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His dark eyes were compelling. She remembered gazing into them when they were making love. Her pulse pounded. She sipped her drink again, trying to break the spell.
“I’m curious about your transfer to Brussels,” he said. “You’ve been at head office since you started. Why move so far away? Your family’s in California. You must have lots of friends here.”
“Yes to both. But this is something I’ve wanted for years. I’ve studied French in anticipation of this opportunity. Every vacation lately has been to Europe, several weeks spent in the Brussel’s office—learning all I can about the people I’ll be dealing with and the ways of doing business. It’s going to be a huge challenge. But one that I can handle.”
Great, she sounded like she was interviewing for the position. Mr. Deerfield had told her it was a done deal.
Yet things could change. She best not forget she was talking to the new CEO of the company, who had the power to grant or deny this move.
“From what I’ve learned this week, you’re a good choice. Thomas speaks highly of your ideas. I liked the report you gave me. It shows a depth that surprised me from someone dealing with things from San Francisco instead of on site.”
She nodded, delighted in his comments.
“I’ll miss you,” Trace said unexpectedly.
She looked at him in surprise. “I’ll call every so often,” she said. “And keep you fully apprised.”
“You, Cath. Not the director. I enjoyed our dates.”
“I did, too. But we both know you were wise to call a halt. How awkward if would be if we were still seeing each other.”
She still remembered how his muscles felt beneath her fingertips. Not the memories she should have of her CEO. She could almost feel the exquisite pleasure his mouth had brought.
She looked away before she made an idiot of herself. It might prove awkward, but she missed him. She’d drawn closer to Trace in the short weeks they’d dated than any other man since Jason.
“I need to get going. Thanks for the drink.” She picked up the cup to take with her and reached for the book bag. It snagged on the corner of the bench and scattered the contents on the ground.
Trace rose quickly and reached down to pick them up. He paused as he read the titles.
Cath froze. She couldn’t move. Each word seemed to jump off the covers. Could she bluff her way through? Say the books were for a friend?
He looked at her, his expression ferocious.
“What the hell is this?”
Chapter Four
“Books for a friend?” she tried, staring at the damning titles, not meeting his eyes.
She had to look as guilty as sin.
“Books bought to while away the hours, you said. Nothing about being for a friend. These are books about babies and—are you pregnant?”
She reached for the books, tugging them from his resisting fingers. Stuffing them back in the bag, she scooped up her drink and turned.
“Answer my question.”
His voice sounded like a low growl.
“If I am, is it any business of yours?”
She tried bravado. She refused to be intimidated.
“If the baby’s mine, it is. And you weren’t seeing anyone but me recently. There was no flu, you have morning sickness.”
“I thought I had the flu.”
“You told me you couldnotget pregnant. What are you trying to pull? Force a marriage? It won’t work, babe, I’m not getting caught in that trap again. If that’s your plan, forget it.”
