want me working for you. You said you don’t want a PA. But it’s clear you need one. So obviously there’s a reason you’re fighting having someone work for you.”
He sighed.
“Fine. Don’t tell me. Because I don’t care. What I do care about is earning my keep. And just from the glance I got at your mail, it was clear that I could at least answer your fan letters. I minored in accounting, so I could also keep track of your money. Anything else in your office, in your life, in your world, I wouldn’t care about.”
He sighed again. “You are a pregnant woman who needs a rest. Just take the time here with me to have some fun.”
She raised her chin. “No. If you won’t let me work, I won’t take your charity. Not even your offer of Constanzo’s penthouse. I’m going home.”
“You don’t have a home to go back to.”
“I’ll think of something.”
“If I tell Constanzo you’re pregnant and refusing a few weeks of rest, he won’t let you use his plane.”
“Then I’ll fly commercial.”
He raised his hands in defeat and slapped them down again. “You can’t afford that.”
“I know. But I’ll be fine.”
“No. You won’t!”
“Then let me stay here for two weeks as your assistant. If you don’t like what I do or still feel you don’t need someone at the end of two weeks, I’ll take another two weeks to rest and then go home.”
He stalled, as if unaccustomed to someone compromising. His brow furrowed. His expression and demeanor were so different than five minutes ago that confusion billowed through her. When they’d first begun arguing, before he’d known she was pregnant, his eyes had been sharp. Glowing. She could have sworn he wanted to kiss her.
Her eyes narrowed again. He might have been seductive Antonio, but he hadn’t made a move to kiss her. It was as if he had been daring her to step closer—
Had he been daring her to step closer?
He might have been. But to what end? She’d been close enough to kiss, yet he hadn’t kissed her.
She swallowed just as he said, “Really? If I let you work for me for two weeks then you’ll spend another two weeks resting and not arguing about going home?”
“Yes, I’ll get out of your hair if you let me work for two weeks and rest for two more. But that’s if you still want me to go home.” Her voice shook a bit as she considered that he might have actually been attracted to her. If she hadn’t told him about being pregnant...he might have kissed her. Just the thought almost made her swoon.
Telling herself it was foolishness to deal in what ifs, she said, “But who knows? You might—” she swallowed again “—like me.”
Her heart thrummed as their gazes met. He didn’t seem to get the double meaning.
He broke their connection and stepped back. “Constanzo can help you find a job in New York.”
She smiled sadly. Before he’d discovered she was pregnant he might have found her attractive, but he didn’t now. Though something in her heart pinched, it was okay. It had to be okay. She had bigger worries than disappointment over being wanted one minute and discarded the next. After all, why would a man who’d been married to a supermodel want a pregnant commoner?
She took a step back too. “I’d have to make a ton of money to be able to live in New York on my own, especially with the added expense of a baby. If I couldn’t make it as a single woman, it’s pretty far-fetched to think I could make it as a single mom. At the wedding, I thought about finding new roommates, but I now realize it might be impossible to find two women who want to share the small amount of space we could afford with an infant. I think, in the end, I’m going to have to go back to Kentucky. Live with my parents until the baby is born and then hope I can find a job.”
* * *
The sadness in her voice sat on Antonio’s shoulders like a cold, wet coat. Two minutes ago, she’d been so fiery he’d wanted to kiss her. But suddenly she’d become meek, docile.
Not that he wasn’t glad. Now that he knew she was pregnant, everything inside him had frozen with a new kind of fear. The last thing he needed in his life was someone who would remind him of the child he had lost. He might be able to keep her in his home for the four weeks of rest she needed, four weeks before her pregnancy showed...but he couldn’t handle watching another man’s baby grow when he knew his own child had been cast aside.
She pointed behind her to the door. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go to the kitchen to make a sandwich.”
“I’ll show you—”
She waved a hand to stop him. “I’m fine. I really do need some time by myself.”
She turned and walked out of the room, and he fell to the tall-backed chair behind the desk and rubbed his hands down his face. The man who loved peace and quiet now had a constantly hungry pregnant woman in his home. Pregnant. As in with child. Here was a single woman with no money who was willing to beg and sacrifice to figure out what to do with her life so she could keep her child—and his wealthy wife, who could have hired all the help in the world, had aborted his baby.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He had to get her out of his house before her pregnancy showed, before the constant reminder drove him insane with sadness and anger.
But he wouldn’t do it at the expense of her feelings. She’d left his office believing she’d done something wrong, when she had done nothing wrong. His jumbled emotions had caused him to react poorly.
He should apologize tonight, before she went to bed, so she didn’t take the weight of this job loss on her shoulders like one more mistake.
He bounced out of his chair and headed for the kitchen, but when he got there it was empty. And clean. Not even a bread crumb on a countertop.
Regret tightened his stomach. He hoped to God he hadn’t upset her so much she’d decided not to eat. Thinking that she might have gone outside for some fresh air before making her snack, he waited in the kitchen for twenty minutes. But she never came in.
Irritation with himself poured through him. Of course he’d upset her by telling her she couldn’t stay. She was pregnant and sensitive. Right now she was probably taking responsibility for everything that happened to her.
Knowing he had to apologize and make her see it wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t keep her, he headed upstairs to her room. The strip of light below the white door to her bedroom indicated she was inside, and he knocked once.
“Laura Beth?”
There was no answer, but the light told him she was still awake, probably reading the science fiction novel she’d had on the plane.
He knocked again. “Laura Beth?”
This time when she didn’t answer, he sighed heavily. She might want her privacy, but he didn’t want a sleepless night, angry with
