wasn’t certain if it was his skillful questioning or the energy burst she’d received from eating her first proper meal in twenty-four hours, but she found herself becoming quite animated as she delved deeper into her vision for the company.
“We could be leaders in this area if we do it right,” she said passionately. “And with the correct systems set in place, we could take that platform to our clients, as well.”
“Do it,” Kirk said concisely.
“Do it?”
“Yeah. Draw up the proposal for me. I can already see how it would benefit us, but I’m not the only person you have to sell the idea to, right?”
This idea had been her baby from the outset, and she’d had a bit of pushback from a few of the senior managers when she’d floated it before. But getting the green light from Kirk was exciting, even if he was a low-down, deceitful piece of—
“I’ll get onto it as soon as I can,” she said. “I have most of the data assembled already.”
“I look forward to seeing it,” Kirk said. “Now, I think we’ve covered everything and it’s probably time we headed home. You have an early start tomorrow, right?”
And just like that she hit the ground again. Her dad’s surgery. How on earth could she have forgotten?
“Sally, don’t feel bad. It’s okay to escape now and then. Orson will come through this. You have to believe it.”
Tears pricked her eyes, and she dragged her napkin to her lips in an attempt to hide their sudden quivering. After everything the last day had delivered, his unexpected compassion was just about her undoing. She blinked fiercely and put the napkin back down again.
“Thank you,” she said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get a cab.”
“No, I’ll see you home. It’s the least I can do.”
She accepted his offer because she was absolutely too worn-out now to protest. She gave him her address and he smiled.
“Isn’t that just a few blocks from the office?”
“It is. I like the building and it’s close to Downtown Park when I need a blast of fresh air.”
When they arrived at her apartment building, he rode the elevator with her to her floor.
“I’ll be okay from here,” she said as the elevator doors swooshed open.
“Let me see you to your door. It’s what your guy—Benton?” he asked and waited for her nod before continuing “—would do, isn’t it?”
She shrugged and walked down the hallway, hyperconscious of his presence beside her. Her hand shook as she attempted to put the key in the lock, and she almost groaned out loud at the clichéd moment when she dropped her keys and Kirk bent to retrieve them for her.
“Here, let me,” he said.
Kirk suffered no such issues with his coordination, and he handed the keys back to her the moment the door was open. She looked up at him, all too aware of his strong presence beside her. Even though weariness tugged at every muscle in her body, she still felt that latent buzz of consciousness triggered by his nearness—and with it the tension that coiled tighter inside her with every moment they stood together. Suddenly all she could think about was the scent of him, the heat of his body, the sounds he’d made as she’d explored the expanse of his skin with her fingertips, her lips, her tongue.
She made a small sound and tried to cover it with a cough.
“You okay?” Kirk asked.
“I’m fine, thank you. And thanks for dinner, too.”
“No problem.”
Silence stretched out between them, and it seemed inevitable when Kirk lifted a hand to gently caress her face. The moment his fingers touched her skin, she was suffused with fire. No, she told herself frantically. She wasn’t going down that road again. Not with him. She pulled back, and Kirk’s hand fell to his side.
“Good night,” she said as firmly as she could and stepped through the doorway.
“Good night, Sally. Sweet dreams.”
She closed the door and leaned back against it, trying to will her racing heart back under control. One more second and she’d have asked him to stay. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, but it was no use. The image of him remained burned on her retinas.
Sally opened her eyes and went to her bathroom, stripping off her suit and throwing it in a hamper ready to send to the dry cleaner. She took a short, hot shower, wrapped herself up in her robe and went to her bedroom. Perched on her bed, she opened her handbag, pulling out the blister pack of contraceptives she carried everywhere with her.
She studied the pack, then flipped it over to check the days. Her chest tightened with anxiety the moment she realized that somewhere along the line she’d gotten out of sync. Probably around the time a couple of weeks ago when she’d traveled to the small European kingdom of Sylvain for the christening of the baby of her best friend from college. With the time zone changes and the busyness of travel and jet lag and then getting back to work, she’d slipped up. Normally, it wouldn’t have been a problem—it wasn’t as if she was wildly sexually active. But it certainly was a problem now.
She couldn’t be pregnant. She simply couldn’t. The chances were so slim as to be nearly nonexistent, weren’t they? But the evidence of her inconsistency stared straight at her from the palm of her hand.
Sweet dreams, he’d said. How could she dream sweet dreams when every moment had just become a waking nightmare?
* * *
It had been four weeks since her father’s surgery, and despite a minor post-op infection in a graft site on his leg, everything had gone well. He was home now, with a team of nurses stationed around the clock to ensure his convalescence continued to go smoothly. Sally bore his daily grumbles with good humor—especially when, as each bland meal at home was served to him, he called her to complain about the lack of salt and other condiments he’d grown used to.
She was too relieved he was still alive and getting well again to begrudge him his complaints. He still had a way to go with his recovery, despite how well he was doing, but it was ironic that each day he seemed to have more energy, while each day she had less.
She chalked it up to the hours she was working. After all, what with juggling expanding the proposal for sustainable strategies she’d discussed with Kirk the night before her father’s operation and daily visits to her father on top of her usual duties here at the office, it was no wonder she was feeling more tired than usual.
She was no longer worried about the broken condom or the mix-up with her Pill. She knew people who’d tried for years to get pregnant. The odds of her having conceived after just that one encounter with Kirk...? No, she wasn’t even going to think about that again. For her own peace of mind, a couple of weeks ago she’d taken a home test and it had showed negative—to her overwhelming relief. She was just tired. That was all. Things would settle down after the presentation, she told herself.
It had become vital to her to make her
