lingered inside him but he pushed it aside. She wanted him, he wanted her; right now that was all that mattered. If he couldn’t bind her to him with love, he would do it with passion.

  Surely that would be enough.

  The day faded into night and Allie thought she would die of happiness. They came up for air long enough for a hurried dinner before returning to his bedroom to make love for what seemed the hundredth time. Then they showered in his lavish master bathroom and she sat on the edge of the tub, huddled in his terry robe, watching him shave, fascinated by the stark white towel hanging low on his hips.

  Now he slept beside her in his bed, smelling clean and fresh from his shower. Sprawled on his stomach with his arms flung up, he had his face turned toward her, and the tension in his body was finally gone.

  In the dim moonlight filtering in through the blinds, her gaze roamed over his face. She took in each beloved feature, imagined that high brow and stubborn chin on a son or daughter of his. She could see herself so clearly cradling Lucas’s infant in her arms, nursing him or her as Lucas looked on.

  Their child would be loved, respected, always cared for; she would make certain of that. Lucas still might think he didn’t know how to love, but he’d demonstrated to
Allie he could make a child feel cherished. She need only remember his kindness toward her nephew Danny, the easy way he had with the children at the Christmas party.

  Lucas’s complexity, the layers of mystery surrounding him only made Allie love him more. He might never say the words she ached to hear from him, but that had begun to matter less and less. His actions spoke louder than any words. In that moment, she felt treasured.

  Needing to touch him, Allie trailed her fingers across his back, down his spine, then up again over the rough scar spanning most of the right side of his back. In the time they’d been together, he hadn’t yet told her where he’d gotten the scar. She wondered if he’d ever trust her enough to reveal that part of his past.

  Spreading her hand, she stroked the uneven skin, wishing again she could smooth it, remove the memories that no doubt came with it. As broad as the mark was, and from its appearance, she guessed he’d been burned, and burned badly. Had he been an adult when it happened? Or, God help him, had he only been a child?

  He must have sensed her touch in his sleep, because he stirred, his hands flexing above the pillow. But he didn’t wake, just twisted under the covers as if trying to move away from some peril.

  “Fire!” he blurted in his sleep, writhing under Allie’s hand. “Too hot…Mom!”

  Afraid she was adding to his nightmare with her touch, Allie broke the contact. But he remained ensnared in the dream images, fingers digging into the sheet as his breathing quickened.

  “No!” He roared the single word, terror in the sound. “I can’t…I can’t… Mom!”

  Frightened, near tears, Allie sat up, slapped on the bedside light. She grabbed Lucas’s shoulder and shook him, shouting his name.

  He turned his face away. The tendons in his hands stood out in sharp relief as his fingers clawed the sheet. “No, no, no…” he moaned, then screamed, as if caught by an agonizing pain.

  Frantic now, Allie gripped his shoulder with two hands, leaned close to his ear. “Lucas! Wake up!”

  One gasping breath and he shoved himself bolt upright, scrambling back from her in the bed. She knew his gray eyes, wide with remembered terror, didn’t yet see her as he dragged in breath after breath. A shudder passed through his body as he stared blankly, then abruptly he came fully awake.

  “Allie,” he whispered, passing a hand over his face. He looked around him as if trying to work out where he was. “What…?”

  “A dream. A nightmare,” she answered. “I touched your scar. It must have set you off.”

  She tried to interpret the emotions flickering in his face—a trace of shame, embarrassment. Then he surprised her by sliding closer to her, cupping her cheek. “Thank you. For waking me.”

  He kissed her, pressing his lips lightly to hers. Gathering her into his arms, he leaned back against the headboard. When she shivered against the chill on her bare skin, he tugged the covers up over them both.

  He didn’t ask her to turn out the light and she made no move to do so. He just sat beside her, a pensive expression on his face as he ran his fingers up and down her arm.

  Allie tipped her head up to him. “How did it happen, Lucas?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  He didn’t answer right away, just gazed out at the shadowy room. “A fire,” he said finally.

  “When? How long ago?”

  He sighed, shutting his eyes. “Nearly thirty years.”

  When he was ten. Allie’s heart lurched. “What happened?”

  A familiar tension tightened his jaw and his light caresses ceased. “An apartment fire.” She felt the pressure of each individual fingertip on her arm. “I didn’t get out quick enough.”

  The trace of self-blame in his statement alarmed her. “It wasn’t your fault was it?” She pulled away slightly to look up at him. “You didn’t start the fire?”

  She saw surprise in his face as he met her gaze. “No. It was a wiring short.”

  Relief washed over her. The fire must have been horrifying enough; if he still carried the guilt of being responsible for it, a man as intense as Lucas might never forgive himself. “What a terrible thing for a child to go through.”

  “If I could have put it out…if I could have…” Shaking his head, he seemed to throw off the old memories. Then he leaned in to kiss her as his fingers resumed their caresses on her arm. “Allie,” he murmured. “You make me crazy.”

  Drawing her down to the bed, he covered her body with his. He entered her so swiftly, it stole her breath, slammed her heart into overdrive. His deep, thrusting kisses, his fingers teasing her nipples quickly drove her to climax.

  Later, with the light off again and his body spooned against hers, Allie marveled at how well he’d learned the secrets of her body. But as she drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that as much as he’d revealed to her that night, he still hid behind one last barrier. Somehow, she had to find a way to break through it.

  After that long, passionate day and night, Allie felt her marriage to Lucas had begun anew. His tender solicitude at work and at home delighted her, made her feel cherished and protected. He took pains to treat her kindly, tempering his usual abrupt, arrogant demands, his tone with her gentler, more caring.

  He touched her often, even at work, his fingers lingering on her shoulder or his hand taking hers when they walked together to a meeting. If he felt awkward with his displays of affection in front of his staff, he never showed it. He seemed determined to declare to the world his connection to her, his claim on her.

  His near-obsessiveness about their baby-to-be Allie put down to the anxiety of a first-time father. Although at first he’d seemed hesitant to talk about her pregnancy, the intimate turn to their relationship broke the logjam. He began peppering her with questions—about her due date, her diet, whether she planned to breast-feed. That last question shocked her a bit until she discovered a well-thumbed copy of a baby book in his nightstand drawer.

  When he demanded to know her doctor’s name, insisted she switch from her familiar ob-gyn to a high-priced big-name physician, she put her foot down. He didn’t take her refusal well until he accompanied her to her next appointment, saw the attentiveness of the doctor and her nurse practitioner. He’d grudgingly agreed she’d made a good choice.

  Sixteen weeks along, Allie was torn between delight at his interest and exasperation at his unrelenting inquiry. As he stood at her side in the doctor’s examination room for her first ultrasound, he never let up his third degree of Dr. Singh.

  Gripping Allie’s hand, he confronted the unflappable obstetrician as if she were a corporate enemy. “She’s still sick to her stomach. Shouldn’t that have stopped by now?”

  Prone on the examination table, Allie gave the doctor an apologetic smile. “Pregnancies don’t all go by the book, Lucas.”

  “And what about weight gain?” Lucas asked. “She’s only put on three pounds. It should have been four or five by now.”

  “Lucas,” Allie said, then sucked in a breath as Dr. Singh squeezed ice-cold conductive gel on her belly. “I’m just as happy not to gain too much.”

  “Even still—”

  “Take a look at your baby, Mr. Taylor,” Dr. Singh said, pushing the ultrasound machine toward him to give him a better view. She moved the paddle on Allie’s belly until the image cleared.

  His mouth open to grill Dr. Singh further, he stilled, absolutely thunderstruck at his first view of the screen. Keeping his grip on Allie’s hand, he moved closer to the machine. As Dr. Singh pointed out the head, the face, the tiny hands and feet of the sixteen-week-old fetus, Lucas listened, obviously entranced. The longing in his face as he gazed at that fuzzy, ill-formed image melted Allie’s heart.

  “He’s ours, isn’t he?” he asked, wonder in his voice.

  “Can’t be sure it’s a boy yet,” Dr. Singh said. “But yes, he or she is all yours.”

  Lucas swallowed convulsively as he seemed to absorb the reality of their baby. He turned to Allie, the awe still in his f
ace, silencing him.

  As they drove back to TaylorMade headquarters in a midmorning February drizzle, his silence lingered. Even when they reached the fifth floor and stepped from the elevator, he seemed in a daze as he wandered toward his office.

  “Should we do the rundown now, Lucas?” Allie asked, reaching for her laptop.

  “What?” He turned toward her, his shell-shocked expression nearly comical.

  “Your appointments for the week,” Allie said, reminding him of their morning routine. She brandished her computer.

  “Yes, right.” Opening his office door, he stepped aside to let her go in first.

  She sat in her usual spot opposite his desk, setting her computer on her lap. Bringing up the scheduling program, she read off each day’s commitments. She could see from his face that little of what she told him registered. She’d probably have to tell him the details again before the day was out.

  When his phone rang, he looked at it in surprise as if not quite sure what to do. Then he finally shook off his haze and snatched up the receiver. “Taylor,” he snapped out.

  After listening a moment, he glanced up at her, holding up a finger to let her know he needed to take the call. When she made a move to rise, he motioned her back down. Allie busied herself with rechecking her entries to be sure she’d forgotten nothing.

  His gaze strayed to her often as he spoke, as if to constantly assure himself she was still there. Although it touched her that she had become so important in his life, for his sake, she wished he would learn to trust that she would never leave him.

  She felt the faintest of fluttering and reflexively pressed a hand to her belly. His sharp eyes caught the gesture, narrowing in concern. She smiled to calm him, lightly rubbing her belly and wondering if what she felt had been the baby moving or something as mundane as gas. She had another four weeks until the five-month mark, when Dr. Singh said she would most likely feel movement.