Yvonne Lindsay - Expecting the CEO's Child

She looked at him in surprise. “Oh? What’s that?”

“That we get married and raise the baby together.”

To his chagrin she laughed. Not just laughed but snorted and snuffled with it as if she couldn’t contain her mirth.

“It’s not so impossible to think of, is it?” he demanded.

“Impossible? It’s ridiculous, Dylan. We barely know one another.”

He nodded in agreement. “True. That’s something easily rectified.”

All humor fled from her face. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Never more so.”

“No. It would never work. Not in a million years.”

“Why not? We already know we’re...” he paused a moment for effect, his eyes skimming her face, her throat and lower “...compatible.”

“Great sex isn’t the sole basis for a compatible marriage,” she protested.

“It’s a start,” he said, his voice deepening.

Hot color danced in her cheeks—due to anger or something else? he wondered. Something like desire, perhaps?

“Not for me it isn’t. Look, can we agree to disagree on the subject of marriage? I’ve already said I won’t stand in your way when it comes to seeing the child. Can we leave it at that for now?”

“Sure, for now. But, Jenna, one thing you will learn about me is that I never give up. Especially not on something this important.”

Four

Jenna’s heart hammered a steady drumbeat in her chest. He looked deadly serious. This wasn’t how she had imagined their meal together going, not at all. She certainly hadn’t imagined that he’d spring an offer of marriage on her like that.

Sure, there was probably a list as long as her arm of women who would jump at the opportunity. But she wasn’t like that. And she’d meant it when she’d said his life was in L.A. and not here, because it was. While it was true that he’d been in Wyoming more often lately, it was only because of the new Grill opening in town. Once that was up and running he’d be straight back to the West Coast. Back to his high life and being featured in the celebrity news with his beautiful women.

No, marriage to Dylan Lassiter didn’t even bear thinking of, she decided as she forced herself to take another bite of the melt-in-your-mouth perfection of the meal he’d prepared. He might be spending more time in the boardroom these days, she mused, but he hadn’t lost his knack in the kitchen.

Maybe it would be worth marrying him just to have meals like this every day, she thought flippantly. An image of him barefoot and in the kitchen, wearing an apron and not much else, hovered in her mind, sending a pull of longing through her.

No, get a grip on yourself, she chided silently. She’d never settled for anything less than perfection when it came to a relationship. It was why she so rarely dated. That was why her behavior with Dylan back in March was such an aberration.

Once people began to notice her pregnancy, she had no doubt there’d be a whole ton of questions asked. Uncomfortable questions. Her hard-fought-for privacy would be invaded—her reputation open for all of Cheyenne to discuss. It shouldn’t bother her, but it did. She knew what it was like to be the focus of unwanted attention, and she’d worked hard to stay out of the public eye ever since.

“I’m glad you acknowledge that our child is important. I happen to agree, which is why I’m not going to rush into anything or make any decisions today,” she finally stated.

“You’re important, too, Jenna,” he answered softly.

For a second she felt a swelling in her chest—a glimmer of something ephemeral, an intangible dream emerging on the periphery of her thoughts. Then reality intruded. She shook her head.

“Don’t lie to me, Dylan. We both know that since March neither of us has made any attempt to contact or see one another, until today. In fact, if you didn’t have the restaurant opening coming up, we probably wouldn’t even be here right now.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve thought about that evening a lot.”

Jenna couldn’t stop the warm tingling sensation that spread from the pit of her belly at his words.

“Don’t!” she blurted.

“Don’t what? Don’t admit that we were blisteringly good together? Tell me you haven’t thought about us, about what we did—and haven’t wanted to try again. Even just to see if it wasn’t some kind of weird fluke.”

“I—”

Her throat closed up, blocked by a swell of need so fierce it overwhelmed her. She forced herself to erase the visual image that now burned in the back of her mind. An image he’d put there without so much as a speck of effort because it was always there, always waiting to be brought out into the light and examined, relived. She squirmed on her seat, suddenly uncomfortable, aching. For him. For more.

“Fine,” she muttered curtly. “We were good together, but that’s no basis for a future. We are two totally different people. Our lives barely intersect.”

“That’s not to say that they couldn’t. Don’t you want to just try it?”

He looked so earnest, sitting there opposite her at the table. It would be all too easy to give in, but she’d worked too hard for too damn long to even consider giving up her hard-won freedom, not to mention her hard-earned respect from the community.

She herself had been the product of a hurried marriage, one that hadn’t worked on any level and had led to hardship and unhappiness for all concerned. She would not inflict that on her baby. No matter how enticing that baby’s father was. No matter how much she wanted him.

What did he know of marriage, of commitment? Their own liaison was a perfect example of the impulsive life he led. See something? Want it? Have it, then just walk away without a backward glance. She couldn’t risk that he’d do that with their child, let alone her. Not now, not ever.

“No,” she said firmly. “I don’t. Please don’t push me on this issue, Dylan.”

“Okay,” he acceded.

She felt her shoulders relax.

“For today,” he amended.

And the tension was right back again. He cracked a smile and she was struck again by his male beauty. There was not a thing about him, physically at least, that didn’t set her body on fire. As to his morals, well, that was something else entirely. But her behavior didn’t reflect so well on her, either, she reminded herself.

“Don’t look so serious, Jenna. We’ll declare a truce for this evening, all right?”

His voice was coaxing, warm. And almost her very undoing.

“Truce, then,” she agreed, and applied herself again to her meal.

It truly was too good to ignore and, much as she hated to admit it, he was right that she should be eating better. Weariness had been quite an issue for her, and while prenatal vitamins and supplements were helping, nothing really substituted for a healthy diet and plenty of rest.

“More?” Dylan asked when her plate was empty.

“I’m stuffed,” she said, leaning back in her chair with a smile on her face. “That was excellent, thank you.”

“Just part of the package,” he said with a smile. “So, are you too stuffed to think about dessert? Can I tempt you with some raspberry and white chocolate cheesecake?”

“Tempt me? Are you kidding? Of course I want dessert.”

When he took the dish from the refrigerator she almost dissolved into a puddle of delight.

“You made that, too?” she asked as he sliced a piece for her. She reached out and nabbed a white chocolate curl from off the top, laughing as he went to slap her hand away and missed.

“Not me personally this time. It’s one of the desserts we’re trialing for the steak house,” he said, sliding her plate toward her. “I picked it up this afternoon.”