The Boss's Pregnancy Proposal

“What are you talking about? It’s after ten o’clock. I can’t call her.”

“Call her. She won’t mind.”

His dark eyebrows rose. “Do you know her?”

She gave him a tight smile. “I know sisters.”

He stared at her for a long moment, and then something changed in his face.

“All right.”

He picked up his cell and punched in a code, then put it to his ear. “Hi, Gena. It’s Grant. Sorry to call so late, hon. No, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to say ‘hi’ and…”

It must have been because he didn’t see the move coming that she was able to get the phone away from him so easily. It obviously hadn’t occurred to him that anyone would do such a thing. But she could tell his conversation with his sister was going nowhere, so she turned, zeroed in on her target and snatched the receiver right out of his unsuspecting hand, then quickly moved out of his reach while she pressed it to her ear.

“Hi, Gena. This is Callie Stevens.”

“What the…?” he growled.

She waved away his rude expletive.

“You don’t know me. I work…er, I used to work for your brother. I just wanted to let you know that he’s just had an accident….”

Grant swore again, but she ignored it.

“No, no, he’s fine. But he is…damaged, so to speak.” She made a face at him. “He’s got a cut lip and it looks like it needs stitches to me. It keeps bleeding, and…Oh, great. Yes, we’re at the office. Thanks.”

She handed him back his telephone and gave him a superior smile. “She’s coming right over.”

“What?”

“She said she’s only minutes away.”

“Wait one dang-burned second here,” he said, his blue eyes frosty. “I’m getting confused. Who got fired today, you or me?”

The superior smile was working, so she kept it up. “You’ll be taken care of. So I figure we’re even now. And I’m leaving.”

His expression hardened. “Not yet. The key, please.” He held out his hand.

She bit her lip and tried to look innocent. “What key?”

“The one you must have used to get into the building tonight.”

Oh, that key.

It was one she’d had for opening the office early a few months before and she’d found it with her things when she’d gone through the boxes of stuff from her desk. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled it out and handed it to him.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”

She turned toward the door. “Write me a letter.”

He rose and followed her. “I’m quite serious. I’ve got something I need to discuss with you. I’ve got some ideas on ways we could use you here at ACW. How would you like your job back?”

There was a certain sense of satisfaction in hearing his words. This was almost an apology, wasn’t it? At any rate, it was an admission that she shouldn’t have been fired.

Yeah. That and a quarter will get you a ride on a pony. Big deal.

She turned back and studied his eyes. “You could do that?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have let my uncle fire you in the first place if I’d known his plans. I’ve been out of the office all week, as you know, and I only found out that he’d scuttled the entire research department when I got back this afternoon.”

She hesitated, considering. “What makes you think I would want to come back to a place that’s treated me so shabbily?”

He looked pained. “Please, no more self-righteous speeches. I thought you desperately needed this job. What happened to all your tales of woe?”

She started to speak, then thought better of it and shook her head. But she turned back, because she’d forgotten her orchid again. It would be completely ridiculous to leave it behind after all the trouble she’d taken to get it.

“You weren’t really lobbying to get your job back, were you?” he said, eyes narrowing. “You were just trying to make me feel bad. Is that it?”

She looked up at him and didn’t answer. What could she say? He was only partly right.

For some reason, this seemed to anger him. His hand gripped her arm, fingers curling around it.

“Just between you and me, Ms. Stevens,” he said coolly, staring down into her eyes in a way that made her heart pound, “I don’t feel bad. I never do.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She prepared to yank her arm away from his grip, but he released her before she had the chance.

“Just be here first thing in the morning,” he said. He glanced at the open calendar on his desk. “Oh, wait. Damn. I’ve got a couple of important meetings in the morning. It’ll have to be after lunch.” He looked up at her. “How about two o’clock? Right here in my office.”

She couldn’t muster any more of the superior smile shtick. Her lips were beginning to ache. So she made do with a superior shrug. “I’ll think about it.”

He saw right through her facade. “I’m sure you will,” he said, his voice tinged with just a touch of sarcasm. “And while you’re at it, think about this.” He gathered her pot shards and the still-perky orchid plant and stuffed them into a drawer in his desk. “You don’t get your orchid unless you show up.”

She sprang toward him, as though to rescue her plant, but he was ready for her this time and she stopped herself at the last second to avoid another close contact with his large, hard body.

“You can’t do that,” she cried in outrage. “That’s my property!”

It was his turn to try the superior smile.

“And you are here after breaking into my property. So I guess we’re even again.”

She felt like pouting. Jaw rigid, she held out her hand. “May I have my orchid, please?” she said.

“You know, I don’t think I’m going to let you take it.”

She glared at him. “That’s despicable.”

A half smile was curving his full lips. “I think I’m going to hang on to it to make sure you come back tomorrow.”