Reunited...and Pregnant Read online

  Why? She didn’t mean anything to him. He’d broken up with her by sending her home. He’d gone on to Vietnam, hooked up with Amy there and then God knew where. She was the one who had the right to feel caught off guard. Then again, she had had days to prepare herself to see him again. He’d only had a few minutes.

  But since she meant nothing to him, why should it matter?

  “This is just business, Beckett. I was a teenager and that was a lifetime ago. I have real problems to worry about—” like pregnancy and poverty “—and I really don’t have the time or the energy to spend thinking about something that lasted a millisecond a million years ago.”

  She needed this contract and that meant putting her and Beckett on a very firm this-is-business footing. A cynical smile touched the corner of his mouth as his eyes dropped from hers to her mouth and back again.

  “Are you really trying to tell me that the chemistry between us has disappeared? That you weren’t remembering Thailand, hot nights and sweaty bodies? The way I’d kiss you?” His eyes dropped to her crotch, and Cady thought her panties might burst into flames. “How it felt when I sank into you?”

  So he had been with her earlier, thinking of the way they’d made love to each other. She had seen the desire in his eyes and it wasn’t her imagination.

  Right now if she took one step she’d be up against his hard chest. If she pushed herself onto her toes, she could touch her lips to his.

  God, she wanted to kiss him, touch the hard muscles she’d once known so well.

  Job. Money. Contract. Baby. Glass walls.

  The words cut through her haze of lust and she remembered why she was here and what was at stake. Cady sucked in a breath, tossed her head back, lifted her chin and borrowed her mother’s you’re-on-the-path-to-hell look. “We’re going to go there, really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  Beckett slapped his hand on a switch panel and the glass walls turned opaque and Amy, and her curious face, disappeared.

  Cady had to smile. “Now that’s a cool trick.”

  “I think so.”

  Beckett stepped into her personal space and Cady’s folded arms brushed his rock-hard abdomen. Her heart bounced off her rib cage, and her stomach felt like it was taking a roller-coaster ride, but she’d be damned if she’d let Beck see how much his hot and hard body affected her.

  Beck smiled, lifted a hand and rested the tip of his index finger in the V of her throat. “Your pulse is trying to burst through your skin.”

  Damned pulse. Heart, stop beating, she ordered.

  Beck’s hot fingertip ran up the side of her throat until he reached her jaw. “God, your eyes. My memory didn’t do them justice. Silver and green all contained in a ring of emerald.”

  Cady swallowed and shook her head. “Don’t do this, Beckett.”

  “I think I have to,” he replied, the heat of his hand scalding her jaw. His other hand grasped her hip and he pulled her into him.

  Cady tried to keep her arms folded, she really did, so she had no idea how her hands ended up being splayed onto his chest. And why was she tipping her head up, watching his mouth as it slowly descended to hers?

  Beck’s lips were pure magic, Cady thought, as his mouth took possession of hers. She felt his hand cup her right butt cheek and pull her up into his hard body. She closed her eyes, not quite believing that he was holding her, that his mouth was on hers. It felt like it belonged there, as if she’d been created to be kissed by him. Beck kissed her like he owned her, like she was still his. He kissed her with unreserved passion, unafraid to show her how turned on he was. His mouth, lips, tongue...all hot, silky, sexy.

  Underneath the fabric of her trousers, Cady felt the heat of his fingers pushing into her skin and she wished that he would use his hands to do something interesting. Touching her breasts and swiping his thumb over her nipple sounded like a really good idea right then. But Beck did neither. He continued to kiss her, his tongue tangling with hers until she didn’t know where she started or he ended.

  The strident ring of her phone in the side pocket of her tote bag had Beck pulling away from her. He cocked his head and nodded at her bag. “Want to get that?”

  Cady couldn’t form any words so she just shook her head, her hands gripping his clothing to pull him back to her. She needed more kisses, more of him... It had been so damn long.

  “Just business, huh?”

  Beck’s sarcastic comment had her eyes flying open and she immediately noticed the sarcastic glint in his eyes, the muscle ticking in his jaw. Cady released her grip and took a decisive step back. “Was that a test?” she demanded, annoyed to hear the shake in her voice.

  “Sure. And we failed.” Under his shirt Beck’s biceps bunched as he folded his arms and widened his stance. He looked big and tough and intimidating, but Cady knew that he was as deeply affected by that kiss as she was. It was cold comfort.

  “I don’t mix business with pleasure, Cady,” Beck told her, his tone non-negotiable. “And I will do anything and everything to protect Ballantyne’s.”

  “I’m working with you and not against you, Beck,” Cady protested.

  “This rebranding strategy is the most important marketing project of the last twenty years and I do not want my business performance affected because we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

  “We’re adults, Beckett. If we decide to keep it professional, we can,” Cady told him.

  Pfft, her inner voice mocked. Just like you did with Tom? What a liar!

  “It always blows up and we’re pretty combustible as it is,” Beck stated.

  Cady released a frustrated sigh and at her sides, her hands pulled up into fists. Do not react, do not react. “It’s unlike you to put the cart before the horse, Beckett. Why don’t we see if I am awarded the contract first? I have some pretty strong competition.”

  Beck sent her a long, hard look. “I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars if you walk out that door and forget all about us, and Ballantyne’s.”

  Cady felt her knees buckle and she dropped down to sit on the edge of his visitor’s chair, unaware that she was sharing the space with her laptop bag. “Sorry... What?”

  “I’ll pay you twenty K for you not to take this contract.”

  That was what she thought he said. Cady lifted her head to look at Beck, conscious of a throbbing pain underneath her rib cage. Were those three months in Thailand such a bad memory that he couldn’t stand to be around her, couldn’t wrap his head around working with her? Okay, she hadn’t loved traveling, mostly because her parents had been so dead set against the notion. She’d been pulled in two directions by her parents and by Beck, but they’d had some fun. Hadn’t they?

  Cady didn’t understand any of this and her first impulse was to tell him to take his offer and stick it. She opened her mouth to blast him and then she remembered that this wasn’t just about her. She had a child on the way and if she refused his offer, and wasn’t awarded the contract, she’d be broke and soon homeless. If she took the money, she’d buy herself a hell of a lot of breathing room.

  First prize would be landing the contract, of course, then all her money hassles would be solved.

  “Well?”

  It was tempting to take the cash and run. She opened her mouth to agree, struggling to think past the feelings of inadequacy and confusion. But if she took his money she’d be dancing to someone else’s tune, to Beck’s little ditty. He’d be putting her on a metaphorical plane again and sending her away because once again she was inconvenient.

  She’d done that once and it took years for her to patch her heart back together, to regain her confidence.

  She’d be running away, taking the easy option.

  Have faith in yourself, Cady. If you don’t get this project, you’ll make another plan.

  B
eck no longer had the power to dictate her actions. She wasn’t a teenager anymore.

  Cady stood up, straightened her spine and sent him a death stare. “That’s not going to happen, Beckett. I either get the contract or I don’t. That’s business and that’s life. If I do get it, you’re just going to have to deal with whatever problem you still have with me. If I don’t, I will sort myself out. I’ve done okay on my own for a long time and I don’t need you or your money.”

  Cady picked up her laptop bag, slung it over her shoulder and grabbed the strap of her tote bag. “I think we’re done here.”

  Cady walked to the door and placed her hand on the doorknob. She looked at Beck, still standing at his desk, his eyes on her. “My pride and my self-respect are not for sale, Ballantyne.”

  * * *

  Cady left the door open behind her and because Beck didn’t want to see or speak to anyone for, oh, a hundred years, he hurried to the door and slammed it shut. He banged his head against the jamb, wishing he had a punching bag to plow his fist into.

  From the moment he met her, Cady had the ability to turn his life upside down and inside out. And when she was awarded this PR contract—and she would be, since her presentation and strategy were creative, innovative and interesting—he wouldn’t be able to avoid her.

  Damn. He liked his life as it was. Drama free.

  He also liked the fact that he was firmly in control of it. Since Connor was no longer here to hound him about being unemotional, to demand that he open up and communicate, he was able to stay on the fringes of the family group, present and supportive but not emotionally engaged.

  He loved his family, intensely, but he still felt that deep down his siblings blamed him for his parents’ deaths and if they didn’t, then they should.

  If he hadn’t begged them to return home...

  Feeling responsible and unable to rectify the problem, he’d realized that the only way to redeem himself was to show them that he was worthy of being a Ballantyne. At eight years old, under a table at the post-funeral reception, his drive and ambition were born.

  The only time he’d taken a break from feeling responsible, from feeling like he had to prove his worth, was when he was traveling with Cady. Despite her family issues, he’d relaxed around her, and the freedom to be himself was intoxicating. She didn’t care that he received his MBA when he was twenty, that he’d been a nationally ranked swimmer, that he was an heir to the Ballantyne fortune. To Cady, he was just Beck and he’d loved being just Beck.

  He acknowledged that was the real reason he sent her away. For years he’d justified his actions by reminding himself that she was miserable, but in truth, the longer he spent with her, the less important his ambition and drive became. What Cady thought or believed about him started to become more important than what he believed about himself, and he couldn’t have that.

  Years later their attraction burned hotter and brighter than before—just being in the same room as her set his nerve endings on fire—and Beck worried that, if she stuck around and if he spent any time with her at all, history would repeat itself.

  He had an obligation to his family, to Ballantyne’s, to help Linc steer this mammoth ship of a business in a global economy. Ballantyne International, and all its many subsidiaries, including the high-end jewelry stores that were the face of the business, were his top and only priority, and he had to guard against anything that threatened his duty to Ballantyne’s.

  Cady had, and if he wasn’t careful, she might again. He couldn’t take the chance.

  Beck lifted his head off the doorjamb and as he did so, the door flew open and smacked him in the forehead. He groaned and stepped back, placing his hand over his forehead.

  “Why the hell are you standing behind the door?” Linc asked, unsympathetic.

  “Crap! Why didn’t you knock?” Beck demanded, dropping his hand to check for blood.

  “Problems,” Linc said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

  “It’s been that type of day,” Beck said, walking back to his desk, conscious of his throbbing head. He dropped into his leather chair and placed his ankle on his opposite knee. “What’s up?”

  Linc paced the area in front of Beck’s desk. If there was one good thing to come out of his parents’ deaths, then it was Linc, and his mother, Jo. Unable to cope with three kids, Connor hired Jo as his housekeeper and nanny, and she and her son moved into the brownstone with the rest of them. A few years later, Connor formally adopted his nephews and niece, and also Linc, thereby legalizing their emotional bond. As he had been then, Linc was still the person they ran to when their wheels fell off.

  He was their brother, not by blood, but by choice.

  Linc placed his hands on Beck’s desk, his gray eyes worried. “So, Tate Harper just called me.”

  Now there was a name he hadn’t heard for a while. “Harper? Kari’s sister?”

  Linc nodded, anger flashing in his eyes. Beck didn’t blame him. When their son, Shaw, was six weeks old, Kari up and left Linc and their son. After another two months, Linc’s PI friend tracked her to Austin. Reame returned with a message from Kari telling Linc that she wasn’t coming back and a document signing over full custody of Shaw to Linc.

  Kari’s sister, a travel presenter, seemed as flaky as her sister.

  “What does she want?” Beck asked.

  “She has something urgent to discuss with me.” Linc shrugged. “No idea what but, knowing the Harper sisters, it can’t be anything good.”

  “Have you met her?”

  “No.”

  “If she’s anything like Kari then she’ll be very easy on the eyes,” Beck stated.

  “And, if she’s anything like her sister, as cracked as a sidewalk,” Linc said, looking and sounding tense. “We’re meeting in an hour, at the brownstone.”

  “It’s that important that it can’t wait until the end of the day?” Beck asked, surprised. Like him, Linc was rarely distracted from his work at Ballantyne’s.

  “So she says. Kari probably sent her to try to sweet-talk me into sending her some cash,” Linc said, sounding bitter.

  “Just say no, dude.” Beck dropped his foot and looked at the piles of paper on his desk. A quick glance at his monitor showed that he had a slew of emails he needed to look at. Taking a break was good for him, but the recuperative effects were quickly negated by the avalanche of work that hit his desk in his absence.

  Linc started to leave, then he turned back around to Beck. “We need to make a decision about the PR consultant.”

  Beckett tensed. He prayed they’d choose someone else, anyone else, just not Cady. Was he allowed, just this one time, to put his interests above those of Ballantyne’s?

  “The three of us want to hire Cady.”

  Of course they did.

  “Can you live with that? Jaeger says that you can, that whatever happened between you and Cady occurred a long time ago and that you’re adults now and not kids. Sage isn’t so sure.”

  Sage was a wise woman.

  What was he supposed to say? No, don’t hire her because she threatens my calm, controlled world? He’d rather bang a rock against his head than admit to that.

  “Sure, we’re adults. Anyway, I’m not going to deal with her, Carol is. She’s our in-house PR person.”

  Linc pulled a face and Beck’s stomach dipped and flipped.

  “Carol’s asked for a three-month sabbatical. Her father is terminally ill and she needs some time to be with him. I thought that, with a new PR person coming in, she could take that time.” Linc perched on the edge of Beck’s desk and tapped his finger against the frame of the photograph of Connor and his adopted kids. “I need you to work with Cady and be her go-to person within Ballantyne’s.”

  Oh, hell, no. “Ah, come on, Linc! Are you trying to torture me
?”

  Linc smiled. “Not deliberately, but torturing you is always a pleasure.” His face turned serious. “You understand best of all what we need in terms of this rebranding strategy because you have the type of brain that sees the big picture. You also know more of the family history than any of us. Besides, Jaeger is leaving for Thailand on a buying trip, and Sage is heading to Hong Kong for a jewelry show. And I have my own fires to put out.”

  Something in his brother’s voice caught his attention and Beck frowned. “Like?”

  Linc stood up and shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. “I’ve been hearing rumors about someone buying up massive blocks of Ballantyne International stock.”

  Beck rubbed the back of his neck. “It can’t be a hostile takeover. The four of us own controlling shares so we’ll never lose the company.”

  “Yeah, but why would someone want so many shares? I want to know who’s behind this and why.”

  “Don’t you think it makes better sense for me, as finance director, to do that and you deal with Cady?”

  Linc shook his head. “I have a better relationship with the shareholders than you do.”

  That was true. Beckett scowled at his brother. “Do I have a choice about working with Cady?”

  Linc grinned. “No.”

  Crap. There went his calm, controlled life.

  “Just try to keep your hands off her, Beck. Or, if you can’t, keep it tidy until you’re out of the office, dude.”

  Beck sent him a hard look. “You should know better than to accuse me of that.”

  Linc raised his eyebrows. “Then, I’m really interested—and not just a little worried—as to why you’ve decided to start wearing lipstick. And, FYI, that shade of pink isn’t your color.”

  Busted.

  Four

  Two weeks later, Cady checked her email for the final time that night and reluctantly tapped the red X to close the program. For the last two weeks she’d done market research and before she moved on to the next phase of the project, she needed to speak to Beck. His lack of response meant that she had the weekend free. The thought of not working over the weekend made her feel twitchy. At least when she was working she didn’t have time to think of him and remember that kiss.