CEO's Expectant Secretary (4 page)

She and her mother rode in a chauffeured car to the beach location for the wedding. The sun had burned off most of the morning fog, so at least there would be no rain. The car pulled to a stop in front of the private cottage where they would eat a meal afterward. Elle spotted Brock in the distance. Her heart stuttered at the sight of him. When she’d first met him, she’d never dared to dream they would be married. There were too many obstacles. She wondered again if this was a mistake.

“Elle,” her mother said, lifting her hand to smooth the crease between Elle’s brows. “Stop worrying. This is a happy day.”

“But—” Elle said, fear twisting her inside like a vise.

“No buts,” her mother said. “Remember. Never trouble trouble unless trouble troubles you.”

Elle smiled at the saying her mother had quoted to her so many times throughout the years. She took a deep breath. Just for today, she would try not to trouble trouble. She followed her mother from the car to the cottage where the hostess greeted them.

“Everyone is ready for you,” the woman said. “Especially the groom. The harpist is already playing.”

“Harpist?” Elle said in surprise, craning to look out the window.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the hostess said. “Perhaps that was supposed to be a surprise.”

Her mother’s eyes danced with excitement. “I’ll go first, like we planned,” she said, smoothing her blue dress then lifting her hand to Elle’s cheek. “I’m so happy for you, and for the baby.”

Elle’s stomach dipped. “I love you, Mom,” she said.

Elle watched her mother walk down the stone path, then down smooth wooden planks over the sandy beach. The blue-gray Pacific rippled with white crests. Gathering her courage, she walked toward the door. A bouquet was pushed into her hands.

Blinking, Elle glanced at the hostess again in surprise.

The hostess smiled. “Mr. Maddox insisted. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Elle looked down at the arrangement of white lilies and blood-red roses, and couldn’t help thinking of all the bad blood that had flowed between her family and Brock’s. Could their marriage sew together the jagged, bitter edges of competition?

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. One step at a time. The hostess opened the door and Elle stepped outside.

Brock watched as the door to the cottage opened and Elle appeared. The wind lifted tendrils of her hair and
the hem of her lacy dress fluttered against her shapely upper calves. She had an ethereal look to her, almost angelic, but he knew different in every way. She’d been a sensual goddess in his bed, fulfilling his every need. At work, she had seemed like the perfect assistant, but the truth was she’d been tricking him every day, deceiving him.

He felt a stab of bitterness in his throat and swallowed it. There were more important things, he reminded himself. The baby.
His
baby. If there was anything his father had taught him, it was duty to the company and duty to his family.

His mother had been a dutiful but passionless wife and mother. Brock knew Elle would be different. He’d already experienced her passion and he knew, deep down in his bones, that she would love their child. Their child wouldn’t be regarded as an obligation. Elle would receive their child as a precious gift and responsibility. As for their relationship, they would work that out along the way.

She met his gaze and though he couldn’t see her eyes from where he stood, he guessed they were probably turbulent with conflicting emotions. She looked like a prized princess, her head held high, walking tall, only the smallest bump showing when the wind flattened her dress against her abdomen.

Brock couldn’t tear his gaze from her. She’d been the lover who’d both comforted him and turned him upside down. And betrayed him.

Despite that last fact, he still craved her. He should have hated himself for it, but he knew that once she bore his name, he would be her first priority. There would
be no more division of loyalties. Her loyalty would be to him.

She took the last few steps and stood next to him, searching his gaze. Just as he’d anticipated, her eyes were full of emotion. He took her hand in his and watched her inhale quickly. It gave him pleasure to know that he still got past her reserve.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, all the while looking into her eyes. “We’re ready,” he said in a low voice to the officiant, and the ceremony began. He repeated the vows he’d never made before and watched as she did the same.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the minister said. “You may kiss the bride.”

The sun came out from behind a cloud and Brock pulled Elle into his arms. She felt both strong and delicate against him. He lowered his mouth to hers and gave her a kiss of promise. He felt her tremble. “It will be okay,” he whispered against her ear.

“It will,” she whispered, but didn’t look at all convinced.

Elle felt numb. The steak dinner arranged for her wedding celebration may as well have been sawdust in her mouth. Her hands were freezing, but she forced herself to nod and smile at Flynn and his wife, Renee.

“You look beautiful,” Renee said.

“Thank you,” Elle replied, feeling a stab of guilt for betraying the woman by using their friendship to get more secrets for her grandfather to use against Maddox. Renee had been a friend to her. She was surprised Renee
was willing to speak to her, let alone extend her good wishes.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to see my brother get married,” Flynn said. “He’s been married to the company for so long, I was starting to wonder…”

“No need to wonder anymore,” Brock said, lifting his glass of wine. “Thanks for being here,” he said to Flynn. Then he turned to Elle. “To my wife—may our love grow, our commitment deepen and our joy overflow.”

“I can only hope,” Elle whispered under her breath, lifting her glass of sparkling water. The passion she glimpsed in his laser-blue eyes reminded her why she’d fallen for Brock. His passion for work, for life and, in the dark of night in his office apartment, for her.

Her mother and Brock’s brother and sister-in-law clapped in approval.

“Honeymoon plans?” Flynn asked.

In one heartbeat, Brock’s eyes turned to ice. He looked away. “Later,” he said. “I have to dig the company out of its current crisis.”

Elle felt her stomach sink to her knees and was glad she was sitting down. She knew she was the reason for the “current crisis.”

An hour later, after their guests had departed, Elle left the cottage in Brock’s limo. It was so silent she could barely breathe.

“You look beautiful,” Brock said, but didn’t meet her gaze.

She tried without success to take a deep breath. This was a huge mistake, she thought. Was there any way she could go back? Was an annulment possible? “Thank
you,” she said in a quiet voice. “The flowers and harp were very nice.”

He nodded. “Every woman deserves something special at her wedding.”

“Who told you that?”

He paused. “Renee.”

“That was generous of her.”

“I thought so,” he said.

She bit her lip. “I don’t blame everyone for being angry with me, and I don’t blame you for resenting me—”

“I don’t,” he cut in. “Your loyalty was with your grand father. Now it’s with me.”

It was so much more complicated than that, she thought. As the limo pulled up in front of Brock’s grand home, he got out of the car and escorted Elle through the front door. His combination of good manners and primal strength had captivated her from the beginning. He could appear so smooth and civilized, but if necessary, he had the instincts of a street fighter and would go for the jugular to protect what was his.

She wondered how far his possessiveness toward her extended. Was it just for the baby?

The housekeeper approached them with a beaming smile. “Congratulations, both of you. I’m so happy for you. And you just look lovely, Miss Linton.” She covered her mouth. “Oh, I should have said Mrs. Maddox.”

Elle’s heart skipped at the sound of her new name. Pushing aside her conflicting feelings, she took the woman’s hands in hers. “Thank you, Anna. You’re very kind.”

“Please have Roger move Elle’s things into my suite,” Brock said.

“Right away. We’ll have it done in no time,” the housekeeper said and walked down the hallway.

Elle struggled with a surge of panic. “Your suite,” she echoed, meeting his gaze.

“My suite has two bedrooms, two baths, a study, den and small exercise room. At some point my mother will return here, hopefully for a brief period,” he said in a dry voice. “The less she knows about my private life, the better—she’s been known to cause trouble. There won’t be as many questions if you’re living in my suite. Now, I need to go back to the office, but I’ll be home later tonight. Roger will be on hand for you to move the rest of your things here during the next few days, but I don’t want you to overdo it. You’ve had a busy day.”

He looked deep into her eyes and she saw a glimpse of the passion they’d shared. But just as quickly, the fire was gone. “I’ll see you later,” he said, leaving her alone on their wedding night.

Most of Maddox’s employees had left by the time Brock invited Logan Emerson into his office after hours. He’d hired the private investigator a short while back when it had become clear that someone was leaking company secrets. Brock’s gut sank again as he remembered the exact moment he’d learned Elle had been the one. Elle, his uncorrupted island, had been twisting the knife at the same time she’d made love to him.

Logan sat across from Brock. “I just heard about your marriage. I was surprised.”

“She’s pregnant with my child,” Brock said.

Logan, usually reserved, gave a low whistle of surprise. “I’m assuming that means you won’t be prosecuting her.”

“You assume correctly,” Brock said.

“I understand. Well, it appears as if my job here is done,” Logan said.

Brock frowned. “Perhaps not. Maddox is still at a critical point. There are several possibilities I want to explore. Quickly, of course. I’d like to keep you on longer until we see how things shake out.”

“No problem,” he said. “Just let me know what you need.”

“Good,” Brock said and stood. “That’s all for now.”

Logan extended his hand. “Best wishes on your marriage. It’s not my place to say, really, but I don’t believe Elle enjoyed the deception.”

Brock just nodded. He was still coming to grips with how his life had been turned upside down in such a short time. “Thank you.”

Brock reviewed his plans for the rest of the week, but it took longer than usual because he kept thinking about Elle’s deception. He clenched his hands, then released them. The only thing that helped him was the fact that he would have done the same for his father. And he’d do anything for the sake of the company. It was his duty, his destiny, his heritage.

Hours later, after he left work, he climbed the stairs to his suite. He noticed one of the bedroom doors was closed but the one to the master bedroom was left open. The lamp on his bedside table was on, and the covers on his king-size bed were turned back. Walking through
the doorway, he studied the room, catching the whiff of a sweet scent. His gaze caught on a small, clear vase on the bedside table. Inside stood one ruby-red rose. From Elle’s bouquet. He saw a piece of paper sitting next to the vase.

Thank you. Elle.

It wasn’t the first time she’d thanked him for giving her flowers, but still, he was touched. The rose reminded him of the passion they’d shared before everything had come to light. He lifted it and inhaled the fragrance, wondering if they would ever feel that sweetness they’d shared again.

E
lle set her alarm so she could join Brock for breakfast. She wasn’t at all sure how to make their marriage work, but she knew that avoiding him wouldn’t help. Shaking off her sleepiness, she beat him to the sunroom by a minute and a half.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise as he entered the room.

She felt a tiny surge of gratification and smiled. “Good morning.” She lifted the hot pot of coffee. “Ready for your first cup?”

“Yes, thank you,” he said, and she poured for him.

She felt his gaze skim over her as he took a sip. “Where’s yours?”

She shook her head. “Coffee’s not on my list these days.”

“Why not?”

“Caffeine’s a no-no during pregnancy,” she said. “It helps that I’ve temporarily lost my taste for it.”

Brock’s eyebrows furrowed. “Ooh. That’s tough. How does that affect your sleepiness?”

She laughed. “I’m still in the sleepy stage.”

“Sleepy stage?”

“I want to take naps constantly. I’ve actually felt like this for several weeks and was hoping I wasn’t coming down with something. But I guess in a way, I did. The nine-month flu,” she said, chuckling to herself.

Brock smiled as he lifted his cup for another sip.

“The good news is any day now I’m supposed to start feeling a burst of energy and I’ll be incredibly productive.”

“As long as you don’t plan on running a marathon,” he said. “Your main job is to take care of yourself and the baby.”

“At some point, I’ll need to make some plans for a nursery,” she ventured, watching his expression carefully.

He nodded and met her gaze. “Eventually, the child can be moved into his or her own room. My suite was originally designed for my wife and me to share the master bedroom, and the infant to sleep where you are currently.”

Elle felt a jolt of heat as sensual memories flooded her mind. Did Brock want her in his bed again? What would be different between them? “Is that what you want?”

“We don’t need to make that decision right now. You’ve been through a lot during the last couple of weeks. Make sure you don’t do too much today when
you’re packing and unpacking your belongings. That’s what Roger is for.”

She nodded and a silence fell between them. How she longed for the easy conversation they’d once shared.

He glanced at his watch. “Time for me to go.”

“So early?” The words popped out before she knew it.

“Breakfast meeting with—” He stopped as if he remembered he couldn’t share that information with her. She’d shown him she couldn’t be trusted. Elle hated that. She wondered if it would always be this way between them—oh-so-careful with edited information.

“Have a good day,” she managed.

“You, too,” he said and walked away.

Her stomach twisted and she forced herself to take a quick breath.
Give it time,
she told herself.
You haven’t even been married twenty-four hours.

Later that day, Elle’s mother helped her pack. “This is the sad part,” her mother said. “As happy as I am for you that you’re married and moving to live with your husband, I’ll miss you terribly.”

Her mother’s tone tugged at her heart and Elle gave her a hug. “It’s not like I’m moving very far. We can see each other as often as we like. And you know you can call me for anything,” Elle said firmly.

“I’m glad I finally joined that support group last year,” Suzanne said. “We really do help take care of each other, and heaven knows I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

Elle held up her hand. “Stop that craziness. You know you’re no burden. I just don’t want you to push yourself
too much, especially now that you’ve gone back to work part-time.”

“Look who’s talking,” her mother said. “You’re the one who’s been working double time lately, preparing for the wedding and moving. Thank goodness Brock won’t let you overdo any longer. I can tell he’s a strong man.”

“Yes, he is,” Elle murmured, thinking Brock wouldn’t let her within a mile of the office at this point.

“What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell him about the baby as soon as you knew,” her mother said, her brows knitting in a furrow.

“Aside from the fact that it was an office affair?” Elle said, even though it had been far more than that to her. She smiled and gave her mother another squeeze. “You know, things just get complicated sometimes.”

Later that evening, Elle tried to help Roger carry a box upstairs but was brushed aside. He shot her an appalled glance. “Absolutely not, Mrs. Maddox. Mr. Maddox would have my head. I would have my head,” the older man said.

“Okay, okay,” Elle said, stepping aside. “At least let me get you something to drink.”

Roger gave a heavy sigh. “Thank you.”

Elle checked out the small refrigerator in the mini-kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water. She walked back to the smaller bedroom where Roger was stacking the last of the boxes.

“Now, you know not to lift these,” he said, shooting her a warning gaze with iron-gray eyebrows over dark gray eyes.

“Maybe we should spread them out a little,” she suggested.

He lifted his hand as she approached to help. “I’ll do it, but only with the agreement that you leave a light on at night so you won’t trip on your way to the bathroom.”

“Excellent idea,” she said, clapping her hands. “I see why Brock relies on you.”

Roger’s lips lifted in a half grin. “Thank you. I’m honored by the compliment.”

A few moments later, she thrust the bottle of water into his hands and impulsively hugged the cranky man.

He gave a low chuckle of surprise. “Now, promise you won’t try to do too much this evening. Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know?”

During the next hour, Elle emptied four boxes into drawers and the generous walk-in closet. Glancing up, she noticed the late hour and decided to take a break with a hot shower. She wondered where Brock was. Was he staying at his office apartment tonight? In the bed they had shared so many times after work?

The notion twisted something inside her and she tried not to think about it as the water spilled over her. She tried to visualize the warmth washing away all her worries as she rubbed her belly. Elle couldn’t overthink the future right now. Dealing with today was enough.

She dried off and pulled a comfy cotton nightshirt over her head. She combed through her wet hair and slid her arms into a long terry-cloth robe that tied at her waist. Her stomach growled, surprising her. It was late and she needed to sleep. What had she read recently about foods one should eat at bedtime? A banana. She’d
seen a bunch downstairs. She would eat half of one, she decided, and headed for the stairs.

She took the first step, then the next. Her foot caught in the hem of her robe and she grabbed at the banister but she was too late. She fell headfirst down the stairs and felt the impact of the wooden steps against her chest and belly. A scream escaped her. She grabbed and clutched for anything to stop her. She screamed again.

Anna and Roger appeared at the bottom of the steps, their faces filled with horror.

Elle closed her eyes at their expressions. Oh, god, help her. The baby. The baby.

Roger rushed to her side. “Miss, are you okay? Are you awake?”

Elle took a deep breath, trying to take stock of her body. She felt sore in places she couldn’t identify. “I’m conscious,” she said, opening her eyes again. “But I’m afraid,” she whispered. “I want to make sure the baby is okay.”

Roger’s eyebrows drew together. “We’ll take you to the hospital immediately,” he said.

Brock marched into the emergency room, his heart pounding against his chest. He stopped at the desk. “Brock Maddox. My wife is here,” he said in a curt voice.

The receptionist nodded. “Please come this way,” she said and led him down a hallway to a room. She opened the door and he spotted Elle reclining on a table with Anna and Roger by her side. The atmosphere in the room was grim.

All three of them looked at him.

“Mr. Maddox—” Roger and Anna said in unison.

Brock felt the twist in his gut tighten further. “Thank you for getting her here,” he said, then turned his attention to Elle. “How are you?”

She bit her lip. “Waiting on the ultrasound,” she said, her expression full of fear. “I wish I weren’t so clumsy,” she whispered, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.

Brock rushed to her side and took her hand in his. “I’ll make sure you’re okay,” he said.

“But what about the baby?” she asked, her voice breaking.

Roger cleared his throat. “We’ll be in the waiting room.”

“I feel so horrible,” Elle said. “What if my carelessness—”

He pressed his fingers over her lips. “You can’t think that,” he said.

A young woman dressed in white walked through the doorway. “Hello, I’m Dr. Shen.” She extended her hand to Elle and then to Brock. “I understand Mom took a tumble. Babies are amazingly resilient, so your little one is likely okay. Let’s check it out.”

The doctor squirted some gel on Elle’s belly and rubbed a device over her.

Brock watched as a jumble of a being appeared on the screen before them.

“Good, strong heartbeat right there,” Dr. Shen said, pointing to the flicker on the screen. She moved the device. “Everything looks good so far. Placenta’s intact.”

She removed the device and handed it to the nurse,
then turned to Brock and Elle. “You might have some bruises tomorrow, but your baby is fine. Just be careful around stairs, okay?”

Elle gave a big nod of relief. “Very careful.”

The doctor scrawled her signature on the notebook screen. “You’re released. And we can give you a copy of the ultrasound video, if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” Elle said.

“Thanks,” Brock echoed. Elle looked at his face, which was full of wonder and awe. She understood. The heartbeat, the movement of the tiny legs and arms—it was overwhelming. And amazing.

The nurse wiped the gel off of Elle’s abdomen. “You can get dressed now,” she said.

Elle took an audible breath. “Sorry to bother you with this,” she murmured and moved to slide from the table.

Brock wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “You can’t be serious.”

Elle bit her lip. “I know you have other things to do.”

“There’s nothing more important,” he said. “Nothing.”

“It almost didn’t seem real before,” she said. “But it does now. We’re going to have a baby.”

He nodded and smiled. “Yes, we are.”

Two days later, Elle couldn’t stand her Brock-imposed exile from the outside world any longer. Now, she desperately needed to get out.

The housekeeper frowned as Elle put her hand on
the doorknob of the front door. “You’re not going out, are you?” Anna said.

Elle turned to look at the caring woman. “Yes, I am. The doctor says it’s fine. I haven’t had any spotting. The ultrasound looked good. Some physical activity will be good for me.”

“Mr. Maddox won’t like it,” she said.

“Yes, well, he would just as soon see me wrapped in a cocoon until my due date. That’s not going to happen,” Elle said firmly.

“I can’t say I blame you, but you really did give us a scare. If Mr. Maddox should ask where you are, what should I tell him?”

Elle smiled. “Tell him I’m shopping for a shorter robe.”

The housekeeper chuckled. “Good for you. Let me call Roger. He can drive you.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary at all,” Elle protested.

The housekeeper shook her head. “Mr. Maddox would want you to go with a driver. It won’t take but a moment.”

Elle cooled her heels, then stepped into the town car and directed Roger to take her to an outlet.

“Outlet?” Roger echoed as if it were a foreign word. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go downtown? That’s where the senior Mrs. Maddox always goes.”

“No, I love Nordstrom’s Rack,” she said, settling back in her seat.

Roger let her out at the front door and Elle walked into the busy store. She wandered through the lingerie section, admiring the silk gowns. She would be too large for them soon enough, she thought, sliding her hand over
her belly. Finding a rack of robes, she flipped through the selection and pulled out a red one. “You’ll look like a giant, mutant cherry,” she muttered to herself.

Her cell phone rang and she saw Brock’s number on her caller ID. Wincing, she answered. “Hello?”

“What are you doing at Nordstrom’s Rack?”

“Buying a short robe,” she said. “I assume your spies informed you?”

“Roger told me you insisted on going to an outlet,” Brock said. “I can afford to get you a robe and anything else you need, for God’s sake. You don’t have to watch your pennies. And you sure as hell don’t need to be shopping at outlets.”

“But I like shopping in outlets. It’s like hunting is for men. Bagging the one with the biggest rack in one shot.”

Silence followed. “I’ve never heard it described that way.”

“Well, I’m glad to know I’ve provided you with a new analogy,” she said. “Maybe you can use it for a campaign.”

“Hmm. That’s not a bad idea.”

“Shh. Better not tell me. I’m the enemy,” she couldn’t help saying.

Brock gave a heavy sigh. “You’re not the enemy.”

“Bet you’d never let me in the office again,” she said.

“Sure I would,” he said. “Just not right away. Dinner at home?” he asked, clearly changing the subject.

“If we must,” she said.

“You hate it there,” he concluded.

“It’s so—” she searched for the right word “—full.”

“I know,” he said. “Maybe we could get rid of some of the clutter.”

“How do you think your mother would feel about that?”

“It’s possible she wouldn’t even notice.”

Elle snorted, then tried to cough to cover it. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, start with one room downstairs. Take it over and redo it the way you want. Put the old stuff in storage.”

Elle felt a trickle of excitement. “This might work.”

“Of course it will work,” he said. “It was my suggestion.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re so arrogant.”

“That never stopped you before,” he said.

She sucked in a quick breath. “No,” she whispered. “It didn’t.”