Bossman's Baby Scandal / Executive's Pregnancy Ultimatum: Bossman's Baby Scandal / Executive's Pregnancy Ultimatum

“You come back to New York in two weeks, but we leave the engagement on the books to quiet your mom and my client.” He clasped her finger and folded it against his chest, enfolding her in the warmth of his touch and chocolate-brown eyes.

“After a while, we can say time apart took its toll.”

“Hey, we just became engaged.” His thumb rasped along the inside of her wrist, her pulse leaping in response. “Do we have to plan the breakup already?”

“Quit trying to make me laugh.” And quit trying to turn me on.

He linked their fingers, holding her as firmly with his molten brown gaze. “But you have the most beautiful smile. Call me a selfish bastard, but I like to see it.”

The heat of his hand and his eyes stoked the barely banked fire inside her. She needed to hold strong.

Lauren eased her hand away. “I have one final condition.”

“Name it. I’ll make it happen.”

Lauren clasped the arms of her chair to keep her hands off him and her resolve in place. “Under no circumstances will we be sleeping together again.”

She’d agreed to go to California to give herself breathing room to regroup, to save her company and, yes, to help him secure his job. But she refused to let him blindside her a second time. She couldn’t risk the way sex with Jason stole her ability to think straight.

As she stared at his broad shoulders and steamy brown eyes, she wondered if she’d cut off her nose to spite her face.

Jason had known he would win in the end. Still, he was damn glad to be pulling up to his home in San Francisco’s Mission District with Lauren firmly planted in the seat next to him. Sure, she’d tossed that “no sex” clause into the agreement, a frustrating turn. Not unexpected, though. And not insurmountable. He’d seen the arousal in her eyes, the tightening of her nipples under her sweater.

He had hope.

Their day traveling together had gone well in a chartered flight with a catered supper on Sunday night. He’d bided his time and kept things low-key. He had two weeks to win her over, and he wasn’t going to blow it on the first day by pushing too fast. Right now, he needed to focus on getting her settled into his restored Victorian house for the night as smoothly as possible.

The streetlamps brightened the inside of the sedan. Lauren pressed her hand to the window of his Saab, her eyes widening. “You have a house.”

“I don’t live in my car.”

She laughed lightly, then looked back at the house as he drove around to the garage. “I just expected you to live in some cool condo in a singles’ complex.” She looked closer and gasped. “And look at that window box next door. They already have some flowers in January. This is all so … domestic.”

He hadn’t thought of it that way and wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the label. He turned off the ignition and closed the garage door. “When I was in the Navy, I spent so much time on a cramped ship and on the road. I’m ready for a space of my own.”

“Babies are noisy and take up lots of room.”

“Unless you’re pregnant with a dozen sailors, I don’t think we’re going to have a problem with space.” Winking, he stepped out of the car and opened the door for her, leading her out to the covered walkway connecting the new garage to the historic, million-dollar home.

He’d bought the property for its location. As he walked up the steps to the side entrance, he saw the details anew through Lauren’s artistic eyes—an old remolded Victorian home, gray with white trim. Hardwood floors stretched throughout, the newly refinished sheen gleaming as he flicked on the lights. Crown molding and multipaned stained-glass windows had made it too good an investment to pass up.

“This is absolutely gorgeous.” She spun on her heel, her loose dress swirling around her calves. Her pinup-girl curves and beauty sucker punched him.

Jason loosened his tie. “I like being at the center of things.”

“Does that mean you’re not a workaholic anymore?” She skimmed her fingers along the marble fireplace mantel, her gaze skipping around the room with obvious appreciation.

He’d known the vintage home would appeal to her. He hadn’t been shopping for the two of them when he’d bought the house, but appreciated the dumb luck of owning a home she liked. Or would that qualify as having something in common?

“My time for recreation is very limited. Having restaurants and nightlife more accessible makes sense.”

She traced the chair rail down the hall. “What a find.”

He set her luggage at the foot of the stairs. “The couple who lived here before remodeled the whole place, wiring and all. They even gutted and updated the kitchen and baths.”

“So how did you luck into it?” Her auburn hair swished along her back as she looked over her shoulder at him.

“Apparently the renovations put a strain on their marriage and they ended up in divorce court. It looked like they broke up in the middle of a project. The upstairs guest bath still had the materials for wallpaper stripping set up in the tub.” He’d been working so hard landing the Prentice account, he’d only gotten around to clearing out that guest bathroom the week before. “Neither of them could afford to keep the house on their own, so they sold it.”

“How sad.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, accentuating her lush curves. “Don’t you worry about stepping into all that bad karma?”

“I would worry more about paying the extra cash to get the same house down the road.”

“I guess so,” she said, her soft voice bouncing around the nearly empty space. “What about furniture?”

He glanced at the bare walls and mostly vacant rooms. A few moving boxes were stacked in a corner in each room. He just pulled out what he needed as he needed it. “I haven’t had time to pick anything out and my old place came furnished. So once I got here, I bought the bare basics and went to work. I figured I might as well wait to do it right rather than buy a bunch of crap I regret later on.” He gestured for her to follow him. “Come on back to the kitchen. I have seats and food.”

“You could hire a decorator.” Her footsteps echoed down the hall on her way into the kitchen. Her gasp of pleasure at the spacious layout made him smile.

“I can wait. I have everything I need.” He steered her toward one of the two bar stools at the mammoth island between the kitchen and eating area. “A recliner, a big TV. There’s a bed upstairs with a top-of-the-line mattress.”

Her lips went tight as she sat, resting her elbows on the Brazilian-granite countertop. “Where will I be sleeping?”

“In my bed of course.” His temperature spiked at just the words. He opened the refrigerator. “Bottled water? Fruit?”

“Yes, please.” She stood and took the drink and grapes from him. “Then I hope for your sake that your guest room has a comfy bed or sofa.”

God, he loved the way she didn’t take his bull, just quietly lobbing the serve back to him. “No furniture there, either. I’ll sleep in the recliner for now and have another mattress delivered.”

“That really sucks for you tonight, because I am not going to feel sorry for you and invite you to share the bed.” She tipped back her water.

“You’re heartless.” He slid a hand behind her waist and brought a grape to her lips.

“I’m fairly certain I made myself clear about the sleeping arrangements before we left New York.” She plucked the grape from his hands and popped it into her mouth.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” His thumb stroked along her spine as he watched her eyes for any signs of arousal—like the widening of her pupils, the pulse along her neck quickening.

“Jason, we can’t just sleep together for a couple of weeks and then have a civil relationship. It’s not logical. We have a child to think about. We can’t afford to take risks.”

Since she hadn’t shoved him away, he urged her a little closer until she stood between his knees. “Don’t you think our kid would like to see us together?”

“Are you suddenly magically ready for a long-term relationship? Because you damn well weren’t prepared for that four months ago.”

His eye twitched. “Sure, why not?”

“How charming.” Her lip curled. She shoved his arms away and charged toward the stairs.

“Hey, I’m trying here.” He spread his arms wide, following. “This is uncharted territory for me, too.”