CEO's Expectant Secretary (3 page)

The woman smiled. “The sunroom. He likes to read the paper there in the morning when he’s here,” she said. “Would you like me to bring your toast and tea into the sunroom?”

“Yes, thank you very much,” she replied.

As Anna had said, Brock sat in a chair in the sunroom, reading a newspaper. She felt a sudden attack of shyness. She’d stayed over at Brock’s apartment at the company several times, but he’d never brought her here. Seeing him in the home he’d grown up in pointed out the differences between them. He was wealthy—and legitimate. She wasn’t.

Silly, she told herself. She just needed to go home. “Brock,” she said.

He immediately turned around and looked at her with those blazing blue eyes. “Good morning. Did you rest well?”

“Yes,” she said. “I should go back home.”

“How’s your stomach feeling?” he asked.

“It’s felt worse,” she hedged.

“How’s the morning sickness?”

She swallowed. “I’ll be okay.”

“Why don’t you sit down and stop pushing yourself?”

“I have things to do,” she said.

He pulled a sheet of paper from the table and handed it to her. “Here. Maybe this will help you take a break.”

She glanced at the press release. It announced the engagement and subsequent wedding of Elle Linton and Brock Maddox.

Elle sank into a chair. “You haven’t sent this out, have you?”

“It went out last night,” he said.

She sucked in a deep breath and fought light-headedness. “Why?”

His gaze met hers. “You know it’s the right thing. Do you really want to raise an illegitimate child? Doesn’t your child deserve more?”

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, her heart torn. “We’re not marrying for the right reasons.”

“What could be a better reason than our child?” He frowned. “You look pale. Do you need water?”

She shook her head. “I feel sick,” she said and raced for the bathroom by her room.

After her stomach calmed down, Elle wiped her face with a cool washcloth and brushed her teeth. Then she sank into a chair in the blue bedroom where she’d slept last night. She was trying to calm down but her mind was racing.
Marriage to Brock Maddox?
She shook her head at the possibility. At the same time she wondered how she could get out of it now that he’d released the news to the press. What choice did she have?

Hearing a tap at the door, she felt her heart race.

“Elle,” Brock said. “Are you okay?”

Not really,
she thought, but rose from the bed and opened the door. He looked down at her in concern. “If you’re getting sick this often, you should see a doctor,” he said.

“Well, you have to admit it’s been a rough twenty-four
hours for me.” She gazed at him, hard. “Why did you go ahead and announce our marriage when I’d already told you no?”

“Because I’m thinking of our child. Our child deserves the best I can give him or her, and I believe a real man doesn’t shirk his responsibilities.”

Like her father had.
Elle had to admit she had never wanted the cloak of shame for her child that she had worn for most of her life. How many times had she been asked about her father and been forced to reply that she didn’t have one? “This is too fast.”

Brock’s jaw tightened. “It can’t happen fast enough, as far as I’m concerned,” he said. “When news of your pregnancy hits, I want you wearing a wedding band and living in my home.”

She frowned, feeling her stomach turn. “Is this all about image?”

“No,” Brock said. “It’s about doing the right thing for everyone concerned. I want you and our baby protected.” He sighed. “You’re right. This is fast, but it’s necessary. If you were dreaming of a big church wedding, that’s going to be difficult to pull off.”

“I never pictured a big, fussy wedding for myself. Whenever I thought about it—and it wasn’t often—I always thought a small beach wedding would be beautiful,” she said. “But that wouldn’t work now, so—”

“Yes, it can,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I can make that happen. Would you like a new dress, and flowers?”

“No, it’s not necessary,” she demurred, looking away, feeling confused by his consideration.

“Let’s schedule this for a week from now. Ask
someone you trust to go dress shopping with you, and choose some flowers. You can put it on my card.”

“No, I—”

“I insist,” he said, taking her hand.

Compelled by his tone, she met his gaze again.

“We’re making a big commitment, Elle. It may not be what we’d planned, but it’s going to work out. There’s no reason for you to be miserable during the process.”

But what about him? she wondered. He may be pushing forward on marrying her, but what were his real feelings? Especially since he knew she’d betrayed him for her grandfather. He still didn’t know about her mother’s treatments, and she found herself reluctant to tell him. Would he think it was just an excuse? Would he think she had tried to extract information from him in bed when in truth, falling for Brock and going to bed with him had
never
been part of the plan?

“How can we possibly make this work? With my family background and yours?” she asked.

“You and I will make it work,” he said. “We have good motivation.”

“But what about how I leaked company secrets?” she asked.

“That’s in the past,” he said firmly, his jaw locked. “We need to take care of the present and look toward the future.”

Elle heard his words but his hard expression made her wonder if he would ever be able to truly forgive her.

Exiting the elevator in the Powell Street office of Maddox Communications on Monday, Brock felt a sense of responsibility hit him, as it often did. It was
hard to believe, but even the seven-story Beaux Arts building built in 1910 would have been demolished by the wrecking ball if not for his father’s determination to restore it. These days, the reception area looked totally different than it had during James’s heyday. Continuing his father’s tradition of embracing modern technology, Brock had arranged for two seventy-inch plasma screens to sit on either side of the reception desk, showing videos and commercials produced by Maddox Communications.

Nodding to the receptionist, Brock walked down the hallway, noting Elle’s empty desk outside his office. He hadn’t needed to fire her or ask her to resign. She’d known she wouldn’t be welcome in the office any longer. He felt a twinge of longing followed quickly by a blast of impatience with himself. From the first day she’d begun working for him, Elle had inspired a strange combination of emotions inside him.

If he’d been smarter, perhaps he wouldn’t have allowed himself to get involved with her so easily. But she was smart and warm, and her sultry blue eyes had distracted him after his fiancée had left him wondering if he should even try to get involved in a serious relationship with a woman. When they’d given in to their impulses, she hadn’t asked him for more. That had only made him ravenous for her.

His need could have brought down the agency his father had worked so hard to build. How could Elle have tricked him like that? How could she have lied with her kisses and passion?

He thought of her grandfather and wondered if he would have done the same for his father if he’d been
asked. Brock already knew the answer. He would have done anything his father asked because he’d provided Brock with unswerving love and loyalty.

Pushing aside his mixed emotions, he walked into the office that had belonged to James Maddox. Brock had changed it very little since his father’s death. Somehow, keeping the same furniture made him feel as if his father were still nearby. The founder of Maddox Communications, however, would be turning in his grave if he knew Brock had gotten sexually involved with his assistant, let alone the granddaughter of Athos Koteas.

He called the human resources director to send up a temporary assistant. Someone trustworthy, he emphasized, feeling a surge of bitterness and tamping it down. Stabbing his fingers through his hair, he took some time to prioritize the work on his desk. Brock was still babying the deal with The Prentice Group. Marrying Elle would dispel any objections the conservative client would have about Brock’s involvement with a coworker.

He swore under his breath. This week had been a nightmare. Finding out that Elle had betrayed him had been bad enough, but learning of her pregnancy had totally turned his head around. Even though he wasn’t sure he could ever trust her again, seeing her in his house had done something to him. Having her there had made the house feel more like a home to him.

Brock had lost his fiancée because he’d ignored his personal life in order to focus on the company. Although he wasn’t in love with Elle, he did have feelings for her.
Add that to the fact that she was carrying his child, and he was determined to make their relationship legal.

His BlackBerry rang and he checked the incoming number. His brother, Flynn. He’d probably gotten wind of the press release. Brock picked up. “Brock here.”

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Flynn said. “This is sudden.”

Brock felt a twist of discomfort. Since Flynn had gotten married and stepped down as VP at the firm, Brock had found himself wanting more camaraderie with his brother. “You know me. When I make a decision, I move fast.”

“I’ll say. Are you headed to the courthouse tomorrow?”

“We’re getting married next week,” Brock said. “It’ll be a beach ceremony. I’d like you to come.”

Silence followed. “Thanks. I’m honored.”

“I’ll give you the details later. How is Renee?” Brock asked, referring to Flynn’s wife.

“Happily bearing my child,” Flynn said. Brock could hear the contentment in his brother’s voice—for once, he felt a sliver of envy. He couldn’t honestly say that Elle was happy to be pregnant with his child.

“She’s excited about attending the shower for Jason and Lauren Reagert’s baby this weekend.”

Brock nodded. It seemed pregnancy was in the water at his firm lately. Jason was a huge new talent at Maddox, and when he’d married his wife, Lauren, he’d done so to avoid a scandal. It hadn’t taken long for Jason and Lauren to fall in love. Brock didn’t expect the same for himself, but he was determined to make his marriage to Elle successful, at least.

“I’m glad things worked out for them,” Brock said.

“Any chance your marriage will make you leave the office on time once in a while?”

Brock gave a cynical laugh. “On time? There's no such thing as a regular quitting time in my life until I’m sure Golden Gate can’t do any more damage to Maddox.” Even now, he wasn’t sure exactly how much Elle had told Koteas, and he refused to grill her in her current state.

“Okay, bro, just don’t forget to live your life. See you next week,” Flynn said.

“Next week. Bye.” Brock disconnected the call. He glanced out the window of his office at the shoppers and trolley cars in constant movement. He remembered the words his father once said when he’d been daydreaming instead of completing a school assignment:
The world won’t stop just because you’ve got problems.

So true, he thought, pulling himself out of his distracted state. He picked up the phone to call a jeweler.

E
lle spent the day visiting her mother at home and her grandfather at the hospital. When she’d broken the news to her mother that she was going to marry Brock after all, her mother had been ecstatic. Elle still couldn’t believe it. The very thought of it locked up her brain, so she’d put off shopping for a dress or anything else. When Brock had called to invite her to dinner at his house, her mother had insisted she join him.

A chauffer picked her up at the condo and took her to Brock’s at six o’clock, but he wasn’t home yet. She wasn’t surprised. She’d worked for him long enough to know his first, second and third loves were Maddox Communications. He was the most dynamic, complex man she’d ever met and despite every reason she’d had to not get involved with him, she couldn’t stop herself.
At the time that she’d fallen for Brock, she’d just been glad to get a piece of him.

Now, everything was a mess.

She sat in the den, which was far too fussy for her taste, and sipped a glass of orange juice and sparkling water. Tired from the day, she sighed, slipped off her shoes and closed her eyes. It seemed like seconds passed and then Brock was standing in front of her.

He studied her with a cryptic grin hovering on his lips. “I should have known you were pregnant when I had to wake you up to go home after we made love all those nights.”

Feeling her cheeks heat at memories of their intimacy, she straightened and pushed her feet into her shoes. “I have to be honest. For a while there, I was worried that something more serious might have been wrong with me.”

“But you’ve been thoroughly checked out?”

She nodded. “The doctor told me it’s not unusual to have a lack of energy. Supposedly that changes sometime during the second trimester.”

“Good,” he said and extended his hand. “Let’s have dinner. Then I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” she echoed, feeling a secret rush of pleasure followed quickly by caution. “Is this a good surprise or a bad surprise?” she asked as he led her into the sunroom.

“I think most women would call it a good surprise,” he said. “Don’t ask any more questions. You’ll know soon enough.”

During dinner, he only made vague references to his work. Elle felt a stab of loss over his previous openness
with her. She’d never realized how much she appreciated the way he’d shared his thoughts and concerns about the company. Of course, she couldn’t blame him for being guarded since he’d learned she’d been spying on him. Still, the loss tugged at her. They would never be the same again. He changed the subject and asked her about her activities.

“You visited both your mother and your grandfather? I told you to rest.”

“If I’d rested any longer, I would have screamed,” she told him. “Can you tell me you would be happy to lie in bed all day long?”

A flicker of heat shot through his gaze. “Under the right circumstances,” he said.

She felt a surprising sliver of arousal but shook it off. Even during their affair, they’d rarely stayed in bed more than an hour or two. “I would like to see those circumstances,” she said.

The housekeeper poked her head inside the room. “Mr. Walthall is here, Mr. Maddox. He’s waiting in the front living room when you’re ready.”

“Ah, the surprise,” he said and glanced at her plate. “Are you sure you’ve had enough to eat?”

“Plenty,” she said. “I was told to try to stick with small, frequent meals.”

“Then we’ll make sure that’s what you get. I’ll tell Anna.” He stood. “Ready?”

“Brock, it’s not your housekeeper’s job to make sure I’m eating properly.”

“She’ll love it. My mother is on the twig-and-berry diet, so Anna will be thrilled at the prospect of fattening you up.”

She shot him a dark look. “I don’t plan to get fat. I just plan to be healthy.”

He shrugged. “That’s what I said.”

Not really, she thought, but didn’t say so as they turned the corner into the formal living room where a man sat with several large cases. He stood and extended his hand. “Mr. Maddox. Phillip Walthall. I’m happy we can be of service to you. And this is?” he asked, looking at Elle.

“This is my fiancée, Elle Linton,” Brock said. “Elle, Mr. Walthall is a jeweler. He’s going to show you some selections so you can choose something you’d like.”

“An engagement ring,” she said, unable to keep the dismay from her voice. She was still trying to pretend this wasn’t going to happen. How in the world would she be able to avoid it if she were wearing a ring all the time? “I don’t need one.”

“Of course you do.”

Mr. Walthall laughed. “Give me a chance to change your mind.”

Brock urged her to sit while the jeweler pulled out a tray of diamonds that made her blink. Although she and her mother had lived in a nice place, they’d been careful with their money. Her mother had always worked and Elle had attended a state college. She’d never envisioned wearing a ring that looked like it cost more than her tuition had. “These are all so big,” she said.

Mr. Walthall chuckled again. “That’s not a complaint, is it?”

“I’m just overwhelmed,” she said.

“What I like to ask my clients is, what is your dream engagement ring? All these years, you must have secretly
dreamed about the ring you might receive from the man you chose to marry,” Mr. Walthall said.

Elle closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Had she ever dreamed about an engagement ring? More often, she’d dreamed of having a father. Then, she’d dreamed of finding a man who would love her as much as she loved him. She’d known Brock would never love her like that, but she hadn’t been able to resist him. If she was going to have a ring, why not make it meaningful, at least to her? “What is December’s birthstone?”

Mr. Walthall lifted his shoulders. “It depends. Blue topaz, tanzanite or ruby, depending on your point of view.”

“Why do you ask?” Brock asked.

“The baby is due in December,” she said.

She saw sadness and something else she couldn’t quite read in his eyes. “My father’s birthday is in December.”

Elle felt a riveting connection with Brock ripple through her. How amazing that their child would be born in the same month as Brock’s father. “I’d like to see some options that would include blue topaz, tanzanite or ruby.”

“Very nice. I always like it when a couple makes a choice that has personal meaning,” Mr. Walthall said.

Within a matter of minutes, she had chosen a series of beautiful tanzanite stones to accent a solitaire diamond. “A half-carat diamond,” she suggested.

Mr. Walthall’s face fell. “A half?”

“Eight carats,” Brock corrected.

Elle felt her eyes nearly bug out of her face. “I’ll need a crane,” she protested.

“You may not realize this, but your ring is not just a reflection of your taste. It’s a reflection of me, too,” Brock said.

She bit her lip, thinking he was spending an obscene amount of money. “You could feed a third-world country with this,” she wailed.

“If it will make it easier for you, I’ll send out a donation matching the cost of the ring tomorrow,” Brock said wryly.

“Can we knock it down to three?” she asked.

“Five. That’s final,” he said.

Elle looked at the jeweler, who appeared totally bemused by their negotiations. “I guess it’s five.”

Mr. Walthall nodded. “It will be a beautiful ring.”

“When can you have it?” Brock asked.

“When would you like it?” Mr. Walthall replied.

“Tomorrow,” he said.

“As you wish, sir.” Mr. Walthall put the trays into his suitcase and clicked them closed. “It’s a pleasure to do business with you. If you change your mind and wish to increase the size of the diamond tomorrow morning, just give me a call and we can make the adjustment.”

The jeweler left and silence fell over Brock and Elle like a blanket.

Brock cleared his throat. “I didn’t realize the baby would be born the same month as my father’s birthday.”

She looked up at him. “Does it bother you?”

He paused a long moment and his gaze softened. “No. It sounds crazy, but I think it will be a comfort.”

She stared at him in surprise. He was a strong man who never asked for comfort, who never seemed to need
comfort. Unable to keep herself from reaching out to him, she lifted her hand.

He drew back. “I want you to stay here tonight,” he said.

“Why?” she demanded, hurt by his rejection of her gesture. “There’s no reason I can’t stay with my mother until—” She stopped. “Until we’re married.”

His face turned to stone. “You’re still doing too much. I can be sure you’ll be taken care of if you’re here.”

Elle sighed. She considered arguing, but the truth was she was tired. It wasn’t as if she would be sharing Brock’s bed. The thought made her stomach clench and her skin burn. What would happen when they made love again? Would it be like before? Was it possible that they could share the passion they once had?

She forced herself to focus on the baby. “I do need the rest,” she said. “But I want to stay at my mother’s tomorrow night.”

“I’ll send a driver and mover to pack your things and bring them here,” he said and looked at her with a possessive gaze. “Plan to stay here tomorrow night. The ring will be ready, and I’ll want to put it on your finger.”

By Saturday, Elle still wasn’t accustomed to the weight of the engagement ring on her finger. She was thankful for the distraction of the baby shower for Jason and Lauren. One of Lauren’s neighbors in Mission Hill was holding the party at her house. Brock had insisted that his chauffeur take her there. He didn’t want her driving, which she thought was ridiculous.

She carried her gift for Jason and Lauren’s baby boy
into the house. Blue balloons and decorations filled the foyer and the large living room had been made ready for the baby shower.

Lauren, with a big baby bump, glanced up as Elle walked into the room. “Elle,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’m so glad you could come. Look at that gorgeous gift. Tell me what’s in it,” she said, beaming with pregnant radiance.

Elle couldn’t help smiling. “You’ll have to open it,” she said.

Lauren made a face. “You can’t give me a hint?”

“It’s blue,” Elle said.

Lauren laughed. “Come here and have some wine,” she said. “I can’t drink it but the rest of you can. I want to toast your engagement.” She put her arm around Elle and guided her to a table. “How did you keep it so quiet?”

Elle bit her lip. “It just kind of happened. I don’t think either of us expected it. Hey, that punch looks delicious.”

“That’s for me,” Lauren said, “since I’m on no booze. But you can have some.” Lauren poured a ladle full in one punch cup and then another. She lifted hers in a toast. “Wishing you the happiest, most wonderful marriage ever.”

Elle felt her throat knot with emotion.
How could this marriage possibly be the happiest ever?
“Thank you,” she said and took the teensiest sip possible. The last thing she wanted to do was get sick at the shower.

“Give me the scoop,” Lauren said. “From the press release, it sounded like you two will be married soon. What’s the rush?”

Elle felt her stomach turn. “You know Brock. When he makes a decision, he moves fast.”

Lauren laughed. “You’re so right.”

Elle felt the rise of nausea in the back of her throat. “Excuse me. I need to use the powder room. Could you tell me where it is?”

“Oh, right through that hallway,” Lauren said and pointed. “Go right ahead. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Elle rushed to the powder room. After she recovered, she splashed her face with water and rinsed out her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. She walked outside and immediately ran into Lauren, who studied her with concern. “Come here for a moment,” she said and whisked her away to a private bedroom. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” Elle said. “I just feel a little off. It’s probably a little virus or something I ate.”

Lauren paused and shook her head. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

Elle’s heart leaped into her throat. She would have tried to lie but the sympathy in Lauren’s eyes prevented her. “Please don’t tell anyone. Brock insisted that we get married.”

Lauren nodded. “I’ve been in your same situation.”

“I’m not sure it’s exactly the same,” Elle muttered, thinking of her grandfather and how she had betrayed Brock.

“Close enough,” Lauren said. “Just try to be open to possibilities. It could turn out much differently than you expect—I speak from experience. Most importantly,
take care of yourself. You’ve got someone precious growing inside you.”

Elle felt a sudden urge to cry. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “Thank you,” she said. “You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

Lauren pulled her into an embrace. “Have you thought about names?”

“That’s way in the future,” Elle said. “I’m still just getting through today.”

“The good times will come soon. Believe me,” Lauren said.

Elle could only hope her friend was right.

Two days later, Elle put on the dress she and her mother had found on sale at an exclusive shop not far from Maddox Communications. Elle had thought about visiting Brock at the office at the time, then quickly dismissed the idea. He wouldn’t have wanted her there.

“You look beautiful,” her mother said, hugging her. “I’m so happy you’re getting married. I’m so happy your baby will have the father you never had. You have no idea what a relief that is, Elle.” Her mother sighed. “I wish I could have given you that.”

Elle’s heart twisted. “You gave me the best things in the world. You, attention and bubbles.”

Her mother laughed. “You always did like bubbles.” She put her hands on Elle’s belly. “I bet your baby will like bubbles, too.”

“You and I both will blow bubbles for him or her,” Elle said, unable to resist a smile.

“Yes, we will,” her mother said. “But first, it’s time for
you to get married.” She leaned toward Elle and brushed a kiss over her cheek. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart. Your Brock is so lucky. Be happy, my girl. Be happy.”

Elle could only hope. She forced her lips into a smile as her stomach turned somersaults. She looked in the mirror. Was that really her? That woman wearing ivory with baby’s breath in her hair? Was she really going to marry Brock Maddox? And could they really make their marriage work?