TAKEOVER
LAST CHANCE FOR BABY
SHE’S HAVING MY BABY!
KANE HALEY, INC.
CHICAGO, IL
Contents
Prologue
Sperm bank?
Oh, God.
Kane Haley rubbed his two forefingers against his aching temples and wondered for the ten-thousandth time which woman in the company was carrying his child.
He’d never expected this complication. The only reason he’d “deposited” sperm in the first place was to help out a friend, and now it was a disaster. Kane had already expended a fair amount of anger toward the Lakeside Reproductive Clinic for their mistake, but a flicker of irritation rose again at the memory.
We’re sorry, Mr. Haley, but we must protect the woman’s privacy.
Privacy.
What about his privacy? His rights? They’d made him a father with their high-tech medical procedure, and he didn’t even know who the mother might be. He had a lawyer working on the issue, but in the meantime, it was driving him crazy, wondering.
Sitting back, Kane thought about the various women working for Kane Haley, Inc…women of childbearing age.
Okay, he knew it wasn’t Sharon Waterton, one of the company’s accounting assistants. At least, it seemed unlikely considering the way she and his client, Jack Waterton, had hooked up. Other names flitted through his head, such as Jennifer Holder, but the timing of her pregnancy was wrong.
And it was still a toss up whether Lauren Mitchell was even pregnant. A reluctant grin creased Kane’s mouth as he thought of the chase she’d led Rafe Mitchell on. His Vice President of Mergers and Acquisitions had found it was a lot more trouble acquiring a wife than anything he’d worked on for Kane Haley, Inc.
So, if it wasn’t Sharon or Jennifer or Lauren, who was the mother of his baby?
Groaning, Kane opened the top drawer of his desk and retrieved a bottle of aspirin. He swallowed two and headed for the door of his office. He’d never realized there were so many pregnant women in the world.
And how many of them worked for his company.
Chapter One
Outside Kane’s office…
“Are you available this afternoon?”
“For what?” Twenty-seven-year-old Julia Parker smiled at Maggie Steward, administrative assistant to the company’s president.
“The new Chief Financial Officer is arriving today. His name is Raoul Oman. You met him at that D.C. conference last June, remember? Kane will be tied up in a meeting and he asked if you would show Mr. Oman around.”
Raoul Oman.
Julia stared, the blood draining from her face.
Oh, yes, she’d met Sheik Raoul Oman. The man was permanently engraved in her memory. Instinctively, her hand went to her stomach. The morning sickness she’d suffered from for her entire pregnancy threatened to go out of control, and she took several deep breaths, trying to calm her queasy tummy and racing heart.
Maggie’s eyes were compassionate. “I guess you do remember him.”
“Y-yes.” Julia swallowed and shook her head to clear it. She’d never expected to see Raoul again, and the shock was a bit more than she could absorb—not to mention the embarrassment and a healthy dose of guilt.
“You aren’t having trouble with the…uh…?” Maggie’s gaze flicked to Julia’s rounded stomach, then back to her face. The question didn’t need to be finished. The baby was seriously underweight, and so far she’d been able to camouflage her tummy with heavy sweaters, despite being almost seven months along. Most of her co-workers didn’t even realize she was pregnant, or else they’d just been polite and not said anything.
“I’m fine,” Julia assured quickly.
It was a lie, but she could hardly explain. She gulped again when she saw Kane Haley staring at her from the door of his office. He’d been acting strangely for the past few months, though as president of his Chicago-based company he could act any way he darned well pleased.
“Uh…I’ll be happy to show Mr. Oman around,” she told Maggie, snatching her hand away from her stomach. She fled to her own office on the 16th floor and sat for several shattered minutes, trying to decide what to do.
Her family plans were getting ready to fly apart, and there was nothing she could do to fix them.
The phone on Julia’s desk buzzed, and she gratefully pushed her lunch aside—milk and a package of crackers—and picked up the receiver. “Yes?”
“This is Trudy, in reception. I was told to notify you when Mr. Oman arrived.”
Swell.
“Thank you. I’ll be right down.”
“I’ll tell him, Ms. Parker.” Trudy sounded star-struck, which wasn’t surprising. One look at Sheik Raoul Oman and she must have melted in her chair. The man had sex appeal that could bring the dead back to life.
Julia
