Expecting the Boss's Baby / Twins Under His Tree: Expecting the Boss's Baby

He debated whether to torture her some more or move on. In the end, he took pity on her. “The San Cristóbal Spotlight.”

She swallowed, nodded, eager to talk more about her proposal—and to put the embarrassing incident with the ring behind her. “I’m so pleased, Dax. I can’t tell you how much this means.”

“I’ve been thinking about what month we should use it.” With relish, he delivered the bombshell. “I’m thinking January.”

Her mouth dropped open again. He really did enjoy catching her off-guard. “B-but January is already locked in.”

Yes, it was. Spotlights, along with the rest of the magazine, were planned and scheduled nine months to a year in advance.

“I run this magazine. And if I say we go to Chiapas and not Greece for January, then that’s where we go.”

“But you’re leaving for Greece in a week and a half. I have the travel arrangements all set up.”

“Then you will change them. A little spontaneity is good now and then.”

“But … what if I can’t get that fabulous hotel?”

“You’ll find another fabulous hotel. I have faith in your ingenuity and resourcefulness.” He sat back in his chair and waited for her to confess what was really bothering her.

“But I …” She had her free hand folded over the one with the broken ring in it and both of them resting on her shut laptop. She stared down—at her hands, at the laptop? He couldn’t tell which. Her slim shoulders were slumped. She almost might have been praying.

“Zoe.” He spoke softly. “You what?”

The red head lifted, the shoulders went back and the blue eyes gleamed. “I was hoping, well, that it would be a little later. At least not for a few months. Not until, um, after the rainy season ends.”

“I don’t see a little rain as that much of a problem.”

“Daily, Dax. It comes down in buckets.”

“I know my weather patterns. It rains hard, but mostly just in the afternoon.”

So much for the rainy season. She let that go and cast about for another excuse to postpone the trip. “But I, well, if you could only wait until I’ve been working for you longer, until …” Words deserted her.

He didn’t let her off the hook. “What? Tell me.”

“Oh, please.” Her heated gaze accused him. “You know. I know you know.”

“You still have to say it. That’s how it works. You have to speak up and say what you want. Come on. Look at it this way, if you don’t get what you ask for, at least you’ll know you put yourself out there, that you did everything you could to make it happen.”

She sat up even straighter. “Fine. All right. I want you to wait to do the Spotlight on San Cristóbal until you’re ready to take me along as your assistant, instead of one of the associates. That’s what I want, okay? I want to go.”

He rested his elbows on the chair arms and steepled his fingers. Yeah, he was playing this, stringing it along to enjoy her honest excitement, her clear desire to be directly involved in the feature she had just proposed. Most of the time, she was careful around him, she guarded that light in her eyes from him. She tried to keep things all business.

And he respected that, he really did. Still, it was gratifying for him, to listen to her speak with heat, with passion. To see her eagerness, her enthusiasm, her willingness to push for what she wanted, to try to get him to give her a chance, to let her take the next step.

She glared at him. “Just tell me. Just give me an answer. Will you wait for a few months to do my Spotlight?”

“No.”

Her sweet, soft mouth trembled as she pressed her lips together to keep herself from calling him a thoroughly inappropriate name. He liked that about her, too. She had passion, but she also kept herself in hand. She took care not to step over the line.

“Well.” A slow, deep breath. A toss of that flame-colored hair. “Fine, then. You were right, I needed to ask. At least I’ll never kick myself because I didn’t even try.”

“I don’t think you’ll kick yourself at all.”

She blinked. And then she gasped. She got what he was hinting at. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. It’s early, I know. But you learn fast. I think you’re ready. You’ll get to prove yourself.”

“I’m going with you?” Breathless, heartbreakingly hopeful.

“Yes, Zoe. I’m doing your Chiapas trip instead of the one to Mykonos. I’m leaving Monday, August second. And you are going with me.”

Chapter Four

“Have you made the reservations for Mexico yet?” Dax asked the next morning as he stepped out of the elevator.

Of course she had. She’d worked late the day before, getting everything set up. She handed him his coffee. “Yes. Mexicana Airlines. One stopover in Mexico City and then on to the international airport at Tuxtla Gutiérrez, the capital city of the state of Chiapas. We can get a taxi from there to …” She let the words trail off as she saw that he was shaking his head. “Is there a problem?”

He took the lid off his coffee, sniffed it the way he always did and then enjoyed a careful sip. “Cancel the flight.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“How are you in small planes?”

“With enough Dramamine, anything is possible, but—”

“Good. I’m going to fly us.”

Not in her plan. Not in the least. “Dax …”

“Don’t argue. Just do it.”

“If I could only make one little point …”

“You’re boring me, Zoe.”

“Too bad. I intend to make my point and my point is that readers like to know how you got there—on a commercial flight, just the way that they will. Especially since this is supposed to be a budget destination.”

His smile was annoyingly smug. “Now you know more than I do about what readers want in a Spotlight?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you sure as hell are thinking it. Cancel the reservation. We’re going to have some fun.”

The way he said that kind of scared her. “I, um, didn’t know you were a pilot.”

He gave her a look of endless patience. “I may be in magazine publishing now, but I spent years adventuring in the wilds, from Borneo to the South Pole.”