Page 39 of Baby Bodyguard

“Do you think you’d have gotten past him any better than you could get past me?”

“If the interview had turned ugly, I’d have fought him.”

“I don’t doubt you would have. You’re scrappy, I’ll give you that. But you’re only five foot two or three. Let’s be generous and say you weigh a whole buck ten.”

She started to correct him, thought better of it, and fell silent.

“Are you beginning to understand, Sami?” He spread his arms wide. “I’m six foot one and run a solid one-eighty-five. Now picture me naked and determined.”

“Oh, don’t try and make me feel better!” she snapped. “You should have quit when you were ahead and I was scared spitless.”

He didn’t dare follow up on that telling comment. He fought to cover his amusement by rekindling his anger. Not that it took much effort. “You bring a stranger into your house. You tell him you want to have his baby. And then you say you’re in a big hurry—and by big, Imean huge.” She started at hearing her own words repeated back to her. “I don’t know why you’re surprised or shocked or even mildly intrigued when he takes you at your word.”

“You were listening.”

“You’re damn right I was listening! And by the way, what the hell was all that about roses and daisies?” He grimaced. Apparently digressing was contagious. “Are those the sorts of questions you asked all the people you interviewed?”

“Are you done yelling at me?”

“I’m not sure.”

She planted her fists on her hips. “If you’re through, I’ll answer.”

“Fine.” He couldn’t resist a final warning. “But, sweetheart, Iswear if you ever do anything this foolish again, Iwill personally make certain you regret it.” He considered the other two thousand threats he’d like to make and decided to save them for next time. Because he didn’t have a single doubt there would be a next time. “Okay, now I’m done. Explain about the flowers.”

“I was attempting to establish whether he had any romantic interest in me.”

“Oh, Ithink he established that just fine.”

“Not that sort of interest! Don’t you get it? Roses?”

He shook his head. “I must be particularly dense. Ihaven’t a clue what they’re supposed to mean in relation to your interview.”

“Red roses symbolize everlasting love. Men give them to women they’re interested in courting. Or to express serious intent.”

“No,” he instantly corrected. “Men give flowers because women go starry-eyed over them and allow the sorry SOBs to get away with things they wouldn’t otherwise have a chance in hell of getting away with. In case you’re interested, men regard flowers in precisely two ways. One. They’re an easy way into a woman’s bed. Or two. They’re an easy way to get out of trouble with a woman and back into her bed.”

“You’re such a cynic!”

“No, I’m a realist. And here’s one more fact you can file away. Roses are only utilized as a last resort.”

He’d gotten her with that one. “Why?”

“Because they’re too damned expensive to use unless all other methods have failed. Trust me. Ilearned from an expert.”

She stared at him, stricken. “Your father?”

“Let’s just say I received quite an interesting education from dear old Dad.” He dismissed the subject with a careless shrug. “Which brings us back to my original question. Why force your prospective baby-makers to choose between a rose and a daisy?”

“I wish you’d stop calling them that,” she complained. He responded with a lifted eyebrow and she caved. “Oh, all right. Imake them choose because if they pick the rose it means they’re hoping to romance me. Idon’t want a romantic affair. Iwant daisies.”

“You’re not getting either one, sweetheart. All you’re going to end up with is serious trouble. You were lucky. Imanaged to discourage Mr. Sylvester without too much effort. What happens if the next guy is more persistent?”

“You know his name?” As usual she’d gone off on a tangent. “How long were you under that window?”

“Long enough.”

He watched as she struggled to recall what had been said. She even started checking off on her fingers, allowing him to silently follow along. First she’d asked Sylvester’s name. Then she’d made sure he understood the nature of her ad. And then she’d told him about Noah. Granted, she hadn’t called him by name. But she’d said enough for him to figure out who she meant. Best of all, she’d described him as “perfect.” He waited for her to remember that vital detail. It took less than ten seconds.

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