Vegas Pregnancy Surprise (9 page)

Then her gaze lit on a matching door to the right. Marcus Curtis, Vice President.

Linc’s brother, the one Harry had mentioned last night. Of course.

Molly thought of the journal in her bag. Who better to tell her about Linc than his own brother? Perhaps Marcus Curtis wouldn’t be as closed off as Lincoln. Surely he had plenty of memories of Linc to share. She crossed to the second office, raised her hand and knocked.

No answer.

She knocked again, a little harder this time, and heard a voice on the other side, saying, she thought, “Come in.” She opened the door, and entered the room. A man stood at the window, his back to her.

“Mr. Curtis? I’m Molly Hunter. I work for Lincoln and—”

The man wheeled around. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Linc.” Molly stumbled to a stop. Had she accidentally walked into the wrong office? “I’m sorry. I was looking for your brother and I thought—”

“My brother isn’t here.” He crossed the room in three short strides, fury emanating from him in palpable waves. “What could you possibly want with my brother?”

“I…” Molly’s voice trailed off. What could she tell him? Certainly not the truth. She looked from Linc to the empty desk, confused. Where was Marcus Curtis? Why was Linc in here? And why was he so angry? “I…I wanted to get his input on the software program. I mean, he went to the same summer camp as you did and I thought—”

“You
didn’t
think, Molly. Or ask anyone. You just barged in here.” Linc’s voice was harsh, the edges of his words sharp. “My brother is dead. So he can’t answer your questions. Or for that matter, mine.”

Then Linc brushed past her and out of the room.

Well. He hadn’t handled that very well. At all. He’d attacked Molly, and for something that wasn’t her fault.

It wasn’t like there was a sign outside of Marcus’s door, saying “deceased.” His brother’s office looked the same today as it had the last time Marcus had walked through those doors. As if Marcus was going to show up tomorrow at Curtis Systems, the same familiar goofy grin on his face, a ready joke on his lips, and take his place at the conference table.

Linc’s gaze strayed to the photo of his brother on the wall. Marcus’s wide grin dominated the image, so evocative of his younger brother’s spirit. Devil-may-care, live-for-the-moment, put responsibility aside at every possible juncture to grab a moment of fun.

And where had that gotten him?

Linc shook his head, shoving the thoughts to the back of his mind. Then he pushed aside the work on his desk, got to his feet, and went in search of Molly. He’d been wrong, and he needed to do something to make it right again.

He found her just outside the R & D room, her hand on the doorknob, about to enter. “Molly.”

She turned toward him, and the war of emotions on her face—anger, hurt, disappointment—said it all. He’d been a jerk. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about how I acted back there. I just didn’t expect to find anyone in my brother’s office. It’s just…” Linc let out a breath. “It’s just been very hard on me since he died.”

Understatement of the year.

“I’m so sorry, Linc.” Her features softened and she took a step toward him. Her hand lighted on his arm, a sympathetic, soothing touch. “I can only imagine how hard it must have been to lose someone you love like that. From what Harry said, Marcus must have been a wonderful person.”

Pain arced in his chest, and he swallowed hard. He could see the unasked question in her eyes, the one that would tear that wound further.

How did he die?

No. He wouldn’t go there. Not now. Not ever. Linc broke the contact between them. “I just wanted to stop by to apologize. I won’t keep you. I’m sure Roy is waiting for you—”

She shook her head, cutting off his sentence. “Actually, I told him I was planning on spending the day with you.”

He blinked. “With me?”

“You’ve been Mr. Invisible since we started this, and while your notebook has been a great start, it’s not the same as having you.” She eyed him. “This is your dream, Linc. You can’t just hand it off to other people and expect them to fulfill it.”

She wanted him to be involved? Hadn’t he already made it clear over a week ago that he didn’t need to be a part of this? He’d given her his notes, after all. What more did she need? “I can certainly stop in throughout the day and offer suggestions.”

That was all. Don’t ask for anything more.

But she didn’t read his thoughts. “Not good enough. I want more.”

He arched a brow. “More?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned as a teacher, it’s that students learn best in a visual setting. I’m your student on this, and I want you to show me.”

“Show you?” What was she suggesting? “How? Where? When?”

“Today, now, with me.” She laughed, the sound light as spring rain. “Take the day off, Linc, and come with me.”

He stared at her. The words reverberated in his head, so…foreign, he almost couldn’t comprehend them.
“Take the day off?”

Another tinkling of laughter escaped Molly. “Are you just going to repeat everything I say?” A tease lit her eyes. “Yes, the whole day. Off, as in no work, from here until tomorrow. Don’t tell me you’ve never done that.”

“Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I did.” That was a lie. He could remember. Three years ago this past April. He’d taken a week off, at Marcus’s suggestion, and gone off on one of those adventure vacations. Two days into his vacation—

And he’d had to jet back to deliver the worst possible news to Marcus’s widow.

Linc shook his head. “Molly—”

“The company won’t fall apart if you take one day off. I’m positive of that.”

What was it with this woman? Why did she keep trying to push him to do the very things he avoided? Didn’t she understand it wasn’t just about taking the day off?

It was about entering the world that Molly inhabited. The one of ordinary people. People who lived in picket-fenced houses, with dogs and kids. People who could put everything aside at a moment’s notice—

And rent a room in a hotel in Vegas with a stranger. And imagine falling in love with that stranger, having a life with her. A future.

Molly cocked her head and flashed him a smile. “So what do you say, Lincoln Curtis? Wanna play hooky?”

Everything within him wanted to say no, knew he should say no, just at the thought of the sheer logistics involved in rearranging his schedule, but then his gaze met hers, and the teasing flirtation sparkling in her green eyes. In an instant, he was back in that bar with her, and she was looking at him exactly the same way, seeing Linc, not Lincoln Curtis, but Linc.

For just one night, he’d felt freedom. From his life. From his job. From the relentless tight yoke of his responsibilities, but most of all, from the burden of guilt that had weighed heavier than two anvils on his shoulders for all these years. And imagined something different.

Play hooky, she’d asked. It was like giving himself a temporary pardon, with a beautiful woman by his side.

“Yes,” he said, before his better judgment could override his decision.

L
AKE
M
EAD
sprawled in front of them, more than two hundred square miles of deep blue beauty, sparkling in the bright sunshine. Boats and kayaks dotted the lake, while swimmers and sunbathers populated the rocky shore. In the far distance, the Hoover Dam’s massive wall held the gallons and gallons of water in place, while craggy rock formations in soft hues of terra-cotta, pale yellow and purple, surrounded the lake, as if Mother Nature had painted her own natural barrier from the world.

“It’s beautiful,” Molly said on a breath. “Absolutely amazing. When I picked this place from the brochure, I had no idea it would be so wonderful in person.”

“I haven’t been here in forever. My parents used to take us here when we were kids, nearly every weekend in the summer,” Linc said. “I’d forgotten how beautiful it was.”

But he wasn’t talking about the lake. He meant Molly—

And she had no idea.

Sunshine lit Molly’s hair from above, casting golden tones over the dark brown tresses, making her seem kissed by the rays themselves. A soft smile held steady on her face, as if happiness had taken hold deep inside her and refused to let go. She wore a floral skirt today, and a plain eyelet white top, a summery, simple outfit that took years off her age and made him, in his suit and tie, feel old and set in his ways beside her. Everything about Molly screamed carefree, happy, light.

The exact opposite of him.

She intrigued him. Mystified him.

“Come on,” Molly said, putting out her hand. “Let’s go down to the water.”

Linc glanced at her, then at the lake lapping gently along the shore. “I’m not exactly dressed for that.”

She tossed him a grin. “Then get that way.” She bent down, slipped off her low-heeled shoes and tossed them to the side. Her bare feet sank into the sand between the big stones peppering the beach, with only her red polished toes peeking out like a tease. Then she propped a fist on her hip and waited for him to do the same. When he hesitated, she laughed. “Yes, Linc, take off your shoes. Roll up the cuffs of that gazillion-dollar suit. And let’s walk on the beach. I promise, you won’t melt. You might get wet, but you’ll live.”

He thought of arguing, of saying he could certainly tell her about his experiences at camp and his ideas for the software without having to get barefoot, but then a sudden, crazy urge rose inside him. The same one that had spurred him into the hotel bar that night, and made him open up to a perfect stranger.

To be a part of the playful, carefree attitude that surrounded Molly like a cloud. She stood there, smiling at him, waiting, expecting him to join her.

And so Lincoln Curtis, multi-millionaire CEO owner of one of the top software companies in the country, bent down, unlaced his Ferragamo dress shoes, kicked them into the sand, then rolled up the cuffs of his tailor-made suit and headed down to the water’s edge with Molly.

The delicate sandpipers darted away as they neared, but the staid mallard ducks kept on swimming in steady circles, unaffected by the human presence. Every once in a while, one would dip under the surface of the water for a quick fish snack. It was all so ordinary, so out of Linc’s normal realm that he felt as if he’d jetted to another planet.

Beneath his feet, the soft, damp sand was cool. A light breeze whispered across his face, danced along his bare legs, while the sun warmed his face and back. God, he’d forgotten how good it felt just to be outside.

He reached out and took Molly’s hand in his, the connection so natural it was as if she’d always been by his side. He wanted more, wanted to crush her to his chest, wanted to kiss her, but for now he simply held her hand and enjoyed the beach. And Molly.

“Tell me what would make a child want to learn more about a place like this. A child like you used to be,” Molly said.

He chuckled. “You mean, what would make them put aside their books—or in my case, spreadsheets and conference calls—and take time to get down in the dirt, so to speak, here?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure I know.” He glanced out at the blue expanse of water, searching for an answer in the vast depths of Lake Mead. “Sometimes, when you spend day after day behind the glass walls of an office, you forget what the real world is like. What it’s like to have the sun on your face, the sand and rocks under your feet. What it’s like to just…be.”

“But you’re wealthy,” she said. “Surely you must take vacations to exotic locations, with luxury hotels and miles of beaches. Places with lots more sand than this.”

He snorted. “Money doesn’t always equal freedom.”

Molly cocked her head and studied him, waiting, he knew, for him to elaborate.

He didn’t.

Instead he released her and picked up one of the hundreds of rocks littering the beach. He bounced it in his palm, then turned toward Molly. “Do you see those rock croppings out there in the water?” He pointed toward a long, multi-colored line of rocks that snaked into the lake, like fingers.

She nodded.

“They date back all the way to the Paleozoic and Mesozoic age. They’ve shifted and moved over the years, because of the movement of the tectonic plates running beneath us, which is what gives them all those fault lines. That means even this rock—” he turned it over in his hand “—could go all the way back to the dinosaur age.”

She bent down and picked up a second rock. “How cool. And interesting.”

“I look at those stacks of rocks, and think about how long they’ve been there, in that same place. When I was a kid, I read books about rocks. That’s how I learned about these ones, actually. It was in a book I got for my eighth birthday. I even had a rock collection at one time. My dad used to travel a lot for his job, and he’d bring me home a rock from whatever city he’d been in.”

“Why rocks?”

He thought a moment. “They’re steady. They don’t change, not unless some massive force of nature impacts them.”

“Like you?”

“Me?” He chuckled. “I’m not that bad.”

She started walking along the shore, with him keeping pace alongside her. Molly stepped along the water’s edge, the lake ebbing in and out and dancing with her delicate feet. “I don’t know you very well,” she said, “but if you ask me, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that in real life you’re about as relaxed as a brick.”

He’d been about to talk about the marvels of geological formations, about the incredible handiwork of Mother Nature, when Molly’s statement dropped a surprise into the conversation. “In my real life?”

She paused and caught his gaze. “I don’t count that night in the bar as our real lives. Do you?”

Her emerald gaze held so many questions, ones he hadn’t even answered for himself. A part of him ached to reach out and touch her, to draw her into his arms and end all discussion of rocks and lives and who each of them really were. But he didn’t. “When you’re the boss, there’s a lot of stress on your shoulders. If I don’t seem relaxed, it’s because I’m not.”

“But you were that night,” she persisted.

“A temporary condition, sort of like a twenty-four-hour flu,” he said, tossing off the words like a joke. “Now, back to the software. I think something like these rocks would really interest kids. They’re like…dinosaur rocks.” He tossed the stone back onto the ground. “When I was a kid, I read every book on geology I could get my hands on. Then my dad brought me home that rock collection, and suddenly what I’d seen on the page was real. I wanted to get out there and find more of those rocks in real life for myself. That’s the kind of thing I want other kids to find. They’ll use the software, and that will whet their appetite—”

“For kicking off their shoes and walking in the sand?” Molly finished for him.

“Exactly. So if we make the program interactive, with activities that encourage them to go outside, and employ what they learn on the screen in the real world—”

“It’ll become a program that makes them truly interact with the world.”

“Exactly. Don’t just click through stuff on dinosaur rocks, go out and look for some.” Linc veered away from the beach, and headed back up the shore. “Did you get what you needed? I should get back to the office.”

“You’re not very good at this, are you?” She laughed, then bent down and picked up their shoes, handing his to him, and tucking hers under her arm. She reached out and grabbed his arm, and started leading him back to the parking lot. “I have no intentions of letting you go back to work. In fact, think of this as a kidnapping. An all-day adventure kidnapping.”

The smile on her face, and the way she had taken charge, both physically and verbally, sent a thrill through him. For so many years he’d been the caretaker, the boss, the one telling everyone else what to do. The decision-maker. To have Molly step up and tell him she was taking that responsibility off his shoulders—no arguments allowed—was intoxicating.

He grinned, and allowed her to lead him through the parking lot and back to the town car. “Where are we going?”

“That, Linc, is for me to know, and you to find out.” She winked, and Lincoln Curtis, the man whose days always followed a schedule, put his future temporarily in the hands of another.

Molly Hunter barely recognized herself.

It wasn’t the “I Heart Nevada” T-shirt she’d bought and changed into, or the new hot-pink flip-flops she’d exchanged for her sandals. It was this new, take-charge persona who had dragged Lincoln Curtis off to the marina on the other side of Lake Mead, told him to go into the gift shop, buy a change of clothes and then rent a boat so they could spend the afternoon out on the water.

Who was this person? And why was it that every time she got around Linc, she became so much…wilder?

At some point, she’d gone beyond pumping him for information about his personal life, and become…the woman she’d been that night she’d met him. She had to remember to tread carefully. To not get off-track.

That could lead to so much trouble—and another bad decision. One she couldn’t afford, not right now. Not ever.

“I look like a tourist,” Linc said as he joined her on the deck. He’d exchanged his business clothes for khaki shorts, a light blue T-shirt with a Lake Mead logo on the pocket, and a pair of boat shoes.

She laughed. “I think that’s the point.” She reached forward, and patted the logo on his chest. “I like this look. It suits you.”

He glanced down. “You think so?”

She nodded. “Not that I don’t like your suits, but this makes you seem more like…” She paused. “Like the man I first met.”

Had she really said that? She hadn’t intended to let those words slip out. Must be because her mind kept skipping back to that night, like a record with a stuck needle. She forced herself to look away, to concentrate on the boat.

The captain nodded toward them, then started the engine. It roared to life, then reduced to a
gurgle-gurgle
. Linc and Molly took up seats on the plush white bench at the rear of the boat. In seconds, they were off, cruising the massive lake at a leisurely speed, a gentle breeze offsetting the relentless Nevada sun. Her stomach protested a little, but Molly nibbled on the crackers she’d bought in the gift shop.

“Not much of a nutritious lunch,” Linc said, gesturing toward the crackers.

“I, uh, had a big breakfast.” That was all she needed—to have to explain to him why she was feeling nauseous. He didn’t press her, just seemed to accept her answer.

“You know, I own a boat,” Linc said. “A yacht, actually. I’ve never even been on it. I bought it a few years ago with good intentions that never got fulfilled.”

“So it’s just sitting there, in the water?”

“In dry dock. Waiting for me to find the time.”

“I love the water,” Molly said. “I’ve always wanted a boat. Never mind a yacht. But neither is exactly possible on a teacher’s salary.”

“Then maybe someday I’ll take you out on mine.”

She heard the words, the promise, and wondered if Linc really meant it, or if it was just one of those offhand comments that people make to be polite. A thrill went through her nonetheless, coupled with an image of a future—one with her and Linc together, out on the water, enjoying the day. And each other.

“That would be nice,” she said quietly. “Very nice.”

The boat slowed to a stop in the center of the lake, and the captain dropped the anchor, then cut the engine. “If you all want to fish for a while, it’s a great day for it.” He rose, and grabbed two skinny red fishing poles from a mounting bracket on the port side of the boat. “I’ve got some bait down below, too.”

Linc took the poles, handing one to Molly, while the captain ducked down into the galley of the boat to retrieve some drinks and the canister of bait. “I think we need to have the entire boating experience, don’t you?”

She grinned. “Absolutely. It’s research, after all.”

He returned the smile. “Always work, work, work with you.”

She laughed. “My goodness, Lincoln Curtis. Did you just make a joke? About work?”

He chuckled. “Seems I did. You bring out the worst in me.”

“Or is it the best?” She flashed him another grin, and as she did, she realized something—

She was flirting with him.

At some point she had shifted gears from her mission of getting to know her baby’s father to a new one of wanting to get close to Linc again, to the Linc she had first met, the one who had intrigued her and made her explore an entirely new side of herself. She’d stopped listening for clues to his past, to the answers she needed for the journal, and instead begun to look for clues to…

To whether he was interested in her, too.

He looked over at her, caught her watching him fiddling with the fishing rod, and sent her a teasing grin, the exact same one that she had seen that first night. A quiver of heat raced through her belly. The fishing pole slipped out of her hands and tumbled to the floor of the boat.

Linc came up beside her to reach for it, just as the boat shifted with a wave from a passing boat’s wake. The sudden unsteadiness tossed Linc against her. His chest collided with hers, and he curved one arm around her back, before they teetered back to a steady position.