wide array of drinks they kept to offer to guests during meetings. Designer water, pop, some kind of cold coffee drink. But no juice. “Get me the cranberry juice,” he said, gathering up the lunch bags left inside the refrigerator. “And see if we have any cookies. She wants a cookie.”
Ryan turned and hurried back to Jennifer, lunch bags clutched in his hands. There had to be something decent to eat in them. By the time he got back to his office, some of the color had returned to her face. He sat down beside her on the edge of the sofa and dropped the bags around his feet. Pressing his palm to her forehead, he scanned her features. “Are you feeling better? You don’t feel warm. It could be heat exhaustion. It’s been very hot lately.”
Jennifer opened her eyes and smiled. “I’ll be fine.”
He let his palm linger for a long moment, delighting in the silken feel of her skin beneath his fingertips, soft strands of hair brushing the back of his hand.
“I don’t have a fever,” Jennifer murmured. “I’m pregnant.”
Ryan snatched his hand away, startled by her sudden confession. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Had he heard her right? Had she just told him she was pregnant? “You’re…”
“Pregnant,” she repeated, glancing at his hand, which still hung in mid-air. “I don’t have the plague. I’m going to have a baby. And it’s not contagious.”
He coughed softly to cover his embarrassment. “I—I’m sorry. It’s just that…well, you don’t look pregnant.” In truth, he felt a little guilty for his fantasies, considering her condition. It was like lusting after a nun!
She stared down at her stomach with a morose expression. “I am. Nearly five months.” Pushing up on her elbow, she stared at him. “I haven’t told many people. It’s hard to say the words.”
“And—and your husband? How does he feel about this?”
Jennifer giggled. “And here I thought you were so smooth,” she teased.
“I’ve got a pregnant woman swooning in my office,” Ryan retorted. “And no juice to be had. Give me a break.”
“I don’t have a husband.” She ran her hand over her stomach, a barely noticeable swell the only evidence of her admission. “I don’t even have a boyfriend. The father, he doesn’t want anything to do with me or the baby, and I think that’s for the best.”
Connie appeared at the door with a can of cranberry juice and an orange soda. He pushed to his feet and grabbed the drinks, then returned to Jennifer’s side. “Here,” he said, offering her the juice. “Try this.”
She took a long sip, watching him over the rim of the can. “I’m really sorry,” she said, licking her lips. “I shouldn’t have come. This is my life, my problem, and I’m going to have to deal with it on my own. I shouldn’t have brought you into it.”
“You got a little dizzy in my office,” Ryan said. “That’s all.”
“That’s not all,” she said, a contrite expression suffusing her face. “I came here to ask a favor—a favor I probably have no right to ask.”
“Ask,” he said. “What do you need? Money? A place to stay? Some things for the baby? Whatever I can do.”
“I need a fiancé,” she said. “I need you.”
This time Ryan was taken completely off guard. His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. “What?”
“My parents don’t know yet,” she said, the words tumbling out. “And I think it would be easier for them to accept if they thought I hadn’t been completely stupid. I need a fiancé, someone I can take home and introduce as the father of my baby. It won’t be a long-term job. After a few months, we’ll have a fight and then you’ll just disappear from my life. Please don’t feel any obligation. Like I said, this is my responsibility and I’m going to—”
“I’ll do it,” Ryan said softly.
“—have to deal with this sooner or later. It’s just that I come from a very strict Catholic family, and when Diego and Carmen find out they’ll—”
“I said, I’ll do it,” Ryan repeated.
The rest of her words froze in her throat and she blinked, as if she weren’t certain she’d heard him right. A slow smile curled the corners of her mouth. “You will? You’ll pretend to be my fiancé?”
“Yes,” he replied.
With a squeal of delight, Jennifer threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “¡Gracias! ¡Muchísimas gracias! Le estoy muy agradecida.”
Ryan drew back and looked down into her eyes, which were sparkling with excitement and relief. “Con mucho gusto,” he said. “You’re welcome.” Without thinking, he took her face between his palms and dropped a gentle kiss on her mouth. As soon as their lips met, he realized his mistake. But the urge to kiss her had been too much to deny and he couldn’t regret his actions.
Slowly, he pulled back, prepared to see indignation, perhaps even anger in her eyes. But her wide gaze showed only surprise—and a tiny hint of curiosity. Ryan was tempted to kiss her again, to see if she’d respond. After all, they were engaged, weren’t they? But his better judgment won out. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to—”
“No,” Jennifer interrupted, placing a finger on his lips. “It’s my fault. My family always tells me I’m too impetuous. I shouldn’t have kissed you first. I have to learn to think before I act.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “After all, that’s what got me into this trouble in the first place.”
“But that’s what attracted me to you in the first place,” Ryan teased in a feeble attempt to lighten the moment. “Your passion and fire. The way you jump into a situation without even considering the consequences. I’m usually so careful and conservative. It’s our differences that made me fall in love with you.”
“In love?”
He grinned and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “I’m just practicing. Do I sound convincing?”
“Practicing for what?”
“For when I meet your parents,” he said, turning to pick up one of the lunch bags. He plucked out a sandwich bag filled with Oreos and handed her one. “I’m sure they’re going to wonder how we met. We should have a story worked out.”
Jennifer frowned. “I never thought that far ahead. I guess I didn’t expect you to agree to my plan.”
“See, you are too impetuous. Now, when is this meeting going to take place?”
“I’m supposed to go home to El Paso on Friday afternoon. This Saturday is my sister’s quinceañera. Her fifteenth birthday. It’s a big deal in our culture, kind of like your sweet sixteen and a debutante ball rolled into one. There’s a mass Saturday afternoon and a huge party with dancing and food on Saturday night. All the family will be there, my aunts and uncles and cousins. I figure my parents will be so distracted with the party plans, they won’t have time to focus on my news.”
“So when do
