Pregnant by the Texan

She looked at her hair and thought about what he had said. She would keep it up in a bun as a reminder to stop herself from another night of making love with him. In the meantime, she was going to have dinner with him, work with him and even have fun with him. Harmless fun that would allow them each to say goodbye without emotional ties—just two people who had a good time working together. What harm could there be in that?

Unless it turned out that she was pregnant. Then she couldn’t say goodbye.

She showered, took down her hair to redo it and selected a plain pale beige long-sleeved cotton blouse and a dark brown straight wool skirt with practical low-heeled shoes. She brushed, twisted and secured her hair into a bun at the back of her head. She didn’t wear makeup. Men usually didn’t notice her and she didn’t think makeup would make much difference. The times she had worn makeup in high school, boys still hadn’t noticed her or wanted to ask her out except when they were looking for help in some course they were taking.

An evening with Aaron. In spite of her promises to herself and her good intentions, the excitement tingled and added to her eagerness.

When it was time to go meet Aaron, she picked up a small purse that only held necessities, including her card key, wallet and a list of temporary numbers that people were using because of the storm. She wouldn’t need a coat because they wouldn’t be leaving the Cozy Inn.

When she stepped off the elevator, she saw him. She tried to ignore the faster thump of her heart. In an open-neck pale blue shirt and navy slacks, he looked handsome, neat and important. She thought he stood out in the crowd in the lobby with his dark blond hair, his broad shoulders and his air of authority.

Why did she have such an intense response to him? She had from the first moment she met him. He took her breath away and dazzled her without really doing anything except being himself.

He spotted her and her excitement jumped a notch. She felt locked into gazing into his eyes, eyes the color of caramel. She could barely get her breath; realizing how intensely she reacted to him, she made an effort to break the eye contact.

When she looked again, he was still watching her as he approached.

“You look great. No one would ever guess you’ve been working since before dawn this morning.”

“Thank you,” she answered, thinking he was just being polite. Nobody ever told her she looked great or gorgeous, or said things she heard guys say to women. She was accustomed to not catching men’s attention so she didn’t give it much thought.

“I have a table in the dining room,” he said, taking her arm. The room had been transformed since they’d left it. Lights had been turned low, the tables covered in white linen tablecloths. Tiny pots wrapped in red foil and tied with bright green satin bows held dwarf red poinsettias sprinkled with glitter, adding to the festive Christmas atmosphere.

A piano player played softly at one end of the room in front of a tiny dance floor where three couples danced to a familiar Christmas song. Near the piano was a fully decorated Christmas tree with twinkling lights.

Aaron held her chair and then sat across from her, moving the poinsettia to one side even though they could both see over it.

“I haven’t seen many Christmas trees this season,” she said. “It’s easy to even forget the holiday season is here when so many are hurting and so much is damaged.”

“Will you be with your family for Christmas?”

“No. My parents don’t pay any attention to Christmas. They’re divorced and Christmas was never a fun time at our house because of the anger between them. It was a relief when they finally ended their marriage.”

“Sorry. I know we talked about families before. Earlier today you said you are going to see your sister in Austin tomorrow. Do you see her at Christmas?”

“Some years I spend Christmas at her house. Some years I go back and forth between my parents and my sister. Mom has moved to Fort Worth. She’s a high school principal there. After the divorce my dad moved his insurance business to Dallas because he had so many customers in the area. I see him some, but not as much as my mom. My grandmother lives with her and my grandfather is deceased.”

“So this year what will you do at Christmastime?”

“I plan to stay here and keep trying to help where I can until the afternoon of Christmas Eve. Then I’ll fly to Austin to be at my sister’s. I have a feeling the holidays will be extremely difficult here for some people. I’m coming back Christmas afternoon and I’ve asked people here who are alone to come over that evening—just a casual dinner. So far there are about five people coming.”

“That’s nice, Stella,” Aaron said, sounding sincere with a warmth in his gaze that wrapped her in its glow.

“What about you, Aaron? Where will you spend Christmas? You know more about my family than I do about yours.”

For an instant he had a shuttered look that made her feel as if she had intruded with her question. Then he shrugged and looked at her. “My parents moved to Paris and I usually go see them during the holidays. My brother is in Dallas and I’ll be with him part of the time, although he’s going to Paris this year. I like to ski, and some years I ski. This year I’ll see if I can help out around here. You’re right. A holiday can hurt badly if someone has lost his home or a loved one. After losing his brother, Cole will need my support. So I’m going to spend the holidays in Royal.”

As he spoke quietly, there was a glacial look in his eyes that made her feel shut out. She wondered about his past. More and more she realized how little she knew about him.

Their waiter appeared to take their drink order, and Aaron looked at her, his brown eyes warm and friendly again. “The last time we were together you preferred a glass of red wine. Is that what you’d like now?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you. I would prefer a glass of ice water. Maybe later I’ll have something else,” she said, surprised that he remembered what she had ordered before. She didn’t want to drink anything alcoholic and she also didn’t care to do anything to cause him to talk about the last time they were together.

“Very well. Water for the lady, please, and I’ll have a beer,” he said to the waiter.

As soon as they were alone, Aaron turned to her. “Let’s dance at least one time and then we’ll come back to place our order. Do you already know what you want? I remember last time it was grilled trout, which is also on this menu here.”

“I don’t know what I want and I need to read the menu. I’ll select something and then we’ll dance,” she said, trying to postpone being in his arms. If she could gracefully skip dancing, she would, but he knew from the last time that she loved to dance. He was remembering that last time together with surprising clarity. She figured he had other women in his life and had forgotten all about her.

“Let’s see what we want. When he brings drinks, we can order dinner. I remember how much you like to dance.”

“You have a good memory.”

“For what interests me,” he said, studying her.

“What?” she asked, curious about the intent way he looked at her.

“You’re different from last time. Far more serious.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “You notice too much, Aaron. It’s the storm and all the problems. There are so many things to do. How can I look or feel or even be the same person after the event that has touched each person who lives here,” she said, realizing she needed to lighten the situation a bit so he would stop studying her and trying to guess what had changed and what was wrong.

“C’mon. One dance. You need to get your mind off Royal for just a few minutes at least. We can order dinner after a dance. You’re not going to faint on the dance floor from hunger. Let it go for a minute, Stella. You’ve got the burden of the world on your shoulders.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I don’t think it’s that bad. Very well, you win,” she said. By trying to stay remote and all-business, she was drawing more attention instead of less, which wasn’t what she wanted.

“That’s more like it,” he said, smiling. “What time do you leave in the morning?” he asked.

“I’ll fly the eight-o’clock commuter plane from here to Dallas and change planes for Austin.”

They reached the dance floor as the music changed to an old-time fast beat. She was caught in Aaron’s direct look as they danced, and his brown eyes had darkened slightly. Desire was evident in his expression. Her insides clenched while memories of making love with him bombarded her.

His hot gaze raked over her and she could barely get her breath. How could she resist him? He was going to interfere in her work in Royal, interfere in her life, stir up trouble and make her want him. The last part scared her. She didn’t want Aaron involved too soon because he was a man who was accustomed to taking charge and to having things his way.

Watching him, she gave herself to dancing around the floor with him, to looking into brown eyes that held desire and a promise of kisses, to doing what he said—having fun and forgetting the problems for just a few minutes. The problems wouldn’t go away, but she could close her mind to them long enough to dance with Aaron and have a relaxing evening.

As they danced the beat quickened. Smiling, she shut her mind to everything except dancing and music and a drumming beat that seemed to match her heartbeat. The problems would be waiting, but for a few minutes, she pushed them aside.

Her gaze lowered to Aaron’s mouth and her own lips parted. Having him close at hand stirred up memories she had been trying to forget. If only she could go back and undo that night with him, to stop short at kissing him.

The dance ended and when a ballad began he held her hand to draw her closer.

“Aaron, I thought we were going to have one dance and then go order dinner,” she said, catching her breath.

“I can’t resist this. I’ve been wanting to dance with you and hold you close.”

The words thrilled her, scared her and tormented her. They danced together and she was aware of pressing lightly against him and moving in step with him. Memories of being in his arms became more vivid. His aftershave was faint but she recalled it from before. Too many things about him were etched clearly in her memory, which hadn’t faded any in spite of her efforts to try to avoid thinking about him.

The minute the song ended, she stepped away and smiled. “Now, we’ve danced. Let’s go order so we get dinner tonight.”