Billionaire Bodyguard 1 : Billionaire Bodyguard(22)

She'd already wrestled through the night with a deluge of shock, denial, resentment, amazement, awe, devastation. About every conflicting feeling accessible to the human range of emotion, she'd experienced.

Now she was plain exhausted. Numb. Wrung dry.

Returning from the second floor marketing office, she sank wearily into her chair. She closed her eyes, resting her forehead on the back of her wrist.

Any sensible course of action eluded her, as though she floated alone on a life raft, seeing nothing but endless ocean in every direction. Her options were bleak. Which heaped on horrible guilt for not being happier about the small miracle inside her.

A baby . She placed her hand lightly on her abdomen. What right did she have to receive this gift? What did she know about raising a child? She'd had no role models, no practice-she'd never even given it a thought, too focused on France to consider anything else.

What do I do?

No answer came. Nothing. Her brain, her heart, and her soul had left the building. She was a shell facing the crushing weight of the unknown.

Her office door sailed open. Devon breezed in. "Hey." She grinned, her teeth bright within the frame of her red lips. "Stopped by to see if Vivi Syndrome wore off yet."

"That woman is the least of my problems." Allison couldn't meet her eyes.

Gaze narrowing shrewdly, Devon shut the door. "I noticed you and Logan left pretty quick."

Allison nodded, said nothing.

"Are you okay? You look like hell warmed over."

"Thanks." Allison gave a hollow laugh. "About how I feel."

"That bad?"

Tension tightened at her temples. She tried to respond, but the words stuck in her throat.

Devon's back straightened with take-charge ambition. "I see a two-martini lunch in our near future." She glanced at her watch. "Make that happy-hour. It's almost five-o'clock. Somewhere."

"I wish." Defeat clung to Allison.

Devon gave a decisive nod. "I'll make the reservation immediately."

"Don't." Allison stopped her. "I can't."

"Oh, please." Devon rolled her eyes. "Logan's not a slave driver. You can play hookie for one afternoon."

Allison shook her head wearily. "I mean, I can't drink. And I'd be the worst company."

"Drowning your sorrows at the bottom of a bottle is a perfectly fine coping mechanism. I highly recommend it."

Allison fixed her stare on her desk. "Not for the next nine months of my life."

"What do you mean, the next nine-" Devon froze to the spot. "Don't tell me you're … " 

"Yep. Pregnant. Yes, it's Logan's. Isn't that wonderful?" Allison burst into tears.

"Oh, honey." Compassion gentled Devon's voice.

A strangely comfortable silence passed between them. No judgment, no pity, no questions. Just quiet companionship. Allison's gratefulness caused more tears to well up and spill down her cheeks. Her eyes ached. Her throat was raw. The tears kept coming.

Devon picked up the nearby box of Kleenex handed her a tissue. Allison wiped her dripping chin, feeling pathetic but surprisingly relieved. Like the sticky mess inside her had been scraped away and life became a little cleaner, a little clearer.

Devon asked softly, "Does Logan know?"

"No." Allison blew her noise. "Not yet."

A wry note accompanied Devon's tone. "I'd love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation."

"Me, too. Then I wouldn't have to be in my own skin. An out-of-body experience sounds like paradise compared to standing there, defenseless and alone, waiting for his reaction."

"First of all, you're not alone. Let's clear that up right off the bat. Second-"

"I've always been alone."

"Second," Devon repeated firmly, "as far as defenses go, Logan's not the type to lose it when things really count. Sure, he'll rant and rave up a storm if someone's made a stupid mistake that cost him a deal. But that's business. When it comes to friends and family, he's the guy you want on your team."

"I'm not a friend or family."

"You are now." Devon slid a meaningful glance to her abdomen.

"What if I don't want a family? What if I'm not ready for any of this?"

"Buckle your seatbelt, sister. This ride's already started."

Allison's chin trembled. Devon handed her another tissue. "I'm not Logan's problem."

Devon considered her. "Logan would sooner kick a wounded puppy as throw his pregnant girlfriend out on the streets. It's not in him. He doesn't abandon or reject the people who need him. If anything, his weakness is getting too involved, caring too much."

"I'm not his girlfriend." Resentful frustration grated on her. "He owes me nothing." Defiance straightened her spine. "Maybe I don't want anything from him. Maybe it's better if I walk away."