Expecting the Boss’s Baby Read Online Free Page B

light bounced off the acoustical tile ceiling. “I met him at Stanford. Years ago. He’s from a really old and important California family. He moved to San Antonio last fall. We’ve been dating—both seriously and exclusively. Saturday, he asked me to be his wife.”
    Dax winced as he took off the sunglasses. “Well, give Johnny my congratulations. He’s a fortunate man.” He squinted at her. She couldn’t tell if he was disappointed that they weren’t ever having sex after all. Or if he just had a really bad hangover.
    She beamed. “Yes, he’s a lucky man. And I’m a happy, happy woman.” She tried to look deeply in love as well as sexually sated.
    His brow crinkled. “So does this mean you’ll be giving me notice?”
    She blinked. “Notice? Of course not. I intend to work for you for years and years.”
    He reminded her drily, “That is, if you pass your two-week review.”
    She brushed a curl of red hair back over her shoulder. “You know I will. Already, after one week, you can’t function without me. And Johnny knows I love my new job. He would never ask me to quit.”
    â€œJohnny sounds like a real prize,” he remarked with absolutely no inflection.
    â€œOh, he is, he is.”
    â€œIn fact, he almost sounds too good to be true.”
    She didn’t miss a beat. “He does, doesn’t he? But he is very real. A man of flesh and blood, of—”
    â€œZoe?”
    â€œHmm?”
    â€œDon’t overplay it.” He gave her one of those looks, both patient and all-knowing. Was he on to her little deception—already, when she’d barely begun it?
    Surely not.
    She smiled at him, a sweet smile. Angelic, even.“All right, Dax. I’ll do my best to keep my unbounded, ecstatic happiness to myself.”
    â€œExcellent. We need to prep for the meeting.”
    â€œThe caterers from the bakery should be here by nine-thirty.”
    â€œGood. Give me ten minutes to pull myself together. We’ll do a quick once-over of what has to be covered before we go down.”
    â€œI’m ready.”
    He shook his head. “Are you always so eager on a Monday morning?”
    She beamed. “I’m young, I’m in love and I’ve got a great job.”
    â€œUgh.” He put his dark glasses back on. “That does it. I absolutely forbid you to smile again until at least 11 a.m.”
    â€œI live to serve.” She mugged an exaggerated frown.
    â€œThere. That’s more like it.”
    Â 
    During the first three days of that week, Zoe made up a lot of stuff about Johnny—most of it on the spot when someone would ask her a question about him and she would have to produce an answer. Later, at home alone in the evening, she would open her “Johnny” file and add in whatever new information she’d fabricated about the new love of her life. It worked out well. She made up stuff and then she made sure she remembered what she’d said.
    Johnny, as it turned out, was allergic to strawberries. His last name was Schofield—of the Mendocino Schofields. He traveled a lot, taking care of various “family interests.” He loved long walks on the beach and quiet nights at home and he was an accomplished horseman.
    He had moss-green eyes and dark gold hair that Zoe loved to run her fingers through. He was tender and loving, a good listener. He truly was the perfect man.
    Well, except for the fact that he didn’t exist.
    Wednesday afternoon, as they were going over Dax’s travel checklist for the last time, Zoe caught him yet again looking at her legs. She went right on with her rundown of his itinerary. There was no law that said he couldn’t look.
    She felt much more relaxed around him now. More confident in her ability to resist his considerable charm and powerful sex appeal. Johnny, as it turned out, had been just what she needed to help her keep