Lone Star Baby Scandal(12)

Finally she had changed schools and as soon as she received her diploma, she’d thrown a dart at the map and packed her bags. And she had never returned. She didn’t know if she could ever go back. But with the baby coming, her options were few.

Her mother had insisted that she could come home, that in the intervening years everything had settled down and there was no reason not to return to her childhood home. But Sophie remembered the taunts and the stares and the fingers pointed at her with whispers of Isn’t that Sophie Prescott? Wasn’t she one of the four teenagers who set that barn on fire and killed that elderly man?

She realized just thinking about it made her mouth go dry and the tears well in her eyes. If only some parts of life were do-overs. She would’ve never gone to that barn, would never have sat next to her friends as they watched in silent horror as the match’s flame had blazed out of control. They had never seen the elderly man who had fallen into a drunken stupor in the corner of the ground floor.

She placed the last of her items in the suitcase and closed the lid. She made sure the little cottage was locked up tight. She had just stepped out onto the front porch when Clay pulled up to the curb in a pickup. He helped her with her bag and they were off.

It was a brief ride back to the Flying E Ranch, down the extended driveway and into a parking space at the back of the house. Clay brought in her bag. If he noticed she was unusually quiet during the trip, he said nothing.

His home left the description of “large” in the dirt. Three considerably sized houses could fit inside his mansion with room to spare. She followed him through the maze of hallways, past more than ten bedrooms that filled the third floor, finally opening a door on the right. The room was as large as her entire cottage.

“The bath and closets are through that door.” He nodded toward a single door next to the fireplace. “After you get settled then come and find me. I’ll be in my office.”

Ten minutes later she entered his spacious office, pulled a chair closer to his desk and with pen in one hand, notepad in the other, she was ready to go to work.

By ten o’clock that evening Clay called a halt to the insanely busy day and insisted on walking her to the temporary suite where she would stay.

“I appreciate you, Sophie.” He leaned forward and briefly traced her lips with his. “Good night.”

“Good night, Clay.”

After closing the door behind her, she walked to the bed and opened the small suitcase sitting next to it. What a day. One full of surprises. There would definitely be a better, more appropriate time to advise Clay he was going to be a father after this situation with his company was put to rest. In the meantime, it would allow her a chance to get used to the idea. She looked down and placed her hands over her flat stomach. Being in Clay’s home twenty-four hours a day would make it difficult to conceal the morning sickness. But she had to find a way, for Clay’s sake. It wouldn’t do to have him worried about this when he had so many other things stacked on his plate. Everest was a major global corporation and God only knew who was trying to shut it down and why.

Over the years, Sophie had met a good many secretaries and administrative assistants of local companies here in Royal. Tomorrow she would begin calling them to see if she might gain some insight as to what is going on. Sometimes the assistants knew as much as or more than their bosses.

She grabbed a T-shirt and some clean panties from her bag and headed toward the bathroom. A long soak in a hot tub of water sounded like it would hit the spot. She picked up the jar of bath beads and the bubble bath, deciding to go all the way. It didn’t take long for the huge spa-like bathtub to fill with water. Once she’d shed her clothes, she stepped into the hot bath.

She lay back and just soaked for a long time. Finally, deciding she was about to become a prune, she reached for her shampoo. It wasn’t next to the tub. Sitting up, she looked around the room. No sign of it. She must have left it inside of her suitcase. Standing, she then exited the tub and ran into the bedroom. No shampoo inside her bag.

Could it have fallen out somehow when Clay brought the bag upstairs? Chewing her bottom lip, she eased open the outer door. Nothing. Pushing the door open a bit more, she spotted the silver cap of the bottle under the palm plant just a few steps down on the other side of the hall. After looking both directions down the long hallway and seeing nothing, she slipped out of the room and rushed over to the plant. Just as her fingers touched a metal object and she realized it was not her shampoo, she heard her bedroom door click closed behind her.

She rushed back to the door. It was locked! She could feel the blood drain from her face. Crap! What was she going to do now? She stood naked in the hall with nothing but a few bubbles to cover her and they were fading fast. She again tried to turn the doorknob in both directions. Nothing. She tried shaking the door. It remained firmly closed.

It was then she heard someone exit the elevator and walk in her direction. Panic set in every cell of her body. She looked around her, but the only shield was the palm plant. There was no time to question the logic of the idea. She bolted over to the plant, pulled it away from the wall and squeezed in behind it. It stood four feet high and was about the same width as her body but there was plenty of space in between the leaves. Maybe whoever it was coming her way wouldn’t notice. Or maybe the person would enter a room before they came this far down the hall.

Her luck wasn’t that good. She caught sight of long, muscled legs clad in worn jeans striding past her. Clay stopped a few steps past the plant then turned around and stood directly in front of her.

“I assume you have a good explanation,” he said in that deep voice.

“Get me a towel,” she whispered loudly, anger lacing her words.

After hesitating only a few seconds, he walked toward her room and found the door locked. Uproarious laughter followed. She didn’t know whether she should be furious with him for laughing at her situation or smile at the beautiful ring in his voice. She’d known Clay a long time and it was rare for him to smile, let alone laugh. She decided rather quickly, since she was still in the embarrassing situation, anger was her friend.

He dug deep in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, quickly finding one, which he inserted into the lock. The door opened.

“I guess I don’t need to tell you these doors have a lock. One tiny little button you push and it requires a key to reopen it from the outside.”

“Well, I’m glad you remembered to tell me,” she snapped. “Now please move away from the door so I can go inside and finish my bath.”

“I’m just curious, what in the hell were you doing running up and down the hallway without any clothes on?”

“I wasn’t running up and down the hallway! I needed my shampoo.”

“Ah, and you thought it would be out here?” It was half question, half statement.

“No. Yes. I looked everywhere else. I thought you dropped it when you brought in the bag.”

He pushed the door open, graciously moved away and turned back toward where she still huddled behind the bush. He offered his hands to help her stand.

“Thanks. I can stand on my own. Just make sure the door isn’t locked and thanks for your help.”

“Sophie, don’t be ridiculous. Give me your hand.”

She swallowed hard and placed one hand in his. Just as he began to pull her up, she slid her slippery hand out of his grasp.

“I told you I can get there on my own. Now just go away.”

The game was once again on. Catching one slender wrist, he hauled her up from behind the plant, hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her to the bedroom. Sophie squealed and kicked her feet for all she was worth. It did no good at all. She was a one-hundred-and-twenty-five-pound woman and he was used to tossing around five-hundred-pound cows.

Clay set her down next to the bed but instead of making a move toward her, he just stood watching her. Her heart was beating hard in her chest, especially when she looked at his face. He was not going to let her simply go through the door and continue as she had been. He was going to grab her. And kiss her. And she wouldn’t let her mind go further than that. With her chin up, she fought to reclaim her integrity and marched into the bathroom. Surprisingly Clay let her go. She felt the need to run but refused to give in to the instinct as she headed toward the tub. Quickly she sat down in the still-warm water with the intent of finishing her bath. She still had no shampoo.

A knock against the frame of the bathroom door caught her attention. She looked up to find Clay holding her bottle of shampoo, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“It had rolled under the bed.”

She reached out for it.

His lips pursed as though hiding a grin. Mischievousness danced in his eyes.

“Now the question is, what will you give me for it?”

Sophie wanted to play this game. But it would set a precedent and the rest of her stay here would be based on her answer.

“Come closer and see,” she said softly.

Clay’s eyebrows came together in a cautious frown but he proceeded to walk toward the tub. His green eyes gleamed in speculation. Sophie raised her arms to him, silently asking him to bend down to her.

As soon as he did, she pulled him to her lips and kissed him. About the time she heard him moan, she raised the washcloth over his head and squeezed. He jumped back, completely caught off guard.