The Stud (16 page)

She lost count of how many times they made love. She ceased to care about who was on top, how long she lay still afterward or whether Spencer's sperm count was depleted.

She didn't exactly feel a spark. In fact, by the time morning came, she was so pleasantly numb that she wasn't sure she would have felt a full-fledged explosion if it happened inside. But she knew.
She knew.
At some point that night, they had made a baby. All that was left was to wait two weeks for the proof.

Chapter 9

Sure enough, Jenna didn't get her period on the day the calendar said she was due. She didn't feel bloated or achy, the way she normally did at that time of the month. And her home pregnancy test read positive.

She was elated. Secret smiles came often and lingered. She had badly wanted a baby; now she would have one. And
what
a baby. Spencer's child would be outstanding. She couldn't wait to feel it inside her, to see it, to hold it. A May baby. Nine months seemed an eternity to wait.

That night, standing unclothed at the bathroom mirror, she looked closely at her body. Nothing of the pregnancy showed. Her breasts were no fuller than before, her stomach just as flat. She assumed it would be several more weeks before she detected the first of the changes.

Later, lying in bed with the same soft smile that had been coming and going all day, she thought about that. She wasn't in a rush to look pregnant. All along, she had intended to keep early word of the pregnancy private, simply because it was her own sweet secret and to be savored as such. She had envisioned waiting to tell her board of directors about the baby until the second trimester, and then only when she started to show. Some would disapprove of her choice of single motherhood, but by then she would be far enough along—and have enough plans made—to still their worries.

So, the board could wait to hear the news. And Jenna's friends could wait. Even Caroline could wait But Spencer? He was the one she agonized over long into the night. He had called her the week before to see how she was doing—it was the highlight of her week—and had asked when her period was due. She had upped the date by a day, thinking that she wanted to be sure,
really
sure, before she told him she was pregnant

Now she wasn't sure she wanted to tell him. She didn't want to give him the chance to say goodbye and never call again. She wanted another weekend with him. Just one more.

Was there harm in it? One little white he? Not even a lie, but the failure to tell the whole truth? Was it so wrong, given how good he made her feel as a woman and how little of that feeling she'd bad in her life? She was prepared to put being a mother above everything else, but before she did, would one last passionate fling be so awful?

She didn't think so, which was why, when he called her the following evening, she chose her words with care.

"Did you get it?" he asked after little more than a hello.

He didn't mince words, which was one of the things she loved about Spencer. He didn't hem and haw and beat around the bush like some of the men she knew. He had guts.

She hesitated just long enough to suggest pain, then spoke in a voice low enough to suggest apology. "I think we'll have to try again. " She didn't elaborate. Understatement was better, silence even better than that.

"Ahh, angel, I'm sorry. Are you feeling lousy?"

"Not too bad. "

"God, I'm sorry. I thought for sure something would have happened in Washington. I mean, we did it so much, and we were both so loose. What do you think the problem is?"

"I'm not sure there's any problem, " she said firmly. She didn't want him worrying that there was something wrong with
him.
"Two months is nothing, really. "

"I can't believe it's the position we use. I've been on top of you as much as under—and I refuse to believe it's because we did it too much—and don't even think that it might have worked if we'd done it in the doctor's office, because it wouldn't have. And even if it
might
have, " he tacked on vehemently, "I wouldn't have missed the fun we had. It was good between us. "

She felt the womanly parts of her coming alive. "I know. "

"So we'll try again. "

Softly she said, "If you don't mind. "

"I don't mind. " He sounded sober, but in no way put out.

"Thank you, Spencer. You're a good sport. "

"Uh-huh. Yeah. Well, I have a new idea this time. If we were to follow past pattern, we'd be getting together in another two weeks. I think we ought to meet sooner, like in ten days, and I think you should plan to take a real vacation from work then. I have to be in New York right around that time. I could swing by and pick you up, then fly you down here. My place is perfect for a vacation. "

"Your place?" She conjured up images of sunshine, seclusion and sand.

"It's warm and open. And relaxing. If there was ever a place to conceive a baby, this is it"

Jenna had no doubt that was true, though conception wasn't any longer a worry. The worry was her peace of mind. Seeing his home would make things harder when she had to forget him. Then again, she did want to see where he lived. "I suppose I could take a few days off, " she conceded.

"Not a few days. I'm talking a real vacation. "

She thought of the office and her appointment book for the next few weeks. The timing was actually fine. The end of August was the quietest time of the year. "I could take five days and a weekend, " she suggested.

"I was thinking ten. Plus weekends. Two full weeks. "

"I couldn't do that. "

"Sure you could. Don't tell me much of anything gets done the week before or after Labor Day. "

He had a point, she knew. "But I'm never gone from the office that long unless it's for business. "

He paused for a minute before saying, "You'll be out longer than that when you have the baby. "

"True, but I'll be close by and accessible by phone. "

"Hey, I'm not talking a trip across the Sahara by camel. I'm talking the Florida Keys. We're civilized down here. We do have phones. If you were needed, someone could call. Come on, angel, " he urged gently, "go for it. "

He was right—about Labor Day, the phone, civilization—and she wanted to be with him. Thinking about it, she realized that she couldn't have asked for a better time or a nicer place. "Okay, " she said. "But I'll meet you there. I can take a commercial flight into Miami, rent a car and drive down. "

"I'll be in New York anyway. I want to fly you back. "

"Your plane is too small. "

"But it's my plane. I know it like the back of my hand. If there's anything wrong, I can sense it before it even shows up on the dials. "

"Uh-huh. Seems to me you've had trouble with it in recent weeks. "

"And the trouble was fixed well before I crashed. "

"Obviously. If you'd crashed, you wouldn't be around to talk about it. Survival would have been impossible. That plane won't protect you from
anything.
I've seen it It looks like it's held together by rubber bands. "

"Rubber bands or not, in the past fifteen years I've criss-crossed this continent in that plane more times than you and I have fingers and toes combined.
Double
that. It's a safe plane, Jenna, and I'm a safe pilot"

"You may be, but I'm a basket case of a flyer. I'd drive you nuts before we ever got off the ground. Seriously, Spencer. It would be better for both of us if I just met you there. "

He was quiet for a minute. Then, sounding surprisingly dejected, he said, "You don't trust me. "

"I do. It's the plane I don't trust and the weather. "

Somberly he said, "I don't fly if either of those things are in question, which is more than I can say for the average commercial pilot. He has a schedule to keep. I don't Do you honestly think I have a death wish?"

"Some people might think that, given the adventures you've had. "

"But do you?"

After no more than a single heartbeat, she said, "No. " He respected life. She could tell that from his books, and from everything she'd experienced with him.

"Then fly with me. "

She squeezed her eyes shut "Spencer, I'll be
so nervous. "

"No, you won't, because you'll be sitting right beside me watching what I do, and you'll know that I wouldn't do anything to endanger either you or the baby that may be someday—if we can do it right this time. "

She didn't want to fly on his plane. She
really
didn't want to. But she felt guilty letting him think there was no baby yet, when there was, and if it was an issue of trust, there was no one she trusted more than Spencer.

"You'll be sorry, " she warned. "I'll be the worst passenger you've ever had. I may even get sick and throw up all over your cabin. " A brainstorm! She was covered in the event of morning sickness!

His tone picked up. "No sweat. I'll bring barf bags. Hey, this is great, Jenna. We'll have a terrific time. I'm really looking forward to it. "

"Uh-huh. Well, I will, too, once we get there. What should I bring?"

Based on the answer he gave—a bathing suit, shorts and T-shirts and a sun dress—Jenna surmised mat life on Spencer's Key was thoroughly informal. Not that she expected or wanted anything different. Clothes were irrelevant. Being with Spencer was what mattered.

He sent her flowers, a dozen bright yellow roses. They arrived at her office early the next morning with a note that said, "Cheer up. The best things often take the most work. We'll make it this time. S. " It was such a sweet, unnecessary thing to do—and made her feel so guilty—that she promptly burst into tears. She was abundantly grateful that she had beat most of her staff to work. She was the president of the company. Her people would be shocked to see her crying over a vase of roses.

But the roses stood proudly on her desk, giving her a tiny thrill each time she looked at them. When Spencer called two nights later, she thanked him profusely and assured him that the flowers had made her feel better. He called two nights after that to see if she was feeling all right, then three nights after that to make sure she hadn't had any trouble making vacation arrangements at the office, then, again, from New York the night before he picked her up, to make certain she was ready.

On the one hand, Jenna loved talking with him. On the other, she felt like a heel for deceiving him. So she decided that she would look her absolute spectacular best while she was with him. To that end, she had her hair conditioned and trimmed, had a facial had a manicure and pedicure. Being a McCue, she also shopped. She visited five of her stores, scattered in three different states. All five were already filled with fall clothes, but each had fitness departments that were stocked with things like bathing suits, shorts and T-shirts year-round. She struck out when it came to a sun dress, but she had enough of her own not to mind. Moreover, several of the T-shirts she bought were oversized enough to be belted into dresses this trip, then worn loose later, when she needed more room.

She had one large suitcase and a well-stuffed car-ryon waiting when Spencer picked her up at the house. "All for a bathing suit, a couple of T-shirts and shorts and a sun dress?" he asked, eyeing the bags in dismay.

She didn't take offense. He was such a wonderful sight that she doubted she could have held much of anything against him—except the plane, which she was making a monumental effort to forget. "I knew how hot it would be down there and that I'd be sweating a lot I wanted to have fresh clothes to change into. "

"I could keep you naked. It'd be simpler. " His eyes teased her with something indecent, and in spite of all they had shared, she felt a blush warm her cheeks. He laughed at that and picked up her bags. "Let's go. "

She was fine on the way to the airstrip. She didn't allow herself to think that this flight would be any different from the others she'd taken. Her heart rose to her throat when she spotted the plane, but she pushed it back down. People flew on small planes every day, she told herself. She looked out over the other private planes that were moving in the area of the runway. She didn't expect any of those to crash. There was no reason for her to believe Spencer's would.

It struck her men that she was responsible not only for her own life, but for the baby's, too, and she felt a sudden need to tell Spencer that But if she told him about the baby, he wouldn't feel impelled to take her anywhere, and she wanted so to be with him. Besides, when all was said and done, she trusted him with her life.

Holding that thought close, she stayed calm as she went with him into the flight office. After he had finished his business there, she walked with him onto the tarmac. The plane should have looked larger close up, but, if anything, the opposite was true. Still, she was composed. She trusted Spencer. He was a veteran pilot He knew what he was doing. He wouldn't let anything happen to her.

When he stowed her luggage in the back, she widened her eyes on the other things stowed there, a full assortment of bags, boxes and cartons. "What's all that?"

"Supplies. Whenever I'm up here, I buy things to bring back for the house. "

Two bags immediately caught her eye. They were a familiar purple color and were filled to the brim. "You were at McCue's?"

"I needed new towels and blankets. "

Another bag—not from McCue's—held paper goods. Several others, actually four or five, she guessed, held groceries. She saw a large cooler, a bag filled with books, a combination radio/cassette player still in its box and a bag from Tower Records. "I thought you were in New York on business. From the looks of this, you spent the whole time shopping. "

"I did do business. "

"Is your manuscript okay now?" She knew that his editor had made him do work even beyond what he had done that weekend at her house.

"Finally. " He helped her into the plane, then slid around her into the pilot's seat. As soon as their seat belts were fastened, he began to flip switches. Nonchalantly he said, "You don't look nervous. "