Catherine Mann – Pregnant by the Cowboy CEO (страница 6)

Her shoulders went back, her breasts straining at the strapless dress, teardrop earrings brushing her bare shoulders. She flicked her long hair over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing. She stomped down the porch steps, hem of her bridesmaid’s gown in her fists and hitched to her knees so she could storm closer all the faster. Something had lit her fuse. He wanted her attention back on him anyway.

He stopped in his tracks and waited. Anticipation pumped through him. Even mad, she was incredible, a sight not to be missed. Besides, there was something about knowing he got under her skin this much. That he’d put all that spark and fire inside her.

She stopped in front of him under the shade of a sprawling oak strung with white lights. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, enticingly. “Are you responsible for this?”

Responsible for what? He could hardly think with her so close, her heaving breasts nearly brushing his chest. He would only need to move one step closer. “You’ll need to narrow that down for me.”

“You said on the dance floor that we need to talk soon.” She jabbed him in the chest with one finger.

He grabbed her finger. “And you said our secretaries need to set up a lunch next week.”

“Did you know that couldn’t possibly happen? Did you pressure my grandmother into making me travel with you around the country this week?”

He dropped her hand. He didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. He was heading out for a week to launch a new line for Diamonds in the Rough, but he’d made no plans to take her along. Apparently she thought otherwise for some reason.

Still, that didn’t explain her angry reaction. They’d worked together for two months. Why was she so upset about this trip? He was missing something and he wasn’t sure what.

But he intended to find out. “Why would I go out of my way to insist on that?”

“For a week of repeats of our encounter in the coat closet two months ago.”

Righteous indignation steamed through him. “Have I pressured you in any way that would make you assume that I would disregard your wishes? Because I take the issue of sexual harassment in the workplace damn seriously.”

“No, you haven’t done anything inappropriate,” she acquiesced, chewing her full bottom lip. “But you sounded determined tonight. I just had to know if you’re manipulating me behind the scenes as well.”

Unable to resist taunting her, he stepped closer, letting his gaze linger on her mouth as their bodies brushed. “Should I have?”

A light flashed in the night sky and an appreciative murmur went up from a crowd gathered on the western lawn. The fireworks show had started to celebrate the nuptials.

“Quit twisting my words around.” She tipped her face toward him without backing down, her creamy skin lit by the purple-and-white lights sparking overhead. “I don’t like being played, that’s all.”

He swept a stray lock of silky dark hair over her shoulder, his knuckles skimming her soft skin, the teardrop earring cool across the top of his hand. “I take this to mean we’re going on a business trip together this week.”

The crowd watching fireworks cheered as a series of pops and bangs ended in a giant red heart burning into the cloudless Texas sky.

Her eyebrows pinched together, her gaze never wavering to watch the display. “You really don’t know about my grandmother’s plan for us?”

Gently, he gripped her shoulders and turned her so she could see the bright red heart before it faded. While she watched, he leaned closer to speak into her ear.

“I have no reason to lie to you.” In fact, he just wanted to open a dialogue with her so they could figure out how to work together—or resume the affair. He couldn’t help but wonder if part of the reason they kept sparking off each other was that they hadn’t let all that attraction run its course. “It’s been tough breaking through your walls these past two months, but I wouldn’t go to someone else to take care of that problem for me. And I certainly wouldn’t worry a terminally ill person with my concerns.”

She turned to face him again, giving him a clipped nod, some of the tension easing from her while the orchestra played a Mozart piece timed to coordinate with the explosions in the air.

He leaned back against the tree trunk and jammed his hands into his pockets and away from temptation. “Now catch me up to speed about what’s going on with this business trip, since it appears to involve us both and Diamonds in the Rough.”

“My grandmother has insisted that I accompany you for the unveiling of the new line to reassure the stockholders that the McNairs fully endorse your leadership.” Sighing, she perched a hand on her hip.

Preston’s gaze fell to her waist, the dips and curves of her so damn alluring his mouth watered. “That’s a sound business decision on her part. What’s the problem?”

He didn’t understand why she was so upset. She’d worked hard on the new line, had invested a lot of time and creative energy toward putting it together. She deserved to see the first public reactions to her work.

But she shook her head. Visibly upset.

“The problem is... She’s an amazing woman and I just want to do what she needs.” She blinked back tears, making her blue eyes shine in the reflected light from the soaring roman candles in a multicolored display. That sheen in her gaze made him want to hold her.

“Amie?” He resisted the urge to reach for her, half certain she would bolt. “Losing someone you love is not easy. I’m sorry about your grandmother’s illness.”

“Me, too.” She swiped her wrist over her eyes, smudging mascara. “So we’re traveling together this week for the unveiling tour. Just the two of us.”

“Apparently so.” He wondered what her grandmother was up to with this last-minute idea and why she hadn’t discussed it with him first. “To Los Angeles, New York City and Atlanta. It may be for the best. We have to figure out how to work together without all this tension.”

He had sensed that Amie was working on a private project these last few weeks and he wondered why she hadn’t shared any details. That kind of closed-off creativity didn’t benefit the larger company. He needed her communicating more.

Had that been Mariah McNair’s intent, to smooth the business waters before she passed away? It wasn’t such an odd wish. The woman did live, eat and breathe the business, even from her sickbed.

Amie crossed her arms over her chest, her breasts pushing even harder against the fabric. “We’ve been doing fine so far at the office.”

“Are you serious?” These had been some of the most tense workweeks in his life. He’d never had personnel problems—until now. Until her.

“Has my work performance been in any way substandard?”

“Of course not,” he admitted, not mentioning the way she’d retreated to her office for long periods at a time with her door closed. “But it would help workplace morale if you didn’t act like you want me dead.”

Her shoulders sagged, her eyes softening. “I do not want you dead.”

“Then how exactly do you want me?” He stepped closer, his eyes falling to her mouth, to her full lips. Amie McNair had a way of knocking the props out from under him by just walking into a room, and he was damn tired of tap dancing around the subject. He was too old for games.

The fireworks on the lawn churned faster, shot after shot popping and exploding, sending showers of sparks into the night sky. The fireworks reflected in Amie’s eyes as she stepped back, expression iced over again. “If we’re going to be away for a week, I should start packing.”

Turning, she marched across the grass, her beautiful body illuminated by white lights in the sky that turned on and off, on and off.

Just like Amie herself.

* * *

Amie was exhausted to her toes. Not just from the wedding but from the shocking talk with her grandmother to the confrontation with Preston.

She was truly going to spend a week alone with him.

Closing her bedroom door, she finally let her guard down. Kneeling, she held out her hands for her cats, a gray tabby in her lap, a Siamese at her feet, both hers, and Mariah’s two Persians as well. Yes, she was just shy of a crazy-cat-lady starter kit, but her furbabies brought her comfort. With a final stroke along each feline’s arched back, she stood. She’d loved growing up on a farm with animals all around, even if her room was far from rustic, a jewel box of a space, from the strands of multicolored glass beads around her bed, to the stained-glass insets in the high windows above her reading area.

Walking out of her shoes, she reached behind her to unzip the bridesmaid’s dress. She shimmied it down and kicked it aside. She sagged to sit on the edge of her bed. She flopped back on the bed, the silk of her camisole and tap pants soft against her skin still tingling from Preston’s touch. Damn it, she hated losing her composure. And to lose it twice in one night?

Her hand slid over her stomach. No baby bump yet, but soon more than just her breasts would be swelling. And her hormones were out of control, leaving her tearful most of the time and nauseated the rest of the time. Her figure would soon be evident to everyone. No more pageant jokes about her size.