on the intercom to tell her that if Ryan Warner appeared, she was not available to see him. Then she closed her eyes.
What a mess she’d made of the morning! And exactly what she’d hoped to avoid had happened. Ryan knew the truth.
He’d been shocked, and obviously didn’t want any part of it—that much was a relief to her, even though at the same time, it angered her. She knew she shouldn’t feel conflicted about his reaction, but she did.
She rubbed her throbbing forehead and longed to undo the morning. Wished she had been wise enough last night to refuse to eat breakfast with him today.
When her intercom buzzed, she groaned. She didn’t feel like dealing with anyone yet. She pushed the button to speak to Carlotta.
“Ryan Warner is on his way to your office. I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop him.”
“That’s all right,” Ashley said, knowing her receptionist couldn’t have kept out a determined male like him.
Before she could answer his knock, he strode into her office, closing the door behind him.
“I don’t want to see you, but I don’t suppose that matters to you,” she said.
“No, it doesn’t. You weren’t going to tell me about my baby.” He flung the accusation at her in a low, steely tone.
“Yes, I was, but not until after the baby is born, because I don’t want your interference.”
“How about my help?”
“I don’t want that, either,” she said.
He crossed the room and sat in the chair he’d placed beside hers earlier, gazing intently at her. “Why the hell not?” he asked. A muscle worked in his jaw.
“You’ll take charge of my life. I want to take care of myself,” she stated in a haughty voice, and raised her chin.
“It seems to me you sure as hell could use some financial help. You should welcome it.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“And it seems to me you should let your family know.”
“I’ll tell them soon. Other than the doctor, you’re the first to hear about it. Look, your immediate reaction was an honest one—you tore out of here in shock and didn’t want any part of this. Don’t try to include yourself now out of a sense of guilt.”
“I left in shock and because you kept asking me to go. I’m not suffering any guilt,” he insisted.
“Oh, please,” she said, giving him a skeptical look. She was annoyed with him, certain he must be steeped in guilt, to return as he had with an offer of help. His tie was awry, his hair tangled on his forehead and he looked as if he had been wrestling with something difficult. She waved her hand. “Go on, Ryan. I’ll keep you posted.”
“No,” he said. “I can easily help out, and this is my baby, too. I can provide a nanny, and you’ll have to have a nursery.”
“See, this is exactly why I didn’t want you involved!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “You’re making my decisions.” She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t feel well. Why don’t you leave me alone this morning and we’ll talk later. I need some peace and quiet.”
Looking frustrated, he stood with clenched fists. “I’ll see you tonight. I’ll bring steaks and come to your place. We need to talk about this.”
“Whether I want to or not,” she said.
“Damn straight! This is a life-changing event and I’m involved in it whether you like it or not. You can’t say no to me when it’s my baby.” He strode out of the office and slammed the door behind him.
She ran to yank open the door. “Then eat before you come. I won’t feel like eating, anyway!”
He turned around and with long steps came back. “You need to eat dinner.”
“I know that,” she replied in exasperation. “I’ll eat before you come. You do the same.”
He nodded. “See you around seven.” He hurried out the front and she returned to her office, closing her door and going to sit behind her desk.
She stared into space and wished she had done far more to get him out of her life and keep him from discovering the truth. Now there was no getting rid of him. Ryan was in her life to stay, probably until their baby was grown. Their baby. It shocked her to think about her baby in that way, because after discovering her pregnancy, she had closed Ryan out of any connection to the baby until this morning.
An hour later she felt better. She spent the day trying to keep from worrying about Ryan. She left work early to get ready to see him. He was coming over at seven, and she suspected the night would be one of continual clashes.
After eating a small dinner of a poached egg and toast, she bathed and dressed with care. In spite of all her worries and anger with him, excitement bubbled in her at the thought of seeing Ryan.
As she dried her hair, her intercom buzzed. A florist wanted to get through the gate to deliver flowers. When she went to the door, a driver climbed out of a panel truck and came up the walk with a crystal vase containing a huge bouquet of daises and yellow tulips. She took the arrangement and carried it inside, where she set it on a table and paused to read the card.
“To the mother of my baby,” was scrawled there. “Can’t wait to see you.” It was signed with Ryan’s bold signature.
She shook her head, reminded that he wasn’t going away. She looked again at the card. The mother of my baby…
She placed the card carefully into the bouquet and carried it into her living area, placing it on the coffee table where he would see it. Then she finished dressing.
She let her long, straight blond hair fall freely over her shoulders. Wearing pale yellow slacks and a yellow-and-white cotton shirt and sandals, she gazed at her reflection, turning to look at her flat stomach.
Promptly at seven she heard his car. With a sigh, she braced herself to deal with him.
When she opened the door, the sight of him worked its unfailing magic. In a navy short-sleeved knit shirt and chinos, Ryan looked refreshed and his usual cheerful self.
“Come in. Would you like something to drink? Beer, water, wine, pop?” she asked as he entered.
“Cold beer would be good,” he said, closing the door. “What are you having?”
“Ice water,” she answered.
“I’ll help,” he said, walking beside her. “I know where things are now.” Like everything else he had been doing since learning about the pregnancy, his actions caused her both chagrin and amusement, because he took charge as if it were his kitchen. As soon as he handed her the glass of water and got his beer, they went into the family room and she motioned toward the flowers. “These are lovely.”
“Not nearly as gorgeous as the recipient,” he responded, setting down his beer and
