Twin Ties, Twin Joys: The Boss's Double Trouble Twins / Twins for a Christmas Bride / Baby Twins: Parents Needed

She started, then grinned feebly at Cindy, her officemate who had come up to stand beside her.

“Looks like he might be my new boss,” she said ruefully.

Cindy laughed, shaking back her thick, ebony hair. “Oh the agony of it all,” she said, amusement dancing in her green eyes. “Listen, I’m willing to take your place if it will make you feel better.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Darcy said, wishing that sort of trade was actually possible. But once she’d heard what Mitch’s assigned area would be, she knew she was on shaky ground for a transfer. This was her project. Getting him transferred would be more logical. And that hardly seemed likely.

Still, there had to be some way.

Mitch should have felt right at home in the sleek offices of ACW Properties. His grandfather had started the company sixty years ago. His father had been CEO of the San Antonio branch ever since he could remember. He’d played in these halls as a child, had part-time jobs here in high school, did a summer internship. And in those days, it had all seemed natural to him.

But his relationship with his father had been destroyed shortly after his freshman year at college. In reaction, he’d rejected every part of the life his family had expected him to follow. Coming back now had been a bitter pill to swallow. It had taken emotional blackmail to make him do it.

Now he was being escorted through the building by Tanya Gayle, the long and lanky director of Human Resources. She’d offered to give him a tour of all the new facilities and from her sideways glances, he had a feeling she was offering a lot more than that. Luckily, once he’d realized he wasn’t going to get out of it, he’d had the presence of mind to bring along Paula Pinter, his new secretary and the woman who had baby-sat for him here in the office as a child. There was nothing like the addition of a sweet, gray-haired older woman to tamp down the fires of office romance.

Tanya escorted him into the workout room as though she’d been personally responsible for it herself, explaining as she went how it was company policy that each employee take an extra fifteen minutes at lunch to get in some exercise.

“Really. Who made that decision?”

“Your father, I imagine.”

“No kidding.”

Mitch raised an eyebrow. That seemed a bit ironic, considering the way his father used to spend his lunch hours in the old days.

The Carvers had always been community leaders. To the outside world, they looked like an ideal family. But the public face had been in many ways a false one. Mitch and his brother Dylan spent part of their youth covering up the truth about their father’s drinking and the ugly fights that sometimes tore apart their homelife.

Pushing away bad memories, he glanced around the room, noting a full complement of employees in colorful workout uniforms. And then his eye was caught by Darcy on a treadmill. She had on earphones and was working hard, looking determined. He watched her for a moment. Paula noticed where his gaze was directed.

“That’s Darcy Connors,” she said helpfully. “She’s down here every day, a real role model to us all.”

“Yes, she’s worked hard to get back that trim and girlish figure,” Tanya chimed in. “And she’s done a great job. We’re all jealous.”

Mitch frowned. Get back her girlish figure? Where’d it gone? It had certainly been present when he’d known her before. He turned to ask Tanya what she meant, but Paula had pulled out a bright jersey tank top in the company colors with his name on it.

“Surprise!” they said in unison.

He swallowed his question and tried to look pleased.

“Put it on,” Paula urged.

“Right now? Right here?”

“Why not? Come on. We’ll see if it fits.”

He shrugged. Why not, indeed? He was here for the year and he might as well make the best of it. Fitting in with the crowd was part of that, he supposed. So instead of getting his exercise racing after bad guys in the jungle, he was going to get on machines, was he? Oh well. Yanking off his tie, he began working on the buttons of his shirt.

Darcy had developed the habit of spending most of her lunch hour on the treadmill. Not only did she get a good workout, but it also gave her the time and space to set her mind free and think things through. And today she had a lot to think about.

All the other machines were filled with other employees. She paid no attention to them, but when Mitch arrived in the room, somehow she sensed it. Biting her lip, she tried to stay focused and ignore him. But finally she had to turn her head, just in time to see him begin to pull off his crisp white shirt. She held her breath, and when she realized what she was doing, she closed her eyes for a moment, cursing softly.

When she opened them again, she saw that beautiful body and steeled herself. And then she saw something else. There across his chest was a jagged line of scarring that she knew hadn’t been there when she’d known him. It looked fiery and painful and she gasped so loud, heads turned all up and down the room. He looked up and her gaze locked with his, but only for seconds.

She stumbled on the treadmill, losing her pace and almost losing her balance, her heart beating wildly. That beautiful body and that ugly scar. His skin had been smooth and flawless when she’d last seen it, touched it. What on earth had happened to him?

She drew a deep breath, reminding herself she wasn’t going to let emotions tangle up her life again. Whatever had happened to him was none of her business. She had two babies to raise and protect and that was enough for her to deal with.

Turning up the mileage on the treadmill, she worked harder, hoping to blot out his presence on the other side of the room. But she was beginning to wonder if she was ever going to be free of him again. And suddenly her mind was full of what it had been like two years before, right after Mitch had left for South America.

She’d been walking on air. Of course he’d told her he wasn’t in the market for a lasting relationship, and she’d accepted that at the time. But something deep inside had whispered lies of wishful thinking to her. Those two days had been magic. She’d never known a man like Mitch, never felt the crazy excitement, the overwhelming affection, the deep and undeniable need she’d felt with him. They had been so good together. She knew he felt the same way. She knew he was just as reluctant to leave her as she had been to let him go. She’d been so sure he would contact her again, despite everything he’d said. How could two people fall madly into love for a weekend and then walk away without a backward glance? It just didn’t seem possible.

One week went by. Then another. She was still so sure that she would hear from him soon. With Jimmy totally wrapped up in his racing, spending every free moment at the track, and things at work more difficult than she’d ever expected, she felt very much alone. And then came the horrible afternoon when Jimmy’s Formula One car crashed during a practice run. He was rushed to the hospital and died later that night. Darcy had been the one to call his mother with the news—the one to accompany his body back to Texas, the one who supported his mother at the funeral. For days that was all she could think about.

And then she realized she was pregnant.

By then Mitch had seemed very far away. And when she couldn’t find him or get in touch with him, she began to resent him—as though he’d done this to her and then run out on his responsibilities. Again, it was like something out of a book or a movie, only now it had turned from romance to dark drama. A character study in male dependability.

She’d had her babies. She’d gone through it all alone. It wasn’t easy, but she was managing. And suddenly, he’d turned up again.

It was all wrong. Things weren’t happening in the right order. If only she’d been able to get hold of him right when she realized the babies were on the way. She knew he had no interest in being a father. He’d told her as much that night in Paris—and by the time she knew she was pregnant, she was ready to believe what he’d said was the last word after all. She wouldn’t have asked all that much of him. But at least he would have been moral support. She wouldn’t have had to make all the decisions on her own. There would have been someone to share things with, even if just in letters or phone calls.

Okay, she was starting to sound whiny now, even to herself. Enough. This was a situation, but she could handle it. She’d toughened a lot over the last two years. She’d handled everything up to now pretty well, hadn’t she? And she could do this, too.

Turning off the machine, she grabbed a towel, wiped her face, then threw it around her shoulders, turning to step off. And there was Mitch, waiting for her.

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t stop.

“Are you stalking me?” she asked, brushing past him and trying to ignore the lovely bulging muscles his company tank top revealed.

“I’d only be doing that if you were avoiding me,” he pointed out. “Are you?”

Turning back, she looked at him. Her first thought was that he had some nerve accusing her of being ellusive. He was the original Houdini in her life. But as her gaze met his, she felt her resentment melting. It was those huge blue eyes with those gorgeous dark lashes. She was a sucker for that look—always had been.

“No, of course not,” she said. And silently, she raged at herself. “Wimp!”

“Good. Because I think we need to talk. Why don’t you meet me in my office in half an hour?”

She nodded. This was it. Her heart was pounding. “Okay,” she said, then turned and marched toward the women’s locker room.

He was right. They did need to talk, about so many things. The question was, should she tell him now? Could she tell him now?

“We’ll play it by ear,” she told herself reassuringly as she slipped into her work clothes. But that was no good. She knew she was just giving herself an out that way. With a sigh, she rejected that and got back to business. There had to be a hundred different ways to broach the subject and get it over with. Why was it that she couldn’t think of any?

Focus! she ordered herself as she started walking back to her desk. Think! And once she started trying a little harder, ideas began to come to her. Not that any of them were any good. Still, she’d started the juices flowing.

There really were so many options. There was the blunt method. She could walk into his office, plunk a picture of the almost-fifteen-month-old twins down on the desk in front of him and say, “Look at these. See any resemblance?”

Dropping down into her chair, she made a face. A bit crass, perhaps. But it was a start. Leaning on her elbows, she frowned, deep in thought.