be more at an ideal healthy age to have a baby. I can financially support one. And yes, I want him...or her. I just haven’t had time to do all the thinking or planning about how I’m going to cope with things yet.”
“Okay.” Mitch released a pent-up sigh, as if he really hadn’t been sure how she was going to answer that question. “But you’re going to be trying to juggle a pregnancy and work. And then a new baby and work.”
“I know that—”
“And I’m in this picture, Nik. Not just because I want to be a father—and an active, involved father. But because I know your business. There’s no one else who’s in an equally good position to help you through this. I can deal with work decisions when you can’t. I can make it possible for you to juggle your personal schedule any way you need it juggled.”
She fell silent. Those things were undeniably true. She hadn’t thought about Mitch in a role as father, or his rights as a dad—or how to make any of that work. She also hadn’t meant to be so insensitive as to only be thinking of herself and the baby as only her problem.
“I’m also concerned about the side ways this could affect your work and the business. Like you said, a woman could choose to have a kid on her own today. But that’s in theory, and life’s never quite so nice as theory. There’s bound to be buzz about your getting knocked up, getting involved with a guy who wouldn’t step up. So maybe most people would be okay with it. But you’ve got some conservative clients. And you’ve worked hard to build a respectable, responsible reputation.”
“I hear you. But I’m not afraid of taking any heat—”
“Nik, I’m sure you’re not. And I never did give a damn what people thought. But I’m a saying a ring on your finger would make sure those problems never happened.”
She shoved a hand through her hair. This was exactly how Mitch was at work. When the team started arguing—and creative people were notorious for getting their egos confused with their opinions—Mitch rarely raised his voice, just quietly, firmly, kept spilling out practical, sensible angles on a problem. A woman could actually start believing that a marriage between strangers made sense—when she knew perfectly well it didn’t
“And a ring on your finger would give the baby a name. People don’t label a kid ‘bastard’ any more, thank God, but I still think a name matters. I can’t believe your parents and family wouldn’t have something to say about your having a baby out of wedlock—at least if being married were a choice.”
She swallowed. Hard. Mitch couldn’t know he was ripping the scab off some real old scars with that comment. For years now, she’d been trying to rebuild a relationship with her parents. The estrangement had been caused by her irresponsible teenage behavior entirely—and in their shoes, Nicole wouldn’t have been any quicker to forgive. But she’d hoped that time would prove to them that she’d changed, and those hurts would eventually heal if she persisted in living a decent, respectable life. To announce an unwed pregnancy could well close those doors all over again. Because it was exactly the kind of disappointment in character and morals they were surely expecting from her.
Still. Trying to correct a wrong by doing something disastrously more wrong was never a solution. “Every problem you’re pointing out is very real, but I just can’t believe you mean it. We can’t possibly get married, Landers! Come on, it’s just crazy. We don’t even know each other!”
“You’ve known me for months.”
“That’s not the same kind of knowing! For Pete’s sake, we can’t even get through a staff meeting without bickering and friction most of the time.”
“It never occurred to you that there might be an interesting reason we always caused so much friction together?”
She halted in her tracks. “What are you trying to say? That sexual chemistry caused that friction?”
“Yeah, I do. Now. Originally I just thought we had a little personality clash...but the night of the Christmas party damn well forced me to notice there was evidence in another direction entirely. I think we had liquid oxygen between us all along. We just didn’t know it until someone lit a match.”
Well, the damn man flustered her all over again. She couldn’t deny what she couldn’t remember. “Chemistry or no chemistry...you just can’t be serious, Mitch. Knights don’t charge in to rescue ladies in trouble any more. I’m not in trouble. Neither are you. Not only do neither of us have to get married, but in a thousand years I can’t imagine your wanting to get hooked up with me.”
“No?”
“No,” she sputtered. “Of course not. I mean, look at us. Your office looks like a marine bivouac, sports stuff and guy-type messes all over the place. I’m a neatnik, an order lover. You think I don’t know the whole staff thinks I’m prissy? A pain-in-the-behind stickler for the rules? You couldn’t possibly want to be married to me. We’d drive each other crazy in half a day—assuming we lasted that long.”
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