The Tycoon's Temporary Baby(9)

“Besides. I don’t have the time or energy to train someone new. My motives are very selfish.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t about to swoon from the romanticism of the moment.” Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into. If my family suspects what we’re up to—”

“Then we’ll convince them that our marriage has nothing to do with Peyton.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Convince them we’re in love?”

“Exactly.”

Wendy gave a snort of laughter. Baby Peyton squirmed in response. She turned her head and gave Jonathon a look of annoyance. If a baby could be annoyed. Obviously she wasn’t going back to sleep. Pressing her tiny palms to Wendy’s chest, she pushed away as if she wanted to be set free.

Wendy crossed to a diaper bag sitting on her desk. He hadn’t even noticed it before, but when Wendy tried to unzip it with one hand, he moved to help her. He brushed her fingers aside and unzipped the bag. “What do you need?”

“The blanket. That pink one there. Spread it out on the floor.”

Once the blanket was out, she situated the baby on her belly in the center of it.

The sight of a baby in the middle of FMJ’s executive offices was so incongruous he could barely remember what they’d been talking about. Oh, right. She’d been snorting with laughter over the idea of them being in love. Nice to know he’d amused her.

“So you don’t think we can convince your family we’re romantically involved?”

Wendy was back at the diaper bag now, pulling out an array of brightly colored toys. “No offense, Jonathon, but in the five years I’ve been here, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you romantically involved.”

“That’s ridiculous. I—”

She held up her hands to ward off his protests. “With anyone. Oh, I know you’ve dated plenty of women.” She stressed “plenty” as if it was an insult. “But romance is not your strong suit.”

Dropping to her knees, she strategically placed the toys in an arc in front of the baby. By now, Peyton had wedged herself up on her elbows.

“You think I can’t be romantic?” he asked.

“I think you approach your love life with all the warmth and spontaneity of a long-term strategic planning committee.”

“You’re saying…what? That I’m a cold fish?” His voice came out tight and strained.

There was something very matter-of-fact about her tone. As if she were stating the obvious. As if it hadn’t even occurred to her that this might insult him.

“Not really.” She tilted her head to the side, her attention focused on Peyton. She nudged a stuffed elephant closer to the baby. He didn’t know if the topic made her uncomfortable or if infant toys were really just that fascinating. “More that you keep your emotions tightly under control.” Apparently satisfied with the arrangement of toys, she stood, dusting her hands off. “You’re a dispassionate man. There’s nothing wrong with—”

Okay, he’d had enough. He strode toward her, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

He didn’t know what pushed him over the edge. Whether it was her unending lecture about how dispassionate he was. Or the fact that ever since he’d said the word “sex” aloud a few minutes ago he hadn’t been able to get it out of his head. Or maybe it was that tempting bit of shoulder her shirt kept exposing. Or hell, maybe it was even the hot-pink strap.

Whatever it was, his restraint snapped and he had to kiss her. And then, he couldn’t stop.



Wendy had not seen it coming. One minute, she was trying to calm Peyton down, keep her distracted enough so she could keep talking to Jonathon. Because frankly, Wendy was having enough trouble concentrating on the logistics of the conversation without Peyton breaking out into all-out fussiness.

And then, a second later, her body was pressed against Jonathon’s and his mouth was moving over hers in a kiss heaven made to knock her socks off.

One hand cradled her jaw, his fingertips rough against the sensitive skin of her cheek. The other was wrapped firmly around her waist, his hand strong against her back, pressing her so close to him she could feel the buttons of his shirt through the thin cotton of her T-shirt.

His kiss was completely unexpected. When he had crossed the room to her, the lines of his face taut, his expression so full of intent, it had never occurred to her that he was going kiss her.

Sure, in the past, she’d imagined what it might be like to kiss him. After all, they’d worked side by side for years. Just because she had a modicum of restraint didn’t mean she was dead. Despite the pure perfection of his exterior, she’d always imagined that in the bedroom Jonathon was very much how he was in the boardroom. Analytical. Logical. In control. Dispassionate.