The Executive's Baby

by Robin Wells

  Probably because he’d put so much effort into trying to convince himself he was over her, mocked a silent voice in his head.

  The thought irritated him. He was over her. He’d moved away and hadn’t had any contact with her in two years.

  Oh, yeah? So why had he jumped at the opportunity to come back to Phoenix? the niggling voice silently taunted.

  Nick raked a hand through his hair in frustration, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the steering wheel. Rachel had had nothing to do with his decision to move back here, he silently asserted. He’d been working toward this promotion for years. Besides, Phoenix was a great place to raise a child, and now that he had the responsibility of Jenny, that was certainly a consideration.

  The thought of Jenny caused an odd tightening sensation in his chest. He wasn’t afraid to kayak a raging river, jump out of an airplane at ten thousand feet or climb a bald-faced cliff, but he was terrified of his seventeen-pound niece.

  What he knew about kids would fit on the nose of a gnat. He hadn’t been around any since he was one himself, and judging from the way Jenny reacted to him, he obviously didn’t have much of a natural knack for dealing with them.

  It was a good thing Rachel had agreed to help him out tonight. He’d hated having to ask her for a favor, but he’d been at the end of his rope.

  He glanced at her in the rearview mirror, guilt tightening his stomach. He had no right asking her for favors—not after the abrupt way he’d left. He owed her an apology and an explanation. He’d give her both before the evening was over, he promised himself, climbing out of his car and striding to Rachel’s Toyota.

  She lowered the automatic window as he walked toward her. Bending down, he leaned through it. Her navy skirt had ridden up her thighs, and the sight of her slender legs against the blue upholstery of the car seat made his mouth go dry. He’d always loved Rachel’s legs. Long and supple and tanned, they’d played a key role in many an erotic fantasy.

  Well, he darn sure couldn’t afford to fantasize now. With an effort he pulled his gaze away. “How did Jenny weather the ride?”

  “She was a perfect passenger.”

  Nick peered into the back seat and saw that the baby was sound asleep in the car seat he’d strapped into Rachel’s car at the corporate office.

  “She dozed off before we even left the parking lot,” Rachel reported.

  Nick shook his head in amazement. “She’s an entirely different kid when she’s with you.”

  “Well, most babies fall asleep when they ride in a car.”

  “Couldn’t prove it by me. Jenny cried for two straight hours on the trip from Lawton to the Oklahoma City airport this morning, then screamed like a banshee on the ride from the Phoenix airport to the office.”

  Rachel gave him a sympathetic smile. Once again, Nick found his gaze riveted on her eyes. He’d always loved her eyes, had always thought they looked as inviting as a feather bed on a snowy day—a warm, soft, comforting place he could fall into and never leave.

  Which was exactly why he had left.

  Jerking his gaze away, Nick straightened and turned to the house. “So what do you think of this place?”

  “It’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to see the inside.”

  Nick glanced in the back seat. “I guess that means we need to take Jenny out of her car seat, huh? Any chance we can do it without waking her up?”

  “Oh, we need to wake her. You said she hasn’t eaten all day. If she doesn’t get something in her tummy, she probably won’t sleep through the night.” Rachel lifted the diaper bag from the passenger seat and smiled reassuringly. “But don’t worry. After a nice meal and a warm bath, she’s sure to doze right back off.”

  “I can’t tell you how much I hope you’re right.”

  Rachel’s eyes grew teasing. “She really traumatized you, didn’t she?”

  “Completely.”

  Rachel’s smile widened, and he was momentarily dumbstruck by the way it changed her face. He’d forgotten about the little dimple on her right cheek, forgotten the way a smile made her whole face shine and blossom.

  He opened her door, then reached out his hand to help Rachel out of the car. She hesitated, then took it. A current of energy raced through him as her fingers curled around his. He’d always felt sparks whenever they touched, always felt a surge of heat whenever she’d entered the room.

  Making a mental note to guard against future physical contact, he released her hand as soon as she was on her feet, took the pink diaper bag from her and opened the back door.

  Rachel promptly leaned in and bent over the car seat. “Hello there, sweetie,” she murmured to the baby. “Welcome to your new home.”

  Jenny opened her eyes, then rubbed them sleepily. Rachel unfastened the child’s safety strap and lifted her out The baby snuggled cozily against her shoulder as Nick closed the door.

  Rachel glanced at him. “She seems pretty docile right now. Do you want to try holding her?”

  He’d prefer walking barefoot over burning coals, but he couldn’t very well admit that to Rachel. “I don’t want to upset her again,” he hedged.

  “Now that she’s calmed down, I’ll bet you two will get along fine. She’s been around you all day, so she’s probably used to you by now.”

  Jenny was used to him, all right—used to screaming in his ear and flailing at him like a prizefighter. But Rachel was looking at him expectantly, and he didn’t want her to think he was baby-whipped. “Okay,” he reluctantly agreed, hoisting the diaper bag to his shoulder. “I’ll give it a try.”

  Nick reached out his arms, and Rachel transferred the child into them. The infant instantaneously kicked him in the gut and yelped like a howler monkey.

  “I don’t think she’s ready to be friends.” Nick rapidly passed the screaming infant back to Rachel.

  The baby quieted with annoying speed. Not that he could blame her, Nick thought wryly, rubbing the spot on his belly where Jenny had scored a direct hit. He remembered all too well how it felt to be wrapped in Rachel’s arms—to feel her silky hair against his cheek, her soft breasts against his chest, her heart pounding next to his.

  Good grief, he had to get his thoughts under control. Jerking his gaze away from Rachel, Nick abruptly gestured to the house. “Let’s go inside.”

  He strode to the front door, pulled out a key and unlocked the double oak doors that formed the impressive entrance. Carrying the now-smiling baby, Rachel walked inside as Nick flicked the light switch by the door.

  The flagstone floor in the foyer, as well as the walls, were the color of sun-bleached sand. So was the thick carpeting in the living room and the upholstery on the elegant high-backed chairs in the adjacent dining room. The entire house, it seemed, was decorated in soothing shades of cream and beige and tan, and filled with beautiful South-western-style furnishings.

  “It’s lovely,” Rachel murmured.

  “Yeah, it’s not bad,” Nick agreed.

  They wandered through the first floor, past a study with an oak desk and a computer, through a cozy den and into a breakfast nook overlooking the lush back lawn. They ended up in a large kitchen with pickled wood cabinetry and a white granite countertop.

  Nick opened the door to a cupboard and was glad to see that the relocation specialist had stocked it as requested. Rows of baby juice, baby food and cereal lined the shelves.

  “How do you know what to feed her?” Rachel asked.

  “Her pediatrician in Oklahoma sent a list. I’m supposed to introduce a new food every week.” He leaned toward the baby and grinned. “Hey, kiddo, look at this. Looks like we’ve got the entire contents of the local grocery store’s baby food aisle in here just for you.”

  Jenny whimpered and hid her face against Rachel’s neck. Holy cow, you’d think he had horns and six eyes, he thought with dismay.

  “Was it something I said? Do I need a breath mint?” He pulled back his jacket and pretended to check his underarms. “Maybe my twenty-four-hour deodo
rant has expired.”

  Jenny refused to look at him, but at least he made Rachel laugh.

  “Don’t take it personally,” she told him, patting the baby’s back. “Jenny’s tired and hungry and probably wet. Why don’t we find the nursery and change her diaper? Then we can feed her, give her a bath and put her to bed.”

  Each task sounded like a daunting undertaking. “Boy, am I ever glad you’re here. Where did you learn so much about babies?”

  Rachel started walking toward the staircase. “I took some courses in early-childhood education when I was in college.”

  Adjusting the diaper bag on his shoulder, Nick looked at her curiously. “That’s an odd thing to combine with a major in accounting.”

  “Actually, it started out the other way around. I planned to major in early-childhood education. I’d always dreamed of owning and operating a preschool, but my parents talked me out of it.”

  He’d never known that about her. “Why?”

  Rachel shrugged. “They thought it was too risky. They showed me a bunch of statistics about the number of small businesses that fail every year, and pretty much convinced me I’d be destined for a life of insecurity and poverty. My folks have always been big proponents of security.”

  Nick remembered her telling him as much. “They’re both accountants, aren’t they?”

  Rachel nodded. “I’m a chip off both old blocks.” She gazed at him wistfully. “You’re lucky your parents didn’t want you to follow in their footsteps.”

  Nick gave a tight, humorless laugh. “Oh, but they did.”

  Rachel’s brows raised in surprise. “I never knew that.” There was a lot about Nick that she didn’t know, she mused. She knew almost nothing about his childhood or his family, aside from the fact he was raised on a farm in southeastern Oklahoma. He always changed the subject when the topic came up.

  He did so now. “Surely you didn’t learn everything you know about babies from books.”

  “I did a lot of baby-sitting when I was a teenager.”

  “You did? I’m surprised.”

  “Why?”

  His eyes surveyed her with frankly masculine appreciation. “I can’t imagine that you had very many dateless Saturday nights.”

  As ridiculous as she knew it was, the flirtatious remark gave her a rush of pleasure. Rachel shifted the baby to her hip and started up the thickly carpeted staircase. “Oh, I was a real wallflower in high school.”

  “That’s hard to imagine.”

  Rachel grinned ruefully. Nick was probably the only man in the world who hadn’t noticed she was still a wallflower—just a few shades shy of being completely invisible. In fact, Rachel had always thought that her most outstanding attribute was her ability to blend in. Everything about her was average—her height, her build, her shade of brown hair, her features. She could easily be the poster child for humdrum.

  The funny thing was, when she was with Nick, she didn’t feel average or humdrum at all. She felt alive and attractive and special. And interesting. Exciting, even.

  That alone should have told her that their relationship had no future, she thought wryly. It clearly hadn’t been based on reality.

  “So when did you outgrow this wallflower phase?” Nick asked.

  Rachel tossed a flippant grin over her shoulder. “Oh, I’m still working on it.” She scurried the rest of the way up the stairs, ending up in a large sitting area that lay at the top of the landing. The hallway extended both to the left and to the right.

  Making a guess, Rachel turned left and walked into a darkened room. Nick followed behind her and flipped on the light

  Oh, dear—she’d led him into the master bedroom. And it was a decidedly sensuous one at that. Decorated in shades of white and beige and cream, it almost looked like a bridal suite. The room was dominated by a massive oak bed. Filmy, sheer fabric hung like a veil from its tall, straight canopy, tied back at each of the four posters. With its mix of heavy, masculine furniture and feminine, airy fabrics, the room had an inviting, seductive air. The oversize Jacuzzi in the master bath around the corner looked far from strictly utilitarian, either.

  Swallowing hard, Rachel took a step back, only to bump squarely into Nick. He reached out and caught her from behind, his hands on her waist. Even through her jacket, the feel of his hands sent a jolt of attraction racing through her.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled. She wasn’t sure if she imagined it or if his hands actually tightened imperceptibly. She only knew that her breath froze in her throat and that his touch sent her thoughts tumbling into the past, back two and a half years to the first time he’d ever kissed her.

  It had been a Saturday afternoon in January, a beautiful, warm, dry afternoon that exemplified the reason people move to Arizona. She and Nick had spent the day with several of their co-workers, climbing Squaw Mountain. Somewhere, in the course of the climb, the attraction that had been building between them for weeks at the office caught fire. Every look, every gesture, every word had seemed magnified, amplified, laden with meaning.

  They’d loitered at the mountain’s peak, letting the others go down before them. Nick had stood behind her. When they found themselves alone, he’d lightly rested his hands on her waist. His touch had set her heart pounding. They were yards away from the mountain’s edge, but when Nick lifted her hair and kissed her on the back of the neck, she’d felt as if she were falling.

  And then she’d turned around and fallen the rest of the way. When his lips had claimed hers, she’d gotten goose bumps, she’d seen stars, she’d heard waves crashing, although the ocean was hundreds of miles away.

  She almost felt the same way now, just remembering it. It was both a relief and a disappointment when the baby caught sight of Nick over Rachel’s shoulder and let out a wail of protest.

  Nick raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I promise to keep my distance, Jenny.”

  He made no such promise to her, Rachel noted. She could feel the heat of his gaze upon her, could feel the charge of energy in the air between them. Repositioning the baby in front of her like a shield, Rachel stepped away from him, feigning a keen interest in the decor. “What a beautiful room.”

  Nick gave a slow nod. “It’s got definite possibilities.”

  The remark did nothing to put her at ease. Her legs still strangely weak, Rachel clutched Jenny and watched him prowl around like a lion inspecting his lair. He opened the drawers in the oak bureau, ran his hand across the damask upholstery of the chaise lounge in the corner, peered into the sensuous bathroom, then crossed the room to the bed. Sitting down, he gave the mattress a tentative bounce.

  He looked across the room and met her gaze, his mouth curving into a slow, sexy grin. “You know, it hardly seems fair.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve spent two and a half years dreaming about getting you into my bedroom. Now that I finally have, we’ve got a pint-size chaperone along.”

  Rachel felt her face flame. The temperature in the room seemed to rise, as well, and her thoughts flew back to a night two years ago when she’d nearly ended up in that very spot

  It had been a Saturday night, two months after that first kiss, two months in which they’d grown nearly inseparable. They’d spent a magical day together at the Arizona Renaissance Festival, then returned to Nick’s apartment to watch a movie. As they snuggled on his leather sofa, the movie was soon forgotten as the attraction between them blazed to blow-torch intensity.

  They’d been tangled in each other’s arms, aroused and drugged by deep, steamy kisses and increasingly inadequate caresses. With a long, deep sigh that had sounded as if it was dredged from the bottom of his soul, Nick had reluctantly pulled away.

  “I’d better take you home before we do something we’ll both regret.”

  “What makes you think we’d regret it?” she’d whispered.

  Nick had uttered a guttural groan. “You’re not making this any easier.” His breathing had been labored, his voi
ce raw and raspy. He’d sat up and rubbed his jaw. “You’re a forever kind of woman, Rachel, and I’m just a for-a-while kind of guy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re the kind of woman who needs commitment and a future, and I can’t offer you that.” Sighing again, Nick had run a hand down his face. “I’m not what you need, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Who says you will?”

  “I do. I have no interest in ever settling down. I was tied down as a kid, working on my family’s farm, and when I left, I promised myself I’d never get tied down again.” He’d looked at her, his gaze straightforward, his expression pained. “I’m just not the settling-down type. But you...” He’d slowly traced her cheekbone with his fingertip. “You are.” Rising from the sofa, he’d taken her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on. I’ll take you home. And from here on out, I think we’d better watch all our movies in a theater. I don’t know that I’m noble enough to stop like this again.”

  The creak of the bed drew her back to the present as Nick rose and walked toward her. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “I’m not upset.”

  “Well, that bedroom crack was a lame attempt at a joke. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  It wasn’t exactly embarrassment that was heating her face. The room had grown too close for comfort, too fraught with memories and emotions she’d long tried to bury.

  “You didn’t. It’s okay.” She pasted a smile on her face that she knew was overly bright and artificial, but it was the best she could muster under the circumstances. How, oh how was she going to manage to work with him on a daily basis, with all that had happened between them hovering in the air like a ghost?

  She didn’t know. She only knew she needed to guard her heart when around him. She couldn’t allow herself to indulge in memories or flights of fancy or wishful thinking. He was the same old Nick, with the same devastating charm, the same way of making her head swim and her heart race, the same way of making her futilely wish that things could be other than the way they were.