turned her inside out with want.
He rested on his back, watching her with those clear blue eyes as he stroked a loose strand of her hair. “Damn, you’re a pretty woman.”
“Stop. You don’t mean it.” Why had she said that? It was as good as asking for another compliment and she’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t spend her life wrapped up in appearances as her beauty queen mother had.
His gaze held hers and refused to let go. “Don’t I?”
“Maybe you do in your own way. But you’re a flirt. Get your mind on business. How’s the bird?”
Though the movement made him wince, he straightened, sitting up. He had managed to protect the fragile bird during his fall. Easton held it proudly as it nestled into his hand. “Not a mark on him—not from the fall, anyway. We should get back to the clinic and figure out why he’s unable to fly.”
“I’ll drive. Unless you object, but you really shouldn’t,” she couldn’t stop herself from babbling, “since you did just fall from a tree.”
He shrugged, rising slowly to his feet. “Of course you can drive. Why would I have a problem with your driving?”
“Most men prefer to drive.” Her father always had, declaring her mother too airheaded to be trusted behind the wheel. Scrunching her nose at the memory, Portia stood, dusting off the leaves that clung to her pants.
“I’m not most men. And you’re right. I did just fall out of a tree.” He shed more small twigs as they made their way to the sanctuary’s four-door truck.
“Then it’s settled. I’ll take the wheel.” Driving the massive vehicle would allow her some element of control. And damn, did she need that in spades right now.
“You’re a better driver than I am anyway, even when I haven’t backflipped down a few limbs to land on my ass.”
“Okay, seriously, I can’t think of another man on the planet who would admit that.” As her head moved, a strand of her normally perfectly pulled-back hair caught on her eyelash. On instinct, her hand flew upward, folding it back into her ponytail. Back to order.
He grinned roguishly. “Then they must not have my confidence.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Or arrogance.”
“True.” He slid into the passenger side. “You asked for an appointment with me earlier and then the emergency call came in about the ivory-billed woodpecker. We’ll have some time to talk on the drive back. What did you wish to speak about?”
Telling him about her pregnancy like this? Not at all what she planned. Not at all what she would do. When she told him, it’d be in a calm setting. One of her choosing. Not in the company of a wild, injured animal. Or a wildly sexy, injured man. “This isn’t the time.”
“Why not? Is it that serious? If so, speak up now,” he said firmly, turning to face her. Those blue eyes demanding something of her.
“Let’s take care of business first.” Her lips thinned into a line. Pushing him away. Her mother had depended on a man for everything and then had nothing when that man died bankrupt in prison. Portia had vowed she wouldn’t let herself commit to anyone until she was certain she could stand on her two feet, debt free and independent. She wouldn’t let herself think about how much harder that would be as a single mother.
His eyes narrowed and she could practically see him running through a catalog of possible topics.
“It’s personal?” he asked.
“That’s not what I said.”
“About the night of the tropical storm six weeks ago—” A hungry smile pushed along his mouth.
Damn him for being so intuitive. He had a knack for that. All the more reason for her to be carefully guarded around him.
“Let’s not speak about that now.”
“You haven’t wanted to speak of it since the storm. When are we ever going to talk about it? You’re a determined woman, that’s for certain.”
She knew she couldn’t delay the conversation forever, but right now her stomach was still in turmoil over his fall. And she wanted to go to her first doctor’s appointment to confirm that the pregnancy was on track before turning her whole world upside down.
And yes, she was trying to think of any reason she could to delay, because once she told Easton about his baby, she would lose control of her life forever.
* * *
Dr. Easton Lourdes leaned his seat halfway back, his head still spinning. Partly from the fall, but mostly from the woman beside him and the memory of those moments he’d kept his eyes closed and just absorbed the feel of her against him. Since she’d come to work with him two years ago, he’d suspected there were fires burning behind her uptight demeanor. But hell, he’d had no idea how hot they’d blaze until that one night with her during the storm.
Portia Soto. The most organized secretary on the planet. The woman who—until recently—had kept his eccentric spirit in line. Until their night of passion during a tropical storm showed him just how wild she could be once she let down that tightly upswept hair.
But the next day, she’d gathered her long caramel-brown hair back as fiercely as ever. Tighter even.
He needed his secretary. The Lourdes Family Wildlife Refuge was fast becoming an internationally renowned animal research and rescue center, and he was the man in charge of the science. To make the impact he wanted to make on the world, he needed his secretary. But he wanted Portia. And he wasn’t sure how to have both.
If only he understood humans as well as he did animals. His childhood spent with rich, globe-trotting parents had exposed him to creatures around the world. He’d paid attention and taken in an understanding of animals’ unspoken language. But even though he’d had the best of everything money could buy, he’d lacked much in the way of learning how to make connections with people other than his parents and his older brother. No sooner than he’d make a friend, his family would pack up and jet off to another exotic locale.
Easton cracked his neck, a crescendo of echoing pops responded in his back, the tension finally unwinding. With his neck less contracted, he positioned himself so he could watch her. Portia’s gel manicured nails were still quite perfect as she gripped the pickup truck’s steering wheel at a “nine and three” position that would make any driver’s ed teacher proud. Her doe-brown eyes were focused, attentive to the road.
Intentional. That was how he’d describe Portia. Intentional and proper.
With all her wildness contained.
Despite her manicured look, she fit in well at the wildlife preserve his family owned and funded. Easton brought his world-renowned skills as a veterinarian/scientist specializing in exotic animals. His brother, Xander, ran the family business and fund-raising.
And there sure as hell was a lot of fund-raising and political maneuvering involved in saving animals. Portia’s calm organizational skills were an immeasurable asset on that front too, according to his brother, Xander. Easton only had to show up in a tux every few months and talk about the research he loved.
For
