“Ultimately this is about what’s best for our son.”

To hear Nathan refer to Max as “our son” made Ana’s heart twist. For a long time he had been just “her son”. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to give that up, to share him. But this wasn’t about what she wanted. The only thing that mattered was what was best for Max.

“I guess a trial period would make sense,” she told him. “Supervised visits of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

It meant having to spend time with Nathan, which she was sure would be heart-wrenching for her. Just having him in her home, remembering all the times they had spent there together, made her feel hollowed out inside. Alone. Since they split, she hadn’t so much as looked at another man.

If a year and a half apart hadn’t dissolved her feelings for Nathan, maybe she was destined to love him forever.

Dear Reader,

I must confess, I have a really hard time writing these letters. I can’t help feeling a bit like a broken record. I find myself, over and over, going on about my characters, and how special they are. How unique and inspiring. But this time I thought I would try something different. I thought it might be fun to tell you about the character writing the characters.

Me.

So here goes. I’m a little shy when I’m in a group of people I don’t know. I cannot function without my morning coffee—at least two cups. I hate to blog because I never know what to say. I am married to, hands down, the best husband ever. My children are the most talented and most brilliant in human history and ditto for my grandchildren. I used to love to sew and craft, but now I only have time to crochet. I am also an avid gardener when I can find the time. I am the youngest of three, and when my two older brothers weren’t torturing me, they spoiled me rotten. I love animals, spring and poker night. I can not play an instrument, or sing my way out of a paper bag, and my family always, always comes first.

So there you have it. Now, forget about me, and enjoy the book!

Best,

Michelle

About the Author

Bestselling author MICHELLE CELMER lives in southeastern Michigan with her husband, their three children, two dogs and two cats. When she’s not writing or busy being a mum, you can find her in the garden or curled up with a romance novel. And if you twist her arm really hard, you can usually persuade her into a day of power shopping.

Michelle loves to hear from readers. Visit her website, www.michellecelmer.com, or write to her at PO Box 300, Clawson, MI 48017, USA.

A Clandestine

Corporate Affair

Michelle Celmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Jim, for being the best big brother a pesky younger sister could ask for.

One

Oh, this was not good.

Ana Birch glanced casually over her shoulder to the upper level of the country club deck, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man in the dark leather jacket, praying that she had been mistaken, that her eyes had been playing tricks on her. Maybe it just looked like him. For months after he dumped her she would see his features in every stranger’s face. The dark, bedroom eyes and the sensual curve of his lips. She would see his broad shoulders and lean physique in men she passed on the street. Her breath would catch and her heart would beat faster … then sink miserably when she realized it was only someone who looked like him. In the eighteen months since he’d ended their affair, he hadn’t so much as called her.

She finally caught sight of him standing by the bar, drink in hand, talking with one of the other guests. Her heart bottomed out, then climbed back up into her throat and lodged there. This was no illusion. It was definitely him.

Oh, God. How could Beth do this to her?

Hitching her nine-month-old son, Max, higher on her hip, she crossed the pristine, rolling green lawn, her heels sinking into the soft, spongy sod. Note to self: never wear spiked heels to an outdoor kids’ party. Or a silk jacket, she added with annoyance, as Max wiggled and slid south again down her side.

In her skinny jeans and knee-high boots, with her freshly dyed, siren-red hair, she was the antithesis of the society mothers who drank and socialized while harried nannies chased their children. A fact that clearly escaped no one as curious glances followed in her wake. But no one dared insult the heiress to the Birch Energy empire, at least not to her face, which Ana found both a relief and an annoyance.

She spotted her cousin Beth standing by the gigantic, inflatable, plastic-ball-filled, germ-breeding monstrosity, watching her six-year-old daughter, Piper, the birthday girl, screaming and flailing inside with a dozen other children.

She loved Beth like a sister, but this time she had gone too far.

Beth saw them approaching and smiled. She didn’t even have the decency to look guilty for what she had done, which didn’t surprise Ana in the least. Beth’s own life was so abysmally uneventful and boring, she seemed to take pleasure meddling in other people’s business. But there was more at stake here than harmless gossip.

“Maxie!” Beth said holding out her arms. Max screeched excitedly and lunged for her, and Ana handed him over. Beth probably figured that Ana couldn’t physically assault her while she was holding a baby.

“Why is he here?” Ana demanded under her breath.

“Who?” Beth asked, playing the innocent card, when she knew damned well who.

“Nathan.”

Ana shot a look over her shoulder at Nathan Everette, chief brand officer of Western Oil, standing by the railing, drink in hand, looking as conservatively handsome and casually sophisticated as he had the day Beth had introduced them. He hadn’t been Ana’s type, as in: he had a successful career, and he didn’t have tattoos or a police record. But he was a bigwig at Western Oil, so having a drink with him had been the ultimate “screw you” to her father. Then one drink became two, then three, and when he asked to drive her home she’d thought, what the heck, he’s pretty harmless.

So much for that brilliant theory. When he kissed her at the door she’d practically burst into flames. Despite what she led people to believe, she wasn’t the precocious sex kitten described in the social pages. She was very selective about who she slept with, and it was never on a first date, but she had practically dragged him inside. And though he might have looked conservative and even came off as a bit stuffy, the man definitely knew how to please a woman. Suddenly sex had taken on an entirely new meaning for her. Then it was no longer about defying her father. She just plain wanted Nathan.

Though it was only supposed to be one night, he kept calling and she found herself helpless to resist him. She was head over heels in love with him by the time he dumped her. Not to mention pregnant.

Nathan glanced her way and their eyes met and locked, and she found herself trapped in their piercing gaze. A cold chill raised the hair on her arms and the back of her neck. One that had nothing to do with the brisk December wind. Then her heart started to beat faster as that familiar awareness crept through her and heat climbed from her throat to the crest of her cheeks.

She tore her eyes away.

“He was Leo’s college roommate,” Beth said, tickling Max under the chin. “I couldn’t not invite him. It would have been rude.”

“You could have at least warned me.”

“If I had, would you have come?”

“Of course not!” She’d spent the better part of the past eighteen months avoiding him. Having him this close to Max was a risk she simply could not take. Beth knew how she felt about this.

Beth’s delicate brow pinched, and she lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “Maybe I thought it was time you stopped hiding from him. The truth is bound to come out. Don’t you think it’s better now than later? Don’t you think he has a right to know?”

As far as Ana was concerned, he could never know the truth. Besides, he’d made his feelings more than clear. Though he cared for her, he wasn’t in the market for a committed relationship. He didn’t have time. And even if he did, it wouldn’t be with the daughter of a direct competitor. That would be the end of his career.

Wasn’t that the story of her life. For her father, Walter Birch, owner of Birch Energy, reputation and appearances had always meant far more to him than his daughter’s happiness. If he knew she’d had an affair with the CBO of Western Oil, and that man was the father of his grandson, he would see it as the ultimate betrayal. He had considered it a disgrace that she’d had a child out of wedlock, and he’d been so furious when she wouldn’t reveal the father’s name that he cut off all communication until Max was almost two months old. If it wasn’t for the trust her mother had left her, she and Max would have been on the streets.

For years she had played by her father’s rules. She’d done everything he asked of her, playing the role of his perfect little princess, hoping she could win his praise. She dressed in clothes he deemed proper and maintained a grade point average that would make most parents glow with pride, but not her father. Nothing she ever did was good enough, so when being a good girl got her nowhere, she became a bad girl instead. The negative reaction was better than no reaction at all. For a while, at least, but she’d grown weary of that game, too. The day she found out she was pregnant she knew for her baby’s sake it was time to grow up. And despite his illegitimacy, Max had become the apple of his grandfather’s eye. He was already making plans for Max to one day take over Birch Energy. If her father knew Nathan was Max’s daddy, out of spite he would disown them both. How could she in good conscience deny her son his legacy?

That was, in part, why it was best for everyone if Nathan never knew the truth.

“I just want you to be happy,” Beth said, handing Max, who had begun to fuss, back to her.

“I’m going to take Max home,” Ana said, hoisting him up on her hip. She didn’t think Nathan would approach her, not after all this time. Since their split he had never once tried to contact her. Not a phone call or an email, or even a lousy text. He’d gone cold turkey on her.

But running into him by accident wasn’t a chance she was willing to take. Not that she thought he would want anything to do with his son. “I’ll call you later,” she told Beth.

She was about to turn when she heard the deep and unmistakeable rumble of Nathan’s voice from behind her. “Hello, ladies.”

Her pulse stalled then picked up triple time.

Damn it. Ana froze, her back to him, unsure of what to do. Should she run? Turn and face him? What if he looked at Max and just knew? But would running be too suspicious?

“Well, hello, Nathan,” Beth said, air-kissing his cheek, giving Ana’s arm a not-so-gentle tug. “I’m so glad you could make it. You remember my cousin, Ana Birch?”

Ana swallowed hard as she turned, tugging Max’s woolen cap down to cover the small blond patch behind his left ear in his otherwise thick, dark hair. Hair just like his father. He also had the same dent in his left cheek when he smiled, the same soulful, liquid brown eyes.

“Hello, Nathan,” she said, swallowing back her fear and guilt. He didn’t want you, she reminded herself. And he wouldn’t have wanted the baby. You did the right thing. He had to have heard about her pregnancy. It had been the topic of El Paso high society gossip for months. The fact that he’d never once questioned whether or not he was the father told her everything she’d needed to know.

He didn’t want to know.

He looked exactly the same, not that she’d expected him to change much in a year and a half. And Nathan’s cool assessment of her, the lack of affection and tenderness in his gaze, said she had been nothing more to him than a temporary distraction. A passing phase.

She wished she could say the same, but she missed him as much now, ached to feel that soul-deep connection that she’d never experienced with any other man, the feelings of love that had snuck up on her and dug in deep, and seemed to multiply tenfold every time he showed up at her door. Every fiber of her being screamed that he was the one, and she would have sacrificed anything to be with him. Her inheritance, her father’s love—not that she believed for one second that Walter Birch loved anyone other than himself.

There wasn’t a day that passed when she looked into her son’s sweet face and didn’t feel the sting of Nathan’s rejection like a dagger through her heart. And now, the compulsion to throw herself in his arms and beg him to love her was nearly overwhelming.

Pathetic, that was what she was.

“How have you been?” he asked in a tone that was, at best, politely conversational, and he did little more than glance at her son. Hadn’t he expressed quite emphatically that at this point in his career he didn’t have time for a wife and kids? But she hadn’t listened. She had been so sure that she was different, that he could love her. Right up until the moment he walked out the door.

She adopted the same polite tone, even though her insides were twisting with a grief that after all this time still cut her to the core. “Very well, and yourself?”

“Busy.”

She didn’t doubt that. The explosion at Western Oil had been big news. There had been pages of negative press and unfavorable television spots—courtesy of her father, of course. As chief brand officer, it was Nathan’s responsibility to reinvent Western Oil’s image.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Beth said. “I have to see a man about a cake.” Beth shot her a brief, commiserative smile before she scurried off, bailing on Ana when she needed her most.

She hoped Nathan would walk away too. Instead, he chose that moment to acknowledge her son, who was wiggling restlessly, eager for attention.

“This is your son?” he asked.

She nodded. “This is Max.”

The hint of a smile softened his expression. “He’s cute. He has your eyes.”

Attention hound that he was, Max squealed and flailed his arms. Nathan reached out to take his tiny fist in his hand and Ana’s knees went weak. Father and son, making contact for the first time … and hopefully the last. Sudden tears burned the corners of her eyes, and a sense of loss so sharp sliced through every one of her defenses. She needed to get out of here before she did something stupid, like blurt out the truth and turn a bad situation into a catastrophe.

She clutched Max closer to her, which he did not appreciate. He shrieked and squirmed, flailing his chubby little arms, knocking his wool cap off his head.

Damn it!

Before she could reach for it, Nathan crouched down and grabbed it from the grass. She cupped her hand around Max’s head, hoping to cover his birthmark, but when Nathan handed her the hat, she had no choice but to let go. She angled her body so he wouldn’t see the side of Max’s head, but as she reached out to take the cap, Max shrieked and lunged for Nathan. He slipped against her silk jacket and she nearly lost her grip on him. Nathan’s arms shot out to catch him just as she regained her grip and, heart hammering, she hugged Max to her chest.

“Strong little guy,” Nathan said.

“He’s high-spirited,” she said, realizing too late that Max’s left ear was in plain view. Please don’t let him notice. She swiftly swung Max around and deposited him on the opposite hip. “Well, it was nice to see you again Nathan, but I was just leaving.”

Without waiting for a reply she turned to walk away, but before she could take more than a step, Nathan’s hand clamped down hard around her forearm. She felt it like a jolt of electricity.

“Ana?”

She cursed silently and turned to face him, and the second she saw his eyes she could tell that he knew. He had figured it out.

Damn, damn, damn.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t deny it. But not telling him and outright lying were two very different things. Besides, the birthmark was going to be tough to explain.

Oh, well, so what if he knew? He’d been quite firm that he didn’t want children. He probably wouldn’t even care if the baby was his, as long as she agreed never to tell anyone and never asked for his support. And why would she? Her trust fund kept her and Max living quite comfortably. Nathan could just go on with his life and pretend it never happened.

Nathan reached up and gently cupped her son’s face, turning his head so he could see behind his ear. Thinking it was a game, Max batted at his hand and wiggled in her arms.

She’d heard of people going ghostly white but had never actually witnessed it until just then. He definitely knew, and he clearly wasn’t expecting this. Hadn’t even considered it being a remote possibility.

“A private word?” he asked, jaw tense, teeth gritted.

“Where?” They were at a party with at least two hundred other people, most of whom knew she and Nathan wouldn’t have a lot to talk about. Where could they possibly go without drawing attention to themselves? “You wouldn’t want to be seen with the daughter of a direct competitor,” she snapped in a voice filled with so much pent-up resentment she barely recognized it as her own. “What would people think?”

Nathan’s jaw tensed. “Just tell me this,” he said under his breath. “Is he mine?”

Oh, boy. How many times had she imagined this moment? What she would say if ever faced with this situation. She had rehearsed the conversation a thousand times, but now that the moment was here her mind was totally blank.

“Answer me,” he demanded, sounding far too much like her father.

Did you really sneak a bottle of my good scotch into the school dance? Answer me, Ana Marie Birch!

She had no choice but to tell Nathan the truth, but all she could manage was a stiff nod.

Nathan cursed, anger flashing in his eyes, holding her arm so tight he was cutting off the blood flow to her fingers. In all the time she’d been with him, she’d never seen him so much as raise his voice. His outrage was probably just a knee-jerk reaction. He was upset because she hadn’t told him, but would ultimately be relieved when she assured him he had no responsibilities in regard to her son. Financial or parental. He might even thank her for being so reasonable and honoring his wishes. Then he would leave, and hopefully she would never have to see him again.

Of course there was another possibility. One she’d found too disturbing to consider until now. Or maybe she’d just refused to let herself go there. What if he wanted to be a part of Max’s life? What if he wanted visitation and a say in the decisions? What if he tried to take Max away from her?

The thought made her clutch her son closer to her chest, which of course made him wiggle in protest. For nine months he had been her entire life. The only person who truly loved and needed her. She refused to let anyone, especially a man like Nathan, who didn’t have time for a girlfriend much less a son, take that away from her.

“Should I assume,” Nathan asked through gritted teeth, “that you never intended to tell me?”

“To be honest,” she said, lifting her chin with a defiance that was meant to hide the fact that inside she was terrified, “I didn’t think you would care.”

Two

He had a son.

Nathan could hardly wrap his mind around the concept. And Ana was wrong. He did care. Probably too much. The instant he saw her talking to Beth his heart slammed the wall of his chest so hard it stole his breath, and when their eyes met he’d experienced such a bone-deep need to be close to her, he was down the stairs and striding in her direction before he could consider the repercussions of his actions.

After he ended their affair, he must have picked up the phone a dozen times that first week, ready to tell her that he’d made a mistake, that he wanted her back, even though it would have been the end of his career at Western Oil. But he had worked too damned hard to get where he was to throw it all away for a relationship that was doomed from the start to fail. So he had done the only thing he could. He’d gotten over her … or so he thought. Now he wasn’t so sure.

She tried to jerk her arm from his grasp and her grimace said he was hurting her. Damn it. He released his grip and clamped a vice down on his temper. He worked damned hard to maintain control at all times. What was it about her that made him abandon all good sense?

“We need to talk,” he said in a harsh whisper. “Now.”

“This is hardly the place,” she said.

She was right. If they disappeared together people were bound to notice. And talk.

“Okay, this is what we’re going to do,” he said. “You’re going to say goodbye to Beth, get in your car and drive home. A few minutes after that I’m going to slip out. I’ll meet you at your condo.”

Her chin rose a notch. “And if I say no?”

She was trying to be tough, trying to play the spoiled heiress card, but he knew better. He knew that deep down the defiant confidence she flaunted like some badge of honor was nothing more than a smokescreen to hide the fact that she was as vulnerable and insecure as the next woman.

“Not advisable,” he said. “Besides, you owe me the courtesy of an explanation.”

Even she couldn’t deny that, and after a brief pause she said, “Fine.”

What else could she say? She may have been stubborn and, yes, a little spoiled, but she was an intelligent woman. She walked away, clutching her son—their son—unsteady on the grass in her ridiculously high-heeled boots. Hooker boots, his brother Jordan would have called them. Not the typical attire for an heiress, and even less appropriate for a mother, but she never had been one to play by the rules, which was what had drawn Nathan to her in the first place. Her confidence and her spunk had been an incredible turn-on, especially when he was used to dating “proper” women. The kind who would keep him grounded, who wouldn’t tempt him from within the safe place he’d carved out for himself and back into the dark side. But she hadn’t been nearly as wicked as she wanted people to believe. In fact, she’d coaxed him farther out into the light than any other woman had managed.

Nathan spotted Beth and headed in her direction. He didn’t doubt for a second that she knew the baby was his. And the look on her face as he approached said she knew that he knew. “She swore us to secrecy,” Beth said before he could get a word out.

“You should have told me.”

She snorted. “Like you didn’t already know.”

“How could I have?”

“Come on, Nathan. You break up with a woman and a month later she turns up pregnant, and you’re telling me you didn’t even suspect it was yours?”

Of course he had. He kept waiting for a call from Ana. He trusted that if the child was his she would have the decency to tell him. When he didn’t hear from her he just assumed the baby was another man’s, which he’d taken to mean that she’d wasted no time moving on. Which he couldn’t deny stung like hell.

Turned out there really hadn’t been anyone else—at least, not that he knew of. That wasn’t much of a consolation at this point.

“It was wrong of her to keep it from me,” he told Beth.

“Yes, it was. But—and she would kill me if she knew I was telling you this—you broke her heart, Nathan. She was devastated when you ended the relationship. So, please, cut her a little slack.”

That was no excuse to keep his child from him. “I have to go. Give the birthday girl a kiss for me.”

Beth’s brow cinched with worry. “Go easy on her, Nathan. You have no idea what she’s been through the past year and a half. The pregnancy, the birth … she did everything on her own.”

“That was her choice. At least she had one.” Feeling angry and betrayed by people he trusted, Nathan turned and headed toward the parking lot. Although, honestly, what had he expected? He and Leo had drifted since their college days, and Beth was Ana’s cousin. Had he really expected her to break the confidence of a family bond for a casual acquaintance? If that were the case, should Nathan have felt compelled in college to tell Beth how many times he had come back to the frat house to find her husband Leo, then her steady boyfriend, in his room with another girl?

Besides, he thought, as he slipped behind the wheel of his Porsche, maybe he had suspected the baby was his and deep down didn’t want to know the truth. Maybe that’s why he never called her, never confirmed for his own peace of mind. Maybe the truth scared the hell out of him. What would he do if it was his kid? What would he tell Adam Blair, his boss and CEO of Western Oil? He was having a child who just happened to be the grandson of the owner of the company’s leading competitor. That would have been a disaster then, but now, since the explosion at the refinery, and the suspicion that Birch Energy might somehow be involved, it was a whole new ball game. Not only could he kiss goodbye any chance at the soon-to-be-open CEO position, he would probably lose the job he already had.

Besides, what the hell did he know about being a father, other than the fact that he didn’t want to be anything like his own father? But the margin for error was still astronomical.

He’d been to Ana’s condo in Raven Hill so many times he drove there on autopilot. When he pulled into the driveway, a white luxury SUV was already parked there. She must have traded in her sports car for something more practical. Because that was what responsible parents did. And despite everything, he didn’t doubt for a second that Ana would be a good mother. She used to talk about losing her own mother and how her father ignored her. She said that when she had children they would be the center of her universe.

Nathan and his brother Jordan had the opposite problem. Their father had been on their backs, cramming his principles down their throats and bullying them into doing things his way since they were old enough to have free will. Which Nathan hadn’t hesitated to exercise in full force, butting heads with the old man on a daily basis. Giving back as good as his father gave, until he’d pushed so far in the opposite direction, was so crippled by rage and indignation, he had lost a part of himself in the process.

He parked beside the SUV, let go of the steering wheel and flexed his fingers. He’d been gripping it so hard his arms ached. He needed to relax. Yes, he was pissed, but going in there half-cocked was only going to make a bad situation worse.

He took a deep, calming breath, got out, and walked to the porch. Ana was standing in the open doorway waiting for him, as she had been countless times before. They couldn’t be seen in public together, so they’d spent most of their time together here. Only this time as she let him in and closed the door, she didn’t slide her arms around his neck and pull him to her for a long, slow kiss. The kind that made the stress of the day roll off his shoulders, until nothing mattered but being with her. He wondered what she would do if he drew her against him and pressed his lips to hers.

She would probably deck him, and he would deserve it. But it was almost worth the risk. Despite the time that had passed, he wanted her as much now as the first day he met her. As much as the day he walked out the door. Cutting all ties, ending things before they both got in too deep, had been the kindest thing he could do for her. For either of them. And he’d be smart to remember that.

Ana had shed the silk jacket and boots, and in form-fitting jeans, a peasant blouse and bare feet, she looked more like a college student than someone’s mother. As always, she was a total contrast to the conservative chinos and button-up shirt that was his standard uniform. His disguise, to hide the real man lurking underneath the spit and polish. He’d never admitted to anyone, not even Ana, how damned hard it could be to keep him contained.

He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the coat tree by the door. “Where’s the baby?”

“He’s in bed.”

“I want to see him.” He started for the hall that led to the bedrooms, but she stepped in his way.

“Maybe later.”

Anger sparked, then ignited, hot and intense, and had his blood pumping through his veins. “Are you saying you refuse to let me see my own son?”

“He’s asleep. Besides, I think it’s best if we talk first.”

He had half a mind to demand to see him, to push his way past her. Hadn’t she kept him from the kid long enough? But she was standing there, arms crossed, wearing a mama-bear look that said it would be in his best interest not to screw with her or her child. When it came to their son, she clearly didn’t mess around.

He clamped a vice down on his anger and said, “Okay, let’s talk.”

She gestured across the spacious living room to the couch. “Have a seat.”

Her home had always had a relaxed feel, and despite the service that cleaned weekly there had always been clutter. But now, with toys strewn everywhere, it was like walking through a minefield to get to the couch. As he sat he had a vivid memory of the two of them sitting there together naked, her straddling him, head thrown back, eyes closed, riding him until they were both blind with ecstasy. The memory had his blood pumping through his veins again.

“Something to drink?” she asked.

How about a cold shower instead? “No thanks.”

She sat cross-legged in the overstuffed chair across from him.

Since he saw no reason not to get right to the point, he asked, “So you thought it was okay to have my child and not tell me?”

“When you heard that I was pregnant, you could have asked,” she said.

“I shouldn’t have had to.”

She shrugged, as if she saw nothing wrong with her actions. “Like I said, I didn’t think you would care. In fact, I thought you would probably be happier not knowing. You made it pretty clear that you didn’t want a family. If I had told you, what would you have done? Would you have risked your career to claim him?”

He honestly didn’t know, which he couldn’t argue legitimized her point. But this wasn’t just about how it would affect his career. There were other factors to consider, things she didn’t know about him. Still, he would have liked the opportunity to make that decision himself. “Either way it was my choice to make, not yours.”

“If you didn’t have time for me, how could you have time for a child?”

It wasn’t just about not having time. She might not have understood it, she probably never would, but he did her a favor when he ended their affair. She made him drop his guard, lose control, and with a man like him that could only spell trouble. He just wasn’t relationship material. Not the kind of relationship she needed anyway. The kind she deserved. She was too passionate and full of life. Too … sweet. She didn’t need him dragging her down.

“What you really mean is,” he said, “I hurt you, and this was your way to hurt me back?”

“That isn’t what I said.”

No, but he could see that he’d hit a nerve.

“This is getting us nowhere,” she said. “If you want to talk about Max, fine. But if you came here to point fingers, you might as well leave.”

He leaned forward. “You could at least have the decency, the courage, to admit you may have made a mistake.”

“I did what I thought was best for my baby. For everyone.” She paused, then added grudgingly, “But I won’t deny that I was hurt and confused and maybe not considering everyone’s feelings.”

Nathan figured that was about as close to an admission of guilt, or an apology, as he was going to get. And she was right: pointing fingers would get them nowhere. Neither would flying off the handle. The only way to discuss this was calmly and rationally. And considering her tendency to leap to the defensive, he was going to have to be the sensible one. In short, he considered how his father would handle the situation, then did the exact opposite.

He swallowed his bitterness, and a fairly large chunk of his pride, and said, “Let’s forget about placing blame, or who wronged who, and why don’t you tell me about my son.”

“First, why don’t you tell me what you plan to do now that you know about him,” Ana said. There would be no point in him learning about a son he had no intention of seeing. Although he did seem to want to handle this in a civilized manner, and she was grateful. Though she could take whatever he could dish out and then some, it was always more fun not to be verbally drawn and quartered.

“To be honest, I’m not sure what I plan to do,” he said. “I’m still trying to process this.”

“You’re worried about how it will affect your career?”

“Of course that’s a concern.”

“It shouldn’t be. He’s your son. You should love and accept him unconditionally. If you can’t do that, there’s no room in his life for you.”

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t. He’s my responsibility and I know what’s best for him. And unless you’re willing to claim him as your child, and carve out a permanent place in your life for him—and that includes regular visitation that is convenient for me—you can forget seeing him at all. He needs stability, not a sometimes father who yo-yos in and out of his life on a whim.”

An uncharacteristic show of anger hardened his expression. “I imagine you’ll be expecting child support as well,” he said, jaw tense.

He just didn’t get it. He thought she was being obtuse, but this wasn’t about the money, or a need to manipulate him. This was all about Max and what he needed. “Keep your money. We don’t need it.”

“He’s my child and my financial responsibility.”

“You can’t buy your way into his life, Nathan. He’s not for sale. If you can’t be there for him emotionally, for the long haul, you’re out of the game. That’s nonnegotiable.”

She could see he wasn’t thrilled with her direct approach, or her list of demands, but that was too damned bad. Parenting was tough, and either he was in or he was out. He couldn’t do it halfway.

“I guess I have a lot to think about,” Nathan said.

“I imagine you do.” She rose from the chair, prompting him to do the same. “When you’ve made a decision, then you can see Max.”

He pulled himself to his feet, looking irritated, and maybe a little shell-shocked. The enormity of what she was asking from him was not lost on her. Being responsible for another human being, knowing she would shape Max into the adult he would one day become, was terrifying and emotionally exhausting … and the most rewarding thing she had ever done or even imagined doing.

Until Nathan understood that and accepted it, he wouldn’t get within fifty feet of Max.

“I need some time to think about this,” Nathan said.

“I understand. And I want you to know that whatever you decide is okay with me. I would love for Max to know his father, but I don’t want you to feel pressured into something you’re not ready for. I can do this on my own.”

He walked to the door and shrugged into his jacket, glancing down the hall to the bedrooms. For a second she thought he might ask to see him again, but he didn’t. “Can I call you?” he asked.

“My number hasn’t changed.” He would know that if he had bothered to contact her in the past eighteen months.

He paused at the door, hand on the knob, and turned back to her. “I am sorry for the way things worked out between us.”

But not sorry enough to want her back in his life, she thought as he walked to his car.

She didn’t doubt it was going to be a very long night for Nathan. Maybe even a long week, depending on how long it took him to make up his mind. He was not the kind of man to act on impulse. He thought things through carefully before making a decision of any kind. He once told her that their affair was the only spontaneous thing he’d done in his adult life. It had been a thrill to know that she’d had that kind of power over someone like him. Too bad she couldn’t make him love her, too.

She watched out the front window until Nathan drove away, then she stepped outside and walked across the lawn to the unit next door, rubbing her arms against the cool air seeping through her sheer top. She knocked, and almost immediately Jenny Sorenson, her neighbor and good friend, opened the door, looking worried.

“Hey, is everything okay?” she asked, ushering Ana inside. Max was sitting on the living room floor with Portia, Jenny’s fifteen-month-old daughter. Ana hadn’t been sure how Nathan would react, so she’d felt it was wisest to keep Max out of the picture.

“Everything is fine. I’m sorry to dump Max on you like that without an explanation, but I didn’t have a lot of time.”

When Max heard her voice he squealed and crawled in her direction, but then he got distracted by the toy Portia was banging against the coffee table and changed course. Max was an independent kid, and unless he was wet, hungry or hurt, toys took precedence over Mom any day.

“You looked really upset when you dropped him off. I was worried.”

“I ran into Max’s dad today. He may or may not be back in the picture. He wanted to talk, and I felt it would be best if Max wasn’t there.” She hadn’t told Jenny the details of the situation with Nathan. In fact, up until the time Ana had Max, she and Jenny, a conservative and soft-spoken doctor’s wife, had barely said hello. Then one afternoon when Max was a few weeks old and suffering a pretty nasty case of colic, Jenny heard his screams through the open window and stopped by to offer her help. Like Ana, she’d also made the choice to raise her baby without the help of a nanny or an au pair, and she’d been a godsend. She taught Ana a few tricks she’d learned with her own colicky baby, and they had been friends ever since. Still, Ana was selective about what she did and didn’t tell her.

“How do you feel about that?” Jenny asked her.

“Conflicted. I’d love for Max to know his father, but at the same time I feel as though I’m setting him up to be let down. If he’s even half as bad as my father—”

“It’s only fair to give him a chance,” Jenny said firmly, glancing at her daughter, who was in a tug-of-war with Max over a stuffed bear. “A baby needs its father.”

Even though Portia barely ever saw hers. Brice Sorenson, a busy surgeon, was often out of the house before the baby woke, and home after she was tucked in bed. If they were lucky, they might see him for a few hours Sunday between hospital rounds and golf. Though Jenny hadn’t come right out and said it, it sounded as though even when he was home, he wasn’t really there. He was older than Jenny, and had grown children from a first marriage. He didn’t change diapers or clean up messes, and he’d never once taken a midnight feeding. The scenario struck a familiar and troubling chord for Ana. One she refused to accept for Max.

“The ball is in his court now,” Ana told Jenny. And if Nathan wanted any less than what was best for Max, she would cut him out of his son’s life without batting an eyelash.

Three

Though Nathan hated that Ana’s words made so much sense, after several days of considering his son’s well-being, he knew she was right. Either he was in or he was out of Max’s life. There was no doing it halfway. But he had to consider how claiming his son could impact his career. He was sure that if the truth came out he could kiss his chances at the CEO spot goodbye. The board would see it as a direct and flagrant conflict of interest. Since they learned that the explosion at the refinery was the result of someone tampering with the equipment, people had been quick to point the finger at Birch Energy—even though as of yet they hadn’t been able to prove any sort of connection.

But even more important, how would his being in the kid’s life influence Max? Nathan had no idea what it took to be a father—at least, not a good one. The only thing he knew for sure was that he didn’t want to be anything like his own father: accepting nothing but perfection, verbally, and sometimes physically, lashing out if anyone dared fall short of his unrealistic expectations.

Nathan was too much like his old man, too filled with suppressed anger to ignore the possibility that he would be a terrible father. Yet he couldn’t just forget that there was a child out there whom he’d brought into this world, who shared half of his genetic code. He had to at least try. And if he couldn’t be there for Max, even though Ana said they didn’t need his money, Nathan would see that Max was taken care of financially for the rest of his life.

He called Ana Wednesday afternoon and asked if he could come by to talk.

“How about eight-thirty tonight? After Max goes to bed.”

“You still won’t let me see him?”

“Not until I’ve heard what you have to say.”

Fair enough. “I’ll see you at eight-thirty then.”

“See you then.”

He hung up just as Emilio, the company CFO, knocked on his office door.

Nathan gestured him in, thinking that this visit had something to do with the new marketing budget his department had submitted Monday morning. If Western Oil was going to rebuild their reputation with the public, it was going to cost them.

Instead, Emilio said, “Sorry to interrupt,” and handed him a small white envelope. “I just wanted to drop this off.”

“What is it?”

“An invitation.”

“For …?”

“My wedding.”

Nathan laughed, thinking that either he’d misheard or it had to be a joke. “Your what?”

A grin kicked up the corner of Emilio’s mouth. “You heard me.”

Nathan knew no one more vehemently against marriage than Emilio. What the hell had happened?

Curiosity getting the best of him, he tore the envelope open and pulled out the invitation, his mouth dropping open when he recognized the bride’s name. “This wouldn’t be the Isabelle Winthrop who was indicted for financial fraud?”

“Apparently you haven’t been watching the news. All charges against her were dropped last Friday.”

That explained it. He’d worked late Friday then went to the party Saturday, and since then pretty much all he’d thought about was Ana and his son. He couldn’t recall turning on the television or even picking up a newspaper. “And now you’re marrying her?”

“Yep.”

Nathan shook his head. “Didn’t her husband die just a few months ago?”

“It’s a long story,” Emilio said.

I’ll bet it is, he thought. One he was surprised he hadn’t heard about before now. But like himself, Emilio was a very private person. And Nathan couldn’t be happier that he’d found someone he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. “One I can’t wait to hear,” he said.

Emilio grinned. “By the way, I looked over your proposal. I’d like to set up a meeting with Adam to go over the numbers. Probably early next week.”

“Have your secretary call my secretary.”

Nathan spent the rest of the afternoon in meetings, during the last of which they ordered in dinner, which saved him the trouble of having to go out or pick up carryout to eat at home before he changed out of his suit and left for Ana’s place. He arrived at eight-thirty on the nose. Sometime since Saturday she had decorated the front of her condo for the coming holiday. Lighted balsam and fir swags framed the door and windows, and she’d hung a wreath decorated with Christmas bulbs and fresh holly on the front door. Nathan hadn’t hung a single decoration in his high-rise apartment downtown. He didn’t even own any. Why decorate for the holidays when he was never there? If he decorated anywhere, logically it should be his office, since that was where he spent the majority of his time.

Before he could knock on the door it swung open.

“Right on time,” Ana said. She was dressed in hot pink sweatpants and a matching hoodie over a faded T-shirt stained with something orange that may or may not have been mashed-up carrots. Her fiery red hair was pulled haphazardly back with a clip, and she didn’t have any makeup on. Yet she still managed to look sexy as hell.

Motherhood looked damned good on her.

She stepped aside to let him in. “Excuse the mess, but I just got Max settled, and I haven’t had time to straighten up yet.”

She wasn’t kidding. It looked as if a bomb had gone off in the living room. He had no idea one kid could play with so many toys.

“It looks like there were a dozen kids here,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it on the coat tree.

“Five, actually. It’s playdate day, and it was my week to host.”

“Playdate?”

“You know, a bunch of parents get together with their kids and let them play together. Although me and my next-door neighbor, Jenny, are the only actual parents. Two others are nannies, and one is a French au pair. Jenny and I are both pretty sure the au pair is sleeping with the baby’s father. And one of the nannies told us that the couple she works for is on the verge of divorce, and he sleeps in the spare bedroom now.”

He had no idea playdates could be so scandalous.

“Isn’t Max a little young to be playing with other kids?” he asked.

“It’s never too early to start socializing children.”

Proving that he knew absolutely nothing about parenting. “You don’t have a nanny?”

“I love being with Max, and I’m in a position where I don’t have to work now. I like being a stay-at-home mom. Not that it’s been easy, but well worth it.”

His mother had been too busy with her charities and her various groups to take much time for her sons.

Ana gestured into the living room. “Come on in and have a seat. Would you like something to drink?”

He could probably use one. Or five. But no amount of alcohol was going to make this easier. “No thanks.”

She waited until he sat on the couch, then took a seat on the edge of the chair. “So, you’ve made a decision?”

“I have.” He propped his elbows on his knees, rubbing his palms together. Ana watched him expectantly. He wasn’t sure how she was going to like this. She was probably expecting a definitive answer, but he wasn’t ready to give her that. Not yet. “I’d like to have a trial period.”

Her brows rose. “A trial period? This is not a gym membership we’re talking about, Nathan. He’s a baby. A human being.”

“Which is exactly why I think jumping into this would be a bad idea. I know nothing about being a parent. As you pointed out, I never planned to have a family. For all I know I might be a lousy father. I’d like the opportunity to try it out for a few weeks, spend some time with Max and see how he takes to me.”

“Max is nine months old. He loves everyone.”

“Okay then, I want to see how I take to him.”

“And if you don’t … take to him? What then?”

“I’ll honor your wishes and remove myself from Max’s life completely.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know …”

“I know you were hoping for a more definitive answer, but I honestly think this is the best way to do this. And it’s not a decision I came to lightly. I just …” He sighed, shook his head. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Ana, and this is too important to screw up.”

“I’m assuming there’s also the question of how this will go over at work.”

“I won’t deny that was a factor in my decision. Our current CEO is leaving, and I’m one of the select few who are competing for the position. I don’t want to rock the boat.”

“So it is about work,” she said, not bothering to hide the bitterness in her voice.

“I have to consider everything,” he said. “But ultimately this is about what’s best for our son.”

To hear Nathan refer to Max as “our son” made Ana’s heart twist. For a long time he was just “her son.” She wasn’t sure if she was ready to give that up, to share him. But this wasn’t about what she wanted. The only thing that mattered was what was best for Max.

Her knee-jerk reaction was to say no way, either he was in or out; but in all fairness, she’d had almost nine months to get used to the idea of being a parent. He’d had a child thrust on him without warning, and now he was expected to make a decision that would impact his and their son’s life forever. And hers. Could she honestly blame him for erring on the side of caution? He had clearly given this a lot of thought and seemed to have Max’s best interest in mind. Wasn’t that what really mattered? Not to mention that Nathan had shown vulnerability, which she knew had to be tough for him. He was a successful and well-respected man. Admitting he might not be able to hack it as a father couldn’t have been easy for him. She commended him for his honesty.

“I guess a trial period would make sense,” she told him. “Supervised visits, of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

Which meant having to spend time with Nathan, which she was sure would be heart-wrenching for her. Just having him in her home, remembering all the times they had spent there together, made her feel hollowed out inside. Alone. Since they split, she hadn’t so much as looked at another man. Not that she’d had a whole lot of time for dating these days, but she had gone out with friends a few times, attended social functions with her father. Men had tried to strike up conversations, asked her to dance, but she just wasn’t interested.

If a year and a half apart hadn’t dissolved her feelings for Nathan, maybe she was destined to love him forever. Or maybe being around him again would make her realize that he wasn’t as wonderful as she used to think. The man was bound to have flaws. Little character traits that annoyed her. Maybe all this time she’d been building him up in her mind, making him into something he really wasn’t.

A renewed sense of hope filled her. Maybe this would turn out to be a good thing for her. But they had to be cautious.

“I also think it would be best if no one knew about this,” she said.

He looked relieved, probably because he was worried about his position at Western Oil. But there was more to it than that.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he said.

“We’ll have to be really careful. These things have a way of blowing up, and that could be devastating for Max.”

“He’s a baby. It’s not as if he can pick up a newspaper.”

“Not yet. But someday he will. If you decide, for whatever reason, that you can’t be a part of his life, I don’t want him to know about you. If your identity gets out now, you can bet he’ll hear about it eventually. Besides, my father adores Max, but if he were to learn that you’re the father, he would know that our affair was just another way of defying him. He would disown me and Max on principle.”

“Still trying to win his affection?”

“I don’t give a damn what he thinks about me, but Max has a future at Birch Energy, if he should so decide that’s what he wants to do. Right now it’s his legacy. It doesn’t seem fair to deny him that for my own selfish reasons.”

“Yet if I decide to be a part of his life you risk that very thing.”

“Because knowing his real father is too important. He needs a male influence in his life, and as it stands, my father is the best I can do. And who knows, maybe Max isn’t destined to fail him. With me, he never seemed to get over the fact that I wasn’t the son he’d always wanted.”

“So, is that really all I was to you?” he asked. “Just another way to defy your father?”

At first. Until he wasn’t anymore. Until she fell stupidly and hopelessly in love with him. But that would have to remain her little secret. Her pride depended on it. “Does that come as such a shock?”

“Not really, considering we both know it isn’t true.”

And what about him? Did he get off on making women fall for him, then breaking their hearts? Was it all just a game to him? And how was she supposed to react to his accusation? If she denied it, she would look as though she were hiding something. If she admitted the truth … well, that wasn’t even an option.

She refused to give him the satisfaction of any response.

“So, what days would be best for you to see Max?” she asked him. “His bedtime is eight, so if you want to do weeknights it will have to be before that. Sunday afternoons would work too.”

“Weekdays will be tough. I’ve been swamped at work. I’m lucky if I can get out by nine most nights.”

“No one said it was going to be easy. You have to make priorities.”

His look said he was poised to jump to the defensive, but instead he took a deep breath and said, “If I go into the office early tomorrow, I could be out of there by six-thirty. That would get me here a little before seven.”

“That’s a start,” she said.

“Tomorrow it is then.”

A long, uncomfortable silence followed, where neither seemed to know what to say next. Or maybe they had said all there was to say.

“Well, I guess since that’s settled …” He rose from the couch.

“It’s been a long day, and I don’t know about you, but I could go for a glass of wine.” She knew the second the words left her mouth it was a bad idea, but she just wasn’t ready for him to leave.

You can’t force him to love you, she reminded herself. And she wouldn’t want to. She wanted someone without the relationship hang-ups, who loved her unconditionally. If that kind of man even existed.

Nathan studied her, one brow slightly raised. “Are you asking me to stay?”

Yeah, bad idea. “You know what, forget it. I don’t think—”

“Red or white?”

His question stopped her. “Huh?”

“The wine. Do you have red or white?” The hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Because I’m partial to red.”

She shouldn’t be doing this. She was still vulnerable. She was only setting herself up to be hurt. For all she knew he could be involved with someone else now. Maybe that was part of the reason for the trial period.

Character flaws, she reminded herself. She couldn’t find them if she didn’t spend at least a little time with the man.

Just this once, and after this, she would see him only if Max was there.

“Then you’re in luck,” she told him. “Because I have both.”

Four

“If you’re sure it’s no trouble,” Nathan said, a part of him hoping she would say it was.

“No trouble.”

She walked to the kitchen and he sat back down. He wasn’t sure what the hell he thought he was doing. He came here to discuss his son, and now that they had, he had no reason to stay. The problem was, he didn’t want to leave.

Maybe it was time to admit what deep down he had known all along. He still had unresolved feelings regarding his relationship with Ana. Despite what she probably believed, ending it hadn’t been easy for him, either. Ana was the only woman who had ever made him feel like a whole person. Like he didn’t have to hide. Almost … normal. But he knew that eventually his demons would get the best of him—they always did—and she would see the kind of man that he really was. Knowing Ana, and the kind of woman she was, she would want to try to fix him. Well, it wouldn’t work. He wasn’t fixable. And the less time he spent with her, the better. Especially in situations where Max wasn’t there to act as a buffer. So why wasn’t he stopping her as she walked to the kitchen and pulled two wineglasses down from the cupboard? Why didn’t he get up, grab his coat and get the hell out?

Damned if he knew. Although he was sure good old-fashioned stupidity played a major part.

“So,” she said from the kitchen. “You said you’re up for the CEO position?”

He turned to face her. She was standing at the counter opening a bottle of red wine. “It’s between me, the CFO Emilio Suarez and my brother Jordan.”

“Your brother, huh? That must be dicey.” The cork popped free and she poured the wine. “If I recall correctly, your relationship has always been … complicated.”

“Is that the polite way of saying he’s an arrogant jerk?”

“I actually met him at a fundraiser last year,” Ana said, carrying the two glasses into the room.

“Did he hit on you?”

“Why? Are you jealous?” She handed him one, their fingertips touching as he took it from her. It was an innocent, meaningless brush of skin, but boy, did he feel it. Way more than he should have. If she noticed or felt it, too, she wasn’t letting on. She sat back down in the chair, curling her legs beneath her, looking young and hip and sexy as hell. And yes, maybe a little tired.

“I ask,” he said, “because Jordan hits on all beautiful women. He can’t help himself.”

“I believe he was there with a date.”

Nathan shrugged. “That’s never stopped him before.”

“No, he didn’t hit on me. Although maybe it had something to do with the fact that I was eight months pregnant and as big as a house.”

“Somehow I can’t see that stopping him either.”

She laughed. “Come on, he’s not that bad.”

He didn’t used to be. When they were growing up, Nathan had been his brother’s protector. He couldn’t begin to count how many times, when they were kids, that he had taken the blame for things his brother had done to shelter him from their father’s wrath, or stepped between Jordan and their father’s fists. As the older brother he felt it was his responsibility to shelter Jordan, who was quiet and sensitive. A sissy, their father used to call him. But instead of the loyalty and gratitude Nathan would have expected, Jordan learned to be a master manipulator, always pointing the finger at Nathan for his own misdeeds. At home, in school. He became the golden child who could do no wrong, and Nathan had been labeled the troublemaker. Not that Nathan hadn’t gotten into enough trouble all on his own. But after all these years it still chapped his hide.

“Jordan is Jordan,” Nathan said. “He won’t ever change.”

“When will the new CEO be announced?” Ana asked.

Not until the investigation into the explosion at Western Oil was complete, but he couldn’t tell her that. Only a select few even knew there was an investigation. The explosion was caused by faulty equipment—equipment that had just been checked and rechecked for safety—and as a result thirteen men were injured. The board was convinced it had been an inside job, and they suspected that Birch Energy— specifically Ana’s father—was behind it. The goal was to flush out whoever was responsible. But it had been a slow, arduous and frustrating process.

“We haven’t been given a definitive date,” he told Ana. “A few more months at least.”

“And how will you feel if it goes to Jordan?”

“It won’t.” Of the three candidates, in his opinion, Jordan was the least qualified, and Nathan was sure that the board would agree. Jordan used charm to get where he was now, but that would only take him so far.

“You sound pretty sure about that.”

“That’s because I am. And no offense, but I don’t want to talk about my brother.”

“Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“Maybe you could tell me a little about my son.”

“Actually, I can do better than that.” Ana set her wine down, got up from her chair and walked to the bookcase across the room. She pulled a large book down from the shelf and carried it over. He expected her to hand it to him; instead she sat down beside him. So close that their thighs were almost touching.

He liked it better when she was across the room.

“What’s this?” he asked.

She set the book in her lap and opened it to the first page. “Max’s baby book. It has pictures and notes and every milestone he’s reached up until now. I’ve been working on it since before he was born.”

Clearly she had, as the first few pages consisted of photos of her in different stages of her pregnancy, and even a shot of the home pregnancy stick that said “pregnant” in the indicator window. And her earlier self-description that she was “as big as a house” in her eighth month was obviously a gross exaggeration. Other than looking like she had swallowed a basketball, her body appeared largely unchanged.

“You looked good,” he said.

“I was pretty sick the first trimester, but after that I felt great.”

The next page was sonogram photos—with one that clearly showed the baby was a boy—and notes she’d taken after her doctor visits. The pages that followed were all Max. And damn, maybe Nathan was partial, but he sure was a cute baby. But as Ana sat beside him slowly turning the pages, he caught himself looking at her instead. The familiar line of her jaw and the sensual curve of her lips. The soft wisps of hair that had escaped the clip and brushed her cheek. Eighteen months ago he wouldn’t have thought twice about reaching up to tuck it back behind her ear. To caress her cheek, stroke the column of her neck. Press his lips to the delicate ridge of her collar bone …

Damn. He would have thought that over time his desire for her would have faded, but the urge to put his hands on her was as strong as ever. And for her sake as much as his own, he couldn’t.

“He’s a cute kid,” he said, as she reached the end of the book and flipped it closed. “He actually looks a lot like Jordan did at that age.”

She got up and carried the book back to the shelf, sliding it in place. A part of him hoped she would return to the couch and sit beside him, and the disappointment he felt when she didn’t was a clear indication that he needed to get the hell out of there. He should be concentrating on his son, but all he could think about was her.

He swallowed the last of his wine and pulled himself to his feet. “It’s late,” he said, even though it was barely past nine. “I have an early morning. I should get going.”

If his leaving disappointed her, she didn’t let on. She followed him as he walked to the door. “So, we’ll see you tomorrow around seven?” she asked.

“Or sooner if I can manage it.” He shrugged into his jacket and she opened the door. This would normally be the part where she slid her arms up around his neck and kissed him goodbye, and usually tried to talk him into staying the night. God knows he had been tempted, every single time, but that was always where he drew the line. Sleeping over insinuated a level of intimacy where he never dared tread. Otherwise women got the wrong idea. Especially women like Ana.

“I’m glad you came over tonight,” she said.

He stopped just shy of the threshold. “Me, too.”

“And I meant what I said before, about the choice you make. Even after this, if you decide you can’t do this, I won’t hold it against you. Being a parent is tough. It takes a ton of sacrifice.”

“It sounds almost as if you’re trying to dissuade me.”

“It’s also the most rewarding experience I’ve ever had. It changes you in a way you would never expect. Things I used to think were so important just don’t seem that critical anymore. It’s all about him now.”

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to make a child the center of his life. He wouldn’t even begin to know how. “Now you’re scaring the hell out of me.”

She smiled. “I know it sounds daunting, and it is in a way. It’s tough to explain. You’ll either feel it or you won’t, I guess.”

Or maybe it was a chick thing, because he’d never heard any of his friends with kids describe it that way.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” he said.

“I guess.”

He had the distinct feeling she wanted to say something else, so he waited a beat, and when she didn’t he turned to walk out. He was one step onto the porch when she grabbed his arm.

“Nathan, wait.”

He turned back to her. If she was smart, she wouldn’t touch him, but the damage was already done. Now all he could think about was pulling her into his arms and holding her, pressing his lips to hers.

“When we were sitting there looking at Max’s baby book,” she said, “it made me realize how much he’s changed in the past nine months.”

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