The Expectant Secretary (11 page)

“You were right,” she said, breathless. “They needed lots of extra help what with that wedding coming up.”

With a kiss square on her smiling mouth, he felt her melt against him like sugar in the rain. “Come on,” he said, feeling as if the dark clouds over his head were suddenly breaking apart, “Let's go celebrate.”

He could almost taste his sweet revenge on the Fortunes.

 

“Have a seat,” Brody instructed as Jillian brought him the files he needed. They'd been back at the office for a week now, but their routine seemed less and less predictable. The merger was coming together. It was his emotions that were falling apart. “Let's go over these figures.”

But his mind wasn't on the merger. It was on Jillian. Only because he worried about her condition, he assured himself.

Over the past week he'd started to notice pale blue circles under her eyes. She'd begun wearing either full skirts or loose tops that hid the tiny bulge in her abdomen. Often he found himself staring at her figure, wondering about the changes, wishing he could put his hand on her stomach and feel the tiny life beginning inside her.

Mostly, he wondered and worried about whether she ate enough, slept enough. Who would take care of her? Was he working her too much? He knew if he suggested she take a little time off, she'd accuse him of coddling her. And she wouldn't accept it.

Convincing himself he was only worried about her welfare, he said, “Jillie, have dinner with me tonight.”

Her startled gaze met his across the top of his desk. The blue in her eyes softened then sparked with indignation. “I thought we were going to go over these numbers.”

“We are. We could finish over dinner.”

“I don't think so.” She dragged her gaze back to the papers in her lap.

“To which question? Going over the numbers, or dinner?”

Annoyance made her chin jut out. “It wasn't a question. It was a command.”

“It's
your
decision.”

“Good. Then, no. Thank you, though.”

He frowned. “That's not the answer I wanted.”

“I know.” She opened the folder on her lap and studied the printout of the Australian holdings.

Her softening shape, the determination in the angle of her chin, the way her soft, blond hair cupped the edge of her jaw made him want to wrap her in his arms and kiss her until they were both senseless. Trying to ignore her and the need inside him, he shuffled the papers on his desk. “It's not what you think.”

“What?” Her brow creased.

“My asking you to dinner.”

“And what am I thinking?” she challenged.

“It's not a date.”

Relief—or maybe disappointment—flickered in the depths of her eyes. She waited for him to finish.

“Uh, not at all.” His mind raced. What the hell was it, then? “I need your help.”

“To cut your steak?” Humor laced her words.

He grinned at her, liking her tart sense of humor. “It's Matilda.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Your sister?”

“I don't know what to do with her.” The real worries about his sister intruded momentarily on his concerns—and desires—for Jillian. He raked his fingers through his hair and leaned back in his leather chair.
“I invited her to stay the weekend with me here in San Antonio. I feel like I'm trying to baby-sit a twenty-one-year-old.”

“You are.”

“I know. I know. But it's for her own good.” He felt a weight descend on his shoulders. “I'm worried about her. She's a little dynamo. Wouldn't surprise me if she got tangled up with the first American who came along. Probably some cowboy.”

“And that would be bad?”

“At her age, she shouldn't be making that kind of decision.”

“At your age,” she countered, “you should know you can't do anything to stop her. It's not your decision, Brody. It's hers.”

His eyebrows compressed into a frown. Just as marrying James had been Jillian's decision. Irritation snapped his jaw shut. This conversation was not going the way he wanted. Jillian was not cooperating. Not that she ever had. She'd always been a challenge. Maybe that's one reason he'd always been intrigued by her.

“Are we going to go over these figures?” she asked, impatience entering her voice.

“Sure.” He stood and came around his desk, hiking his hip onto the edge of the solid wood. He inhaled the scent of her light, breezy fragrance and felt a pulsing need deep inside him. “Maybe you could help me. With her…Matilda.”

Jillian stared up at him, her lips parted, making him remember his mouth slanted against hers. “How do you mean?”

He cleared his throat, tried to erase the image from
his mind. “Well, you seem to understand the situation.”

“Brody—”

“You could be an intermediary. A friend to her. A voice of reason for me. She's all alone in town.”

“I thought she was staying at the ranch.”

“She was. But after many phone calls last week, I convinced her to come visit. I wanted to give Griff a break.”

“You've been talking to her on the phone?” Her question was almost as ludicrous as the tremor in her voice.

“Yeah.”

“Is she the woman who's been calling you?”

He gave her a questioning look. “What woman?”

“The one with an Aussie accent.”

He thought for a moment then grinned. “Yeah.”

Jillie gave an awkward laugh. “Oh, well, I wish she had said hello.”

Confused by her questions but also cheered by them, he asked, “Does that mean you'll help me?”

“You're just giving Griff a break from spying on her.”

“We're not spying.”

“Guarding, then,” she said in a disbelieving tone. “What do you need me for? She has you to act as a watchdog.”

He shrugged off her comment. “Right. She'd like to ditch her big brother. She doesn't have any girlfriends here in the States. There's no one at the ranch even close to her age. Except cowboys. You could be like a big sister to her. I bet she'd enjoy talking to you, seeing you again.”

“No pressure, right?” Her mouth quirked in the semblance of a smile.

“You said yourself you hadn't been out much. You're new in town, too. You know how lonely that can be.” He played his last trump card, hoping more than anything that she would finally agree to help him, knowing it really had nothing to do with his little sister. “You'd be a big help.”

She tapped her pen against the folder, irritation making the cadence brisk. “Is this a job requirement?”

“No. It's strictly your decision.”

She sighed heavily. “What would I have to do?”

“Have dinner with us tomorrow night. Nothing fancy. No strings attached.”

A long silence stretched between them, unraveling his nerves. If she declined, he didn't know what he'd do. He had to see her outside of work. He had to know more about her, how she was coping. He had to make sure she was okay.

He needed to be with her. Not as boss and employee. Not as friends. And it scared the hell out of him.

“Okay,” she said with resignation. “I guess it couldn't hurt anything. But only this once.”

“I
'm definitely man crazy!”

Brody glared at Matilda and gritted his teeth.

Men! Couldn't his sister think of anything else?

Holding a tray of two-inch-thick Porterhouse steaks, he backed through the opening onto the patio of his high-rise apartment. The view of San Antonio with the amber reflection of the setting sun blazing off the surrounding buildings was romantic, making him wish he and Jillie were alone.

But would that be right? How could he pursue anything with the baby on the way? Did he even want to?

Suddenly angry—with himself, with fate—he slammed the screen door closed but kept his hearing pinned to the women's conversation. They sat around the wrought-iron patio table beneath a spinning ceiling fan. Sweat beaded along his spine as the heat pressed in on him. Needing a drink, he set down the tray, grabbed up his beer, tipped back his head and took a deep, long pull.

“So—” Matilda crossed her jeans-clad legs and leaned forward “—where do you go, Jillian, in San Antonio to meet men?”

Brody choked, coughed and banged the beer bottle on the side ledge of his barbecue grill. Men were off-
limits to his sister, or so he wished. That was the easiest way to protect her. And the thought of Jillian pursuing some man,
any
man other than him, turned his stomach inside out.

He'd hoped getting his sister and Jillian together would have been good for all concerned. Now he wasn't so sure.

“Are you all right?” Jillian called to him as he sputtered and coughed again.

He gave a grim nod, forked a steak and set it on the grill. The meat sizzled and popped like his nerves.

“I don't get out much.” Jillian leaned back into the cushioned chair and continued her conversation with Matilda. “I haven't lived in San Antonio long enough to know where to look for men.” She gave Brody a sidelong glance and seemed too pleased with the topic of conversation.

Brody felt a jarring sense of panic. Did she want to go looking for men? Or was she nettling him with his sister's manhunt?

For two women who seemed so different, he thought, they sure had found a common ground. Jillian was the epitome of femininity in her soft flowing skirts and carefully styled blond hair. While his sister was a tomboy, in her jeans, boots, and wildly waving blond tresses. For two opposites and relative strangers, who had only met once ten years ago, they acted as if they were long lost friends. He clenched his jaw. Wasn't that what he'd wanted?

“Maybe we should go out together.” Matilda sipped the frozen Margarita she'd made in Brody's blender. “Really kick up our heels. See the sights. Meet some men.”

Sirens went off in Brody's brain, sending galvanizing sparks along his spine. He froze, his hand gripping the steak fork hard as he waited for Jillian's response.

Jillian slanted a mischievous gaze toward Brody as she sipped her sparkling water. “That might be fun.”

Aggravated and distressed, Brody realized his sister had the moves—and the looks—that would attract men like koalas to a eucalyptus tree. The realization that she was a full-grown woman with a body to prove it set his teeth on edge.

And Jillian! Hell, if the two of them set out to find men, Brody had no doubts they'd attract a Texas truckload of willing cowboys.

He'd hoped Jillian would act as a good influence on Matilda, but now he was beginning to think the reverse was happening. What would he do if they wanted to go out shopping for men? Could he stop them? His shoulders bunched with anger. And he could only aim it at himself.

He had to protect his sister. But a stronger, more urgent need to protect Jillian shot through him, too. From herself, even. But how? And why? Hell, he wasn't sure about anything anymore.

Matilda stood up from the table, stretching her arms wide, arching her back. “It feels so good to be free from the ranch. The security out there is tighter, more restrictive, than a training bra.”

“Matilda!” Brody called a warning.

“Well, it is!” She gave a huff of indignation. “Just because some loony-tune is on the loose…what's his name?”

“Clint Lockhart. And he's not a loon. He's an escaped convict. A murderer.”

“Who is this?” Jillie asked, alarm arching her eyebrows.

Brody took a deep breath, closed the barbecue lid on the steaks and walked toward the women. He squared his shoulders. Maybe he could scare a little common sense into Jillie if not Matilda. “The man murdered Uncle Ryan's second wife, Sophia.”

Jillie's mouth opened with shock.

“He had been arrested and was in prison. During a prisoner transfer the police car wrecked and he bailed,” he continued, determined to drive home his point that the real world of strange men and crazy notions was not safe. “He's been out on the loose since. But the police think he's in the area.”

Matilda rolled her eyes and yawned with disinterest. “Uncle Ryan's worried this guy might show up at the ranch.”

Brody scowled at his little sister. “We should all be taking extra precautions. Lockhart hates the Fortunes. Believes they stole his birthright out from under him when they bought his family's ranch.”

“See!” Matilda exclaimed. “It has nothing to do with me.”

“It has everything to do with you. You're a Fortune. He could exact his revenge—if that's what he's looking for—on any one of us if he thought it would hurt Uncle Ryan.”

“Oh, he's probably a million miles from here.” Matilda turned away, exasperated. “You and Griff need to stop worrying so much.”

“It's my job to worry, little sister. About the fam
ily. And especially about you. Get used to it.” Now he had Jillie to worry about, too.

Matilda gave a huff of indignation and Brody stalked back to check the steaks.

Whispering as if he couldn't hear them, Matilda confided to Jillian, “He thinks he's so smart. Mr. Know-it-all.” She plopped down on the cushioned chair. “If I would've known Brody was going to act like Griff I wouldn't have bothered to come to San Antonio to visit.”

“He's just trying to protect you,” Jillian said.

Brody nodded, silently agreeing with her, hoping she'd continue in that vein.

“He's just being bossy,” Matilda complained. “I wish he'd get married—like Reed. Then he wouldn't worry about me so much. It's going to be dull as dirt around here.”

“Not necessarily,” Jillian said. “Maybe I can enlist your help while you're here.”

Brody tensed, his hand paused in lifting the lid to the barbecue. Now what?

“To help find you a man?” Matilda laughed. “I always thought you and Brody would get married. What ever happened between you two?”

Jillian's shocked glance met his. His spine was as straight as a metal spike as he anticipated her answer.

He looked away, busied himself turning the steaks, and mumbled to himself, “It's none of your damn business.”

“Oh, it's a long story,” Jillian answered for him. Did he hear regret in her voice? She fiddled with her skirt, straightening the hem, pinching the seams between nervous fingers.

Suddenly he wanted to hear her version of their past. Something had come between them, something more than her mother's sudden illness. Otherwise why hadn't she told him? Why hadn't she cried on his shoulder? Why hadn't she turned to him when her mother died, instead of James? The questions burned like red-hot coals in his gut.
Because you were thousands of miles away.

“Just wasn't meant to be,” Jillian said in a distant, remote voice that made him wonder if fate had kept them apart for a reason. Or if it had all been a mistake.

“Really?” Matilda crossed her legs and leaned forward, propping her chin on her hands. “You both seemed so much in love. And Brody never would talk about what happened. I must have asked him a million times why you went back to the States, why he didn't go after you.”

Despite the Texas heat, a cold sweat broke out on Brody's forehead. He remembered the shock, the sharp pain, the barbs of betrayal he'd felt when he'd gone to pick Jillian up that long-ago night. He'd made special plans for them—reservations at a sleek, upscale restaurant that offered candlelight and romantic music, then a suite at the finest hotel in Sydney. He'd wanted the night to be special, magical…when they finally made love. His heart still ached with distrust over her sudden desertion. If he allowed himself to fall in love with her once more, would she bail again?

Jillian's complexion flushed along her neck and cheeks. “It doesn't matter now anyway.”

“No more sparks, then?” Matilda asked, getting too personal for Brody's peace of mind.

He gave a slight negative shake of his head, denying the attraction to Jillian, but he couldn't ignore the truth blazing inside him, turning him inside out each time he looked at her. Hell, there were enough sparks between Jillie and himself to start a fire that could consume all of Texas…even Australia.

“Or are you involved with someone else now?” Matilda's obsession with love and romance—especially his and Jillie's—grated on Brody's nerves.

He squinted at Jillian who sat as still as a Texas summer breeze. She looked pale, distraught. Damn, he should have told Matilda about Jillian's recent loss of her husband. But he'd thought the women would discuss clothes and makeup, maybe a recipe or two. Frowning at his sister, he should have known better.

“No,” Jillian answered, her lips compressed. Then she shrugged and stared down at her lap. Her hair fell forward, veiling her delicate features. She looked lost and very much alone. His heart ached for her. “Well, I guess you could say I'm involved. Or will be.”

“With whom?”

Her hands covered her lower abdomen. Lifting her head, she smiled softly…maternally. Brody felt a catch in his chest. “With my baby.”

“Ohmygosh!” Matilda jumped up from her seat. “You're pregnant!”

Jillian nodded. “Almost four months now.”

“Oh! That's wonderful!” Wrapping her arms across her middle, Matilda contained her enthusiasm. His little sister showed more compassion and understanding than Brody would have given her credit for when she placed a hand on Jillian's knee. “It is wonderful, isn't it?”

“Yes.” Jillian's eyes and voice filled with tears and flooded Brody's soul with regrets that the baby wasn't his. “It is.”

“Who's the father?”

“Matilda—” A cold knot settled in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh, I know it's none of my business. I just…I'm so excited for you.”

“Thank you,” Jillian said, a warm glow entering her eyes. “I'm a widow. My husband died this summer.” At Matilda's gasp, Jillian covered his sister's hand with her own. “It's okay. I'm okay.” A firm conviction rang in her voice.

“I'm so sorry, Jillian.” Matilda's voice filled with tears. “And here I've been going on and on about men.”

“Don't worry about it.” Jillian gave her a soothing smile. “No worries,” she added the easy Australian phrase.

“What can I do to help? Would you like a baby shower?” When Jillian shook her head, Matilda kept on. “How about help with the nursery? I've always wanted to decorate a nursery. We'll have so much fun buying sweet little clothes. A teddy bear. Every baby needs a teddy bear.”

Jillian leaned back in her chair, blinked away the tears and laughed. The lovely sound of her laughter brought much-needed relief. “I'd love it if you helped me. I was going to invite you to do just that.”

“Just imagine how your life is going to change. It's going to be so wonderful.” His sister got a dreamy look in her gray eyes that alarmed Brody. “We'll help make it wonderful. Won't we, Brody?”

He gave an affirmative nod, his throat clogged with uncertain emotions.

“I've always wanted a baby,” Matilda added.

Brody's hand faltered as he lifted a steak off the grill.

“Just find a good man first. I didn't. Even though my marriage was less than perfect, it's like I've been given a second chance with this baby.” Maternal love filled Jillian's voice. “Don't make the same mistakes I did.”

“Oh, Jillian,” Matilda said, her voice softening, “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—”

“It's okay. I know what you meant. And I appreciate it. I wish more than anything that I was married, that I wasn't bringing this baby into the world alone. I know what it's like to grow up without a father. But I guess we can't have everything we want.”

Brody's nerves electrified. Was Jillian looking for a husband? Marriage? He had a sudden urge to make it happen for her—to become her husband—to offer her exactly what she wanted. But did she want him?

And is that what he wanted? An instant family?

Before he could make a fool of himself, reason and logic kicked into gear and he took an emotional step back. Doubts mingled with regret and fears. The baby she carried should have been his. Jillian should have been his wife. But she wasn't. She never had been. Never would be.

“Just don't rush into marriage,” Jillian continued. “Like I did. Take your time. You're so young. Find the right man first.”

Brody's heart contracted at Jillian's words. She had found the right man first, he thought. Him. But she'd
left him and married James instead. Anger shot through him. He'd never forgive himself for letting his pride stop him from going after her. Now it was too damn late.

“Maybe I can help you find a good man,” Matilda offered. “There are a lot of men at the ranch.”

Jillian chuckled. “Oh, yeah, right. In a month or so I'll really be showing. I'm sure some man wants to be with a big, fat pregnant lady. How romantic.” She shook her head. “No, thanks. Even though I wish I could fall in love with someone wonderful and he would love helping to raise my child, I've resigned myself to the facts. It's a lot of responsibility for someone to take on.