Page 18 of The Baby His Secretary Carries

Her mouth quivered. Tears came into her eyes. For one moment, she looked at him in a way that sent surprisingly deep claws into his heart.

“Are you afraid of him?” He braced himself for that answer because he didn’t expect to react well if she was.

“What? No. I told you that topic is off-limits.” She leaped to her feet, almost sending the chair flying again.

He caught at her, holding her still.

“Don’t move so fast. Do you want to faint again?”

She seemed made of twisted iron, there was so much tension in her. She kept her head down, refusing to look at him, but her hand curled into his sleeve, almost as though she was hanging on for dear life.

“Youarefrightened.” He sensed it in a primal way, at a level that made all his body hair stand on end in reaction.

“Not of him. Of—” She cut off her choked words. Suddenly she was made of something delicate. Strands of brittle frost. She was quivering like a leaf encased in ice. Anything could break her.

“What, then?” he demanded, trying to gentle his gruff voice.

She gave one sniff and crumpled into him. Clung.

He had woken this morning uneasy with how much of his inner life he’d allowed her to see yesterday. He hadn’t just introduced her to his grandfather, he’dkissedher in front of the old man. They were pretending an engagement and she was sleeping in his home. More than that, she was in his thoughts, provoking sexual infatuation and very deepconcern.

Now he had his hands on her again, reflexively trying to soothe away her trembles. Trying to absorb the emotions that had her in their grip while ignoring his own. He was furious, though. Furious with the man who had left her fainting and shaking, worrying for a baby on her own.

“If he’s married or a criminal... I won’t judge. I swear. But I can’t help you unless you tell me.”

She drew in a jagged breath and stepped away from him.

“I promised myself I’d be more professional today.”

He barked out a laugh since “professional” had been thrown out of the car miles ago.

“You’re the one who muddied the waters.” She flinched and hugged herself, shoulders tense and defensive. “I know this is an illusion.” She gestured at the ring she wore. “But...” Her brow pleated and she turned her gaze to the windows.

“What?” he prompted, experiencing a strange teetering sensation in his chest.

When she didn’t say anything, he gently touched her chin, wanting to see what was going on behind her troubled expression.

She pulled away and blinked her red eyes, increasing the smudges around them.

“Come on, Gio.” She swiped impatiently under her eyes. “You have to know every single, heterosexual woman in the company has a crush on you. Plus half the married ones and probably all the gay men.”

“Doyou?” He was a bastard for making her say it. He knew she was attracted to him. He’d always known. It was one of those things he actively ignored, but he wanted to hear it.

“Yes,”she choked out. Her eyes brightened with tears of mortification. “Now we’re hugging and kissing every five minutes...” She flung out a hand in an expression of how wretched she felt. “I want to help you with your grandfather, I do. But I’m also a person and I’m not a sophisticated one. I don’t date a lot or have casual relationships.”

He lifted his eyebrows, dying to ask how she’d wound up alone and pregnant.

“Don’t lead me on.” Everything from her voice to her body language reflected how excruciating she found this, revealing her attraction and begging him not to exploit it.

He wanted to exploit it. This attraction was mutual. Close to irresistible, which was difficult enough to acknowledge privately, so he veered from admitting it aloud. He would be a cad for doing so when she had explicitly asked him not to lead her on. She wasn’t a woman he could date casually to see where it led. He had to be explicit about his intentions.

“I don’t accost my employees with unwanted attention. Or wanted,” he said with an ironic curl of his lip. “Workplace romances makes for messy headlines.”

Her gaze flashed up to his. Her lashes quivered unsteadily as she searched his eyes. Humiliation stained her cheekbones.

He looked away, not wanting her to read how his fantasies were flaring to life at the knowledge she reciprocated his interest. She would see how he wanted her. Andwhere.The bath. The sofa. His desk. A flood of heat accompanied the reel of places and ways in which he wanted to make love to her.

In the charged silence, he heard her swallow.

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