CEO's Expectant Secretary (6 page)

“I’m so glad. You really do deserve happiness,” Elle said.

Bree shot her a sympathetic smile. “You do, too, Elle.”

“Do you think you can ever forgive me?” Elle asked.

“It’s already done. But you’re going to need to forgive yourself, too.”

Elle felt a slight easing in her chest. She’d carried around the tight feeling so long it had become a part of her. To have Bree forgive her so freely gave her hope that maybe she and Brock could make their family work after all.

“Thank you so much, Bree,” she said. “And now I have a favor to ask. You remember how I helped you with your little makeover?”

Bree nodded. “You definitely don’t need a makeover.”

“Brock’s den needs a makeover. You have a wonderful eye. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind helping me.”

“I’m flattered,” Bree said. “Of course I’ll help.”

After taking photographs of the den and talking about ideas, Elle and Bree decided to go shopping and found the perfect couch, a recliner for Brock and a sofa table. Unaccustomed to having things delivered at the drop of a dime, Elle blinked at how Bree arranged to get the furniture delivered immediately. Bree left with a hug and Elle went to an electronics store to purchase a huge television. As soon as she mentioned her address, the store manager agreed to deliver and set it up immediately.

By seven thirty, she was propped on the new sofa, watching a chick flick on the new television while she ate roasted chicken, green beans and macaroni and cheese. The sad thing was that Brock still hadn’t come home. Elle consoled herself with the macaroni and cheese, even though she knew she would rue the effect later.

Just before eight o’clock, Brock strode into the room, glancing around in surprise. “Where’d the furniture go?”

“You told me to redo a room,” she said. “This is the room I’ve chosen.”

He glanced at the television. “That’s a great picture. I bet you would feel like you’re at the game when you’re watching baseball,” he said.

“That’s the idea,” she said, pleased with her purchase. “Do you mind trying out your new chair?” she asked, waving her hand toward the recliner.

He gave a short laugh and moved to the chair, sitting down and easing back. He let out a sigh. “Perfect,” he said.

Elle beamed. “I think I sat in fifty chairs before I chose that one.”

“I like the couch, too,” he said. “The room looks totally different.”

“I’m not done with it yet, but I think I’ve made a good start.”

He shot her an inquisitive glance. “You’ve been a busy girl.”

She nodded. “Yes, I have.”

He glanced at her plate. “And you’re eating well, too. I’m glad to see it.”

Elle sighed, looking at her mostly empty plate. “I’m craving carbs. Heaven help me when it’s all over.”

“You’ll be a beautiful mother,” he said quietly.

“Do you really think so?” she asked.

“Yes, I do,” he said.

She wanted to ask him if he’d missed her today, if he’d thought of her at all, but she knew the question would sound silly. “How was your day?” she asked.

“Good. Fuller than I expected. I had dinner with a prospective client. The owner of a cosmetics company based on the west coast.” He rose from the chair.

“Sounds exciting,” she said, hoping he would tell her more.

“It’s the beginning stages, so anything can happen. You know how it goes.” His gaze fell over her like a warm veil of heat. “Come upstairs and we can relax in the hot tub.”

The desire in his eyes temporarily dissolved her questions. She gave a slow shake of her head. “Pregnancy and hot tubs aren’t a good idea. Something about the high temperatures being dangerous for the baby.”

He nodded. “I see.”

“But a bath or a shower is okay,” she said.

He extended his hand. “Come upstairs with me,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”

Those last three words were pure magic to her.

On Sunday, Brock didn’t go into the office and Elle persuaded him to go for a walk on the beach and share a picnic.

Brock leaned back against the quilt they’d spread
out on the sand. “I can’t remember the last time I did this.”

“Maybe you should do it more often,” she said, packing away the remnants of their picnic lunch.

“Maybe,” he said, his gaze skimming over her, taking a long swallow from his water bottle. “How are you adjusting to being a Maddox bride?”

“I’m getting there,” she said. “I’m just hoping my husband will be home more when our child is born.”

He inhaled and nodded thoughtfully. “I’m working on it. My father spent a lot more time at the office than he ever did with us.”

“What do
you
want?” she asked. “More time in the office? Or more time with your child?”

“I hadn’t even considered it until now,” he said. “I was always too busy protecting and growing the company.”

“I don’t really know what to expect of a father,” she said and shrugged, “because my father left as soon as he found out my mother was pregnant.”

“That must have been tough for both of you,” Brock said.

She nodded. “It was, but my mother and I were always very close, so I’m lucky that way. Unconditional love between us.”

“But something tells me you had to take care of her a lot,” Brock said.

“True,” she admitted. “But with her, I always felt good enough. Did you ever feel that way with your father?”

“Hmm,” he said. “Good question. I was always pushed to do better, do more.” He glanced at her. “In that way, you were lucky.” He rose up and leaned toward
her, pressing his mouth against hers. “What inspired you to be such a hard worker?”

“I didn’t want to be at the mercy of any man,” she said. The answer came easily to her lips.

He lifted his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes. I spent my entire life with my grandfather supporting us though he was ashamed of us. I didn’t want that for my future. I studied and worked hard,” she said, then closed her eyes. “Then my mother got sick.”

She felt him stroke her hand. “When did Koteas approach you?”

Bitterness filled her mouth. “When my mother’s improvement dipped and the only thing that could help her was the experimental treatment. Of course, insurance wouldn’t cover it. And my grandfather wouldn’t cover it without a price.”

“Did you plan to seduce me?”

Elle laughed and opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “That’s one of the funniest things you’ve ever said to me. I was terrified you wouldn’t hire me. When you finally did, I was fascinated by you. You were this unstoppable force. I’d never met anyone like you.”

“You went to bed with me without a blink of an eye,” he said.

“I—” She broke off, feeing a stab of guilt mixed with a myriad of other emotions. “I couldn’t miss out on being with you,” she said. “Why did you decide to be with me?”

“Same reason, different words,” Brock said, sliding his hand behind her neck and drawing her mouth against his. “I couldn’t resist you.”

“O
h, my God! Vandals have struck,” a woman’s shrill voice called.

Just out of the shower, Elle quickly wrapped her robe around her. Alarmed, she pushed open her door and raced—carefully—down the stairs.

Another shriek sounded from the area of the den.

Elle finally made it there in bare feet and gaped at Brock’s enraged mother, Carol. “Oh, my God,” the sophisticated, elegant woman repeated.

“It wasn’t a vandal,” Elle said breathlessly. “It was me.”

Carol looked at her and frowned as much as her Botox-treated brow would allow. “Who are you?”

Elle fought a flutter of nerves. “I’m Elle,” she said. “Elle Linton—”

“Linton,” Carol interjected. “That name is familiar.
Don’t tell me,” she said, lifting her hand when Elle opened her mouth to speak. “I know that name.” She blinked in recognition. “My son Brock’s assistant.” Then she frowned again. “Why are you here? And wearing a robe? And destroying my den?” Carol said, looking around the room in complete disapproval.

Elle paused, then said, “Elle Linton Maddox.”

Carol’s eyebrows would have risen to her hairline if they could have. “Maddox? Oh, my God. Has my son married you?” Her gaze immediately dipped to Elle’s belly. “Are you pregnant?”

Elle cleared her throat, realizing that Brock hadn’t bothered to contact his mother about their marriage. “Brock and I were married just last week.”

“Oh,” Carol said, clearly at a loss for words. “He didn’t tell me.”

Although Elle understood why Brock resisted his mother’s involvement in both business and his personal life, she felt a twinge of sympathy for the woman. It couldn’t be easy hearing that your oldest son had gotten married—from the new wife herself. “I’m sorry. I realize this is awkward,” Elle said. “Brock has told me a lot about you.”

Carol’s lips lifted in a cynical smile. “All good, I’m sure,” she said, looking at the den again. “I don’t suppose you could tell me what has happened to this room.”

“Uh, Brock asked me to choose one room downstairs to redecorate.” Elle shrugged. “I chose the den.”

“Oh,” Carol said. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It was bound to happen someday.” She returned her attention to Elle, studying her for a long moment. “So you’re the new Maddox bride,” Carol said, slowly
strolling toward her. “I suspect you have no idea what you’re getting into, but I can help with that. My flight from Aspen just arrived an hour ago—I made an extra stop there on my way back from Europe. Let me freshen up and the two of us can do lunch.”

Uncomfortable at the prospect, Elle shook her head. “Oh, I couldn’t. You just got in. I’m sure you want to relax.”

“Nonsense,” Carol said, lifting her lips in a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “I need to get to know my son’s new wife.” She glanced down at Elle’s abdomen again. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you pregnant?”

Elle thought about denying it because she knew what Carol would think—that the pregnancy was the only reason Brock had married her. Which, of course, was true. “Yes, I am.”

Carol gave a knowing nod. She glanced down at a diamond-encrusted watch. “Will an hour give you enough time to get ready?”

“That’s plenty of time, thank you,” Elle said. “But if you need to do something else, there’s no rush—”

Carol smiled again. “There’s nothing more important.”

An hour later, Elle joined Carol in the Bentley driven by a driver named Dirk. Carol peppered her with questions during the ride, and Elle did her best to sound as boring as possible. The car pulled in front of a posh restaurant in a pricey shopping neighborhood.

“Here we are,” Carol said and led the way into the restaurant. Although there was a lunchtime crowd, the host wasted no time finding a table for them. “Now,”
she said. “Tell me all about yourself. All about your romance with my son.”

Grateful for the water the server immediately poured, Elle shrugged. “It wasn’t something either of us expected. There was just this special connection we couldn’t ignore.”

“Obviously, since you’re already pregnant. How far along are you?”

“Over three months,” Elle said, trying to ignore Carol’s tone. “But I’d rather hear more about you and the family. What was Brock like as a baby?” Elle said. “I’m sure you must have so many stories to share.”

“Not as many as you’d think. Being the wife of James Maddox was a full-time job. My husband expected me to be by his side for client dinners. I joined clubs and served on boards to keep the Maddox name visible. The company was always number one with my husband. As it will be with Brock,” she said. “But I’m sure you already know that, since you’ve worked with him.”

“But you must have some memories of Brock as a child,” Elle said.

“He was a handful. Very physically active, very curious, ambitious from the day he was born. Of course, his father loved that about him. We had a nanny before he was sent to private school. His father had very strong opinions about Brock’s upbringing. He always said he was raising the lead lion, and the word ‘average’ was never allowed in any discussions about Brock. Speaking of a nanny, I can get you in with the most exclusive agency in San Francisco.”

“Oh, I haven’t even thought about nannies yet,” Elle
said, thinking her view of parenting might differ widely from that of Carol Maddox.

“Well, don’t leave it until it’s too late. I’m sure Brock will demand the cream of the crop. He’s just like his father that way,” Carol said. “Since you’re no longer working for Brock, have you decided which clubs you’d like to join? I can help you with that, too.”

Elle shrugged and smiled, trying not to feel overwhelmed. “I have to be honest. Between the marriage, the move and the pregnancy, I’m still taking it one day at a time.”

“Oh, the pregnancy,” Carol said and shook her head. “The most miserable times of my life. I was in bed half the time with both of them. Maybe you’ll get lucky and have a boy the first time and then you can talk Brock into stopping at one. Having a second child was necessary for the well-being of my marriage,” Carol added. “Never forget for a moment that women will compete for the attention of a wealthy man, whether he’s married or not. There’s always someone trying to take your husband away from you.”

When Elle returned home, she felt like crawling back into bed and hiding. Marrying Brock was clearly the biggest mistake of her life. She should have quit Maddox and fled to Mexico or Canada or Paris. Anywhere but here with Brock’s Cruella de Vil mother. Feeling suffocated, Elle snuck out of the house and drove to her mother’s. They spent the afternoon talking and baking cookies together for one of the members of Suzanne’s support group.

When the clock passed seven in the evening, her
mother slid her arm around Elle. “Sweetie, shouldn’t you be with your husband?”

“He’s working. He won’t mind me spending time with you,” Elle said.

“But it’s getting late,” her mother said. “Are you sure you shouldn’t go home?”

Elle’s cell phone rang. She winced, pretty certain she knew who was calling.

“Elle?” her mother prompted, when she didn’t race to her purse.

Elle reached for her phone and answered it. “Hi,” she said.

“Where are you?” Brock asked.

“With my mom,” Elle said, forcing her lips into a smile. “Baking cookies. Where are you?”

“At home looking for my wife,” Brock said. He paused a half beat. “My mother scared the piss out of you, didn’t she?”

Elle laughed nervously. “Cannot lie. She’s a little creepy.”

“Come home,” he said. “I’ll protect you.”

“You can’t protect me during the day when you’re at work,” she said.

“I can buy her a new place,” he said. “Let her fill it up with all the stuff that’s in the house.”

“She can’t be all bad,” Elle said. “She had you.”

“Don’t remind me,” he muttered.

“I don’t know,” Elle said. “I bet you don’t know everything about what went on between her and your father.”

“You’re not defending her,” he said.

“No, but I think there may be more than meets the eye.”

“I can’t disagree. There’s Botox, face-lifts, Resty-lane—”

“Give the woman a break. Her whole life was being Mrs. James Maddox.”

“She sucked you in,” Brock said.

“I can see some of her points,” she admitted.

Silence passed. “You’re joking.”

“No. I’m not.”

“That’s it,” Brock said. “I’m sending Roger to get you.”

“I have my car,” Elle said.

“I don’t want you driving in the dark,” Brock said.

Elle rolled her eyes. “Too bad,” she said and hung up. Feeling her mother’s gaze on her, she pretended to continue her conversation. “Of course, I’ll come home darling. Right away,” she said and turned to her mother. “I guess I should go home.”

Her mother studied her suspiciously. “Are you sure everything is okay between the two of you?”

“I’m sure,” Elle fibbed, making sure not to look directly at her mother because her mother could read her like a book. “We’re newlyweds. We’re working things out. Plus, I’m pregnant. It’s complicated, but Brock is an amazing man.” Elle wasn’t shading the truth about most of what she’d said. “I’ll see you soon,” she said and gave her mother a hug.

Thirty minutes later, Brock heard the front door open. He knew it was Elle and breathed a sigh of relief. If he’d known his mother was returning today, he would have
found a way to protect Elle. His mother was the most manipulative woman he’d ever met and he would have thrown her out of the house earlier except he’d never had a compelling reason. Until now.

He strode toward the foyer and met Elle just as she took her first step upstairs. “Elle,” he said.

She turned around. “Hi,” she said.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with my mother by yourself today,” he said.

She made a face. “It’s not as if she’s a mass murderer,” Elle said. “Although she clearly has issues.”

“That’s an understatement,” he muttered. “I’ll be moving her out as soon as possible.” Elle frowned.

“What?” he demanded.

“I hate to displace her,” Elle said. “Something about her seems so sad.”

Seeing the compassion on her face made something inside him twist and turn. Underneath it all, Elle had a good heart, but her sympathy for Carol was misplaced. “Giving Carol her own place isn’t displacing her. It’s not as if I’m kicking her out and telling her to live in a park.”

Elle bit her lip. “Are you sure it’s the most compassionate thing to do?”

“I’m sure it’s the right thing to do, for Carol and our marriage,” he said firmly.

Two days later, Carol was ensconced in a new home just a few streets over and all her things had been hauled away by a moving company. Unfortunately, she had taken very few of the furnishings from Brock’s home,
which meant that Elle would need to sort out what should be discarded and what should be kept.

Elle turned to Anna. “What if I throw away something important, something that belonged to James?”

Anna pressed her lips together in sympathy. “I’ll help as best I can, but he did pass several years ago.”

Elle groaned. “I’ll run everything past you. If there are questions about something, we’ll put it in storage.”

Going through all the junk took over twelve hours a day for the next week. Elle fell into bed every night exhausted. When Brock awakened her one morning, she wasn’t sure which day of the week it was.

“This has got to stop,” he said. “It’s bad for your health. Bad for the baby.”

“It’s almost done. It’ll probably only take a couple more days” she said, still melting into the mattress.

She felt his sigh drift over her shoulders. “I still have a lot to do with Prentice, and we’re on the brink of another big deal, but I’d like to take you away,” he said, skimming his fingers through her hair.

“Really?” she said. “Where?”

“Somewhere quiet,” he said. “Somewhere away from here.”

“I tried to exorcise the demons in this house, but I’m not sure I did,” Elle said.

“Demons?” Brock echoed.

“Bad karma?” she said. “Bad memories? I’m not sure what it is, but I don’t want it contaminating our future,” she murmured.

He took her shoulders and turned her over to face him. He looked into her sleepy blue eyes and found
himself craving more. “There’s no such thing as bad karma,” he told her. “I told you I would protect you.”

She let out a long sigh. “With our histories, it’s going to take more than one warrior to make our marriage work.”

He saw the steely determination in her gaze and felt a surge of something primitive inside him. He’d never met a woman like Elle, a woman who could match his passion and his strength. “You keep surprising me.”

“Is that a good thing?” she asked, her blue eyes dark and moody.

“I’ll let you know. In the meantime, pack a bag. You and I are getting out of here,” he said, making an instant decision. If Elle was going to rest, then he needed to take her away.

Within hours, Brock was driving toward the mountains. “I have a house a few hours from town. I go there as often as I can, which hasn’t been much lately.”

She sank into her leather seat and relaxed. “I’ve never heard about this place. You never went when I worked for you.”

“When you were working for me, I was spending every spare moment I could with you,” he said, taking a turn up a mountain road.

She rolled her head toward him. “It’s nice to know that I wasn’t the only one who was half crazed,” she said.

He shot her a glance, then chuckled under his breath. “Half crazed is under estimating it by a long shot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “At least you got to stay all night in your apartment. I usually had to drive home in the middle of the night.”

“What are you talking about? My driver took you home,” he said.

“Oops,” she said.

He shot her a sideways glance, feeling his gut tighten with frustration. “Are you telling me Dirk didn’t take you home all those times?”

She paused. “I’m not telling you that.”

“Because you don’t want him fired,” Brock said. “How the hell did you talk him out of it?”

“It wasn’t easy, but how was I going to explain arriving home at my mother’s with a chauffeur, especially when I needed to drive myself to the office the next day? He followed me to make sure I arrived home safely.”