A Little Bit Pregnant

She shook her head. While she understood the need to keep kids’ lives as normal as possible, the knowledge that they were out in the open, exposed put a knot in her stomach.

Zane didn’t look any happier than she felt. He shrugged. “I sent in Mathews and Gorson.”

Some of her tension eased. Those two were great with kids and seemed to have a sixth sense about danger. Zane would have chosen them for that reason. He sweated when kids were in danger, too. Jeff worried, but he had kids of his own so she expected it. The same level of concern from Zane always left her weak in the knees…figuratively and literally.

She reminded herself she should be looking for reasons not to like Zane, not more excuses to fall harder for the guy. But it was difficult to dislike him. He was too close to perfect for her comfort.

Jeff finished up his report and asked for questions. When there weren’t any, he reminded them that there was a new batch of bodyguards starting training on Monday, so they needed to stay sharp.

Nicki knew that new recruits were often ambushed while walking through the halls of the company. Once a fake terrorism team had invaded and taken hostages. She’d been caught in a standoff for nearly a half hour, which wouldn’t have been a problem if she hadn’t been on her way to the bathroom in the first place. She made a mental note to be more careful about her water consumption during the next few weeks.

Brenda, Jeff’s fifty-something assistant, rose and glared at her boss. “I can’t believe you didn’t consider my application. Again.”

Zane glanced at Nicki and grinned. “Here we go,” he murmured.

Brenda’s desire to be a real live spy was an ongoing source of humor in the office.

Jeff rose and patted her on the arm. “Brenda, I can’t risk losing you. Not only would your husband kill me, but the office would fall apart. You’re too valuable for field work.”

“That’s a crock and you know it,” she said, following him from the room. “Come on, Jeff. Just give me a chance.”

Nicki watched her go. “I’m always torn,” she admitted to Zane as the rest of the staff filed out of the conference room. “On the one hand I know Jeff is right—Brenda does keep things running smoothly. But on the other hand, she should be allowed to live up to her potential.”

“She would never pass the physical.”

“Fine. Then let her take it and fail. At least she would have had the chance.”

Zane didn’t look convinced, which made Nicki suspicious. “You and Jeff are afraid she will pass and then you’d have to let her into the program. You know she’d kick butt once she was accepted.”

“You’re a troublemaker.”

“I prefer to think of myself as a rebel. Sort of like a freedom fighter for people who are being oppressed by those in power. Those who have never—”

The phone on the table buzzed. “Nicki, you have a call on line three.”

“Thank God,” Zane muttered. “I couldn’t stand another one of those speeches on the oppressed.”

“I’m not finished with you,” she said as she picked up the receiver.”

“This is Nicki,” she said, then felt her mood deflate when she heard Boyd’s voice. He wasn’t the kind of guy who checked in during the day “just because.” Which meant there was only one reason he was calling.

“I’m really sorry I can’t make it tonight,” he told her. “But with Stan quitting, the project is at risk. I don’t want it to fall behind.”

He went on about some particularly complex problem that made no sense to her after the first three words. When he paused for breath, she spoke up.

“It’s okay, Boyd. Tonight is just a party. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll call you in a few days,” he said. “After the weekend.” He seemed to realize that most couples who were dating actually spent time together on weekends and quickly added, “I have to work.”

“I guessed that. It’s fine.”

More than fine, she thought sadly as she hung up. She didn’t feel regret or sadness or anything. For the past couple of weeks she’d been telling herself it was time to end things with Boyd. Whatever potential had been there had obviously been lost. This conversation told her it was past time to make a clean break.

“That’s the thing,” Zane said as he leaned toward her. “Guys like Brad just don’t appreciate women. Computer chips and binary code are more interesting. Crazy, but true.”

She closed her eyes and counted to ten. When that didn’t help, she opened her eyes and glared at him. “Boyd isn’t a programmer and he’s plenty interested in woman and—” She laughed. “Why on earth am I trying to convince you?”

“I have no idea. I don’t have a date, either. We can go together.”

Nicki told herself that the sudden flash of heat that zinged up her thighs was little more than the beginnings of some kind of rash. Or a food allergy. It wasn’t excitement about Zane’s offhand invitation. So he was between women. That happened all the time. Just as quickly, he would be involved again with a large-breasted, slow-witted beauty whose most challenging conversational gambit would be to discuss the various shades of teal that went with her eyes.

“I suppose I could hang out with you at the party,” she said with a casual deliberateness she didn’t come close to feeling. At this moment in time, her insides were practicing clog dancing.

“Hey, I’ll even pick you up,” he said.

She thought about his flashy two-seater sports car and grinned. “I think tying my wheelchair to your bumper and dragging it behind would be a really bad idea.”

“Don’t sweat the details, Nicki. I’ll take care of everything.” He rose and headed for the door. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something sexy.”

“You’re not picking me up,” she called after him. “Don’t be silly. I’ll drive myself.”

He paused in the doorway and stared at her. “I never let my date drive herself.”

Her throat didn’t just get tight. No, first it twisted up like a spring. “D-date?”

“Uh-huh.”

He flashed her the kind of smile deigned to reduce her to a quivering mass. Damn the man—it worked.

“I’m going to show you all my best moves,” he said. “You’ll be impressed.”

Nicki watched him walk out of the room and had a really bad feeling that Zane was right. She was going to be impressed and where exactly would that leave her? The last thing she needed was to be more attracted to him.

Then she reminded herself she’d never been the sort of person to walk away from a challenge. Zane thought he could knock her socks off. Well, two could play at that game. He’d told her to wear something sexy. She could do that and then some. Maybe if she surprised him, she could get the upper hand for once. Of course what she would do with it once she had it was another question entirely.

Chapter Three

Nicki stared into the full-length mirror and wondered if she was making a mistake. Yes, she wanted to impress Zane, but maybe she was going about it all wrong. She might be attractive and all that, but there was no way on earth her size-B breasts could compete in the major leagues. Zane dated women who were so top heavy they couldn’t walk straight.

She glanced from her reflection to her chest and back. In her closet was a black dress with a neckline that sank nearly to her navel. With some double stick tape and a very straight back, she could dazzle. But in a world of watermelons, who bothered with peaches? Maybe this choice was better. Simple, elegant and classy. Wasn’t that better than trying too hard?

Nicki wished desperately for a second opinion, but her mom was in another state and Ashley, Jeff’s wife, was busy getting herself ready. Besides, there wasn’t much her friend could tell her over the phone.

“You look great,” Nicki said in an effort to make herself feel better.

She knew she didn’t look bad at all. The shimmering bronze fabric of her dress draped beautifully. The loose boat-style neckline left her arms bare—arms that were toned. Folds of fabric hinted at the curves of her breasts without actually exposing them. Her skin was pale and she’d chosen to leave it bare, even her legs. Instead of panty hose, she’d smoothed on a lotion with a hint of glimmer.

One advantage of her wheelchair was she never had to worry about sore feet so she wore strappy impractical shoes that would have crippled anyone trying to walk. A cascade of curls that had taken nearly twenty minutes to arrange and spray into place tumbled down her back.