Someone coughed. Kim glanced up and found Sally standing in the entrance of the cubicle. Sally was Dave’s wife. She was seven months pregnant and looked it. At the sight of her, Kim’s hand went to her stomach; she was still avoiding thinking about the whole pregnancy thing. Well, as much as she could with a pregnancy test hidden in her underwear drawer. It was too soon yet, but the day was drawing closer. She still thought it wasn’t possible—she didn’t feel pregnant.
“You okay?” Sally sounded suspicious. But maybe pregnant women could recognize each other, some sort of pheromone thing. God, she hoped not.
“Why?”
Sally grinned. “Well, you were banging your head against the desk. Anything the matter?”
“Just clearing my mind,” she muttered. “You looking for Dave?”
“I just saw him. He’s finishing up, said he would meet me in here. I thought I’d come for a little chat.”
She liked Sally; she’d met her a few times at company parties. She was always cheerful, and today she was positively blooming. Pregnancy agreed with her.
“So how are things going with you and Jake?” Sally perched on the edge of the desk.
Kim shot her a wary glance. “There is no me and Jake.”
“That’s not what Dave says.”
“Did Dave put you up to this little chat?”
“Maybe. He’s worried about Jake.”
“So now, just because Dave’s wallowing in domestic bliss, he wants everyone else to do the same.”
Sally laughed. “I guess. But he is. Wallowing, I mean, and he wants to spread the happiness.”
“Aw, how sweet.” But it was in a way. “So are you excited about the baby?”
“We were trying for years before it happened. Now it’s hard to believe in a few months we’ll be a proper family.”
Her happiness was so obviously genuine that Kim shoved aside her skepticism and let Sally chatter away about the preparations for the baby. How Dave was fixing up the nursery in his spare time. Her face lit up every time she mentioned Dave. Who would have thought it? She had a momentary flash of jealousy. What would it be like to feel so loved and secure?
Dave appeared ten minutes later. “You two having a nice little chat?”
“Wonderful,” Kim murmured. “You know, someone told me recently that there’s a bet going on in the office about whether Jake and I will get together. I can guess where Dave’s put his money.”
He laughed. “You’re a cynic.”
“Oh, yeah. But it’s nice to see that the two of you aren’t. I’m happy for you both. And he or she”—she pointed at Sally’s bump—“ is a very lucky baby.”
“Not tempted to try it yourself?” Sally asked. “Jake would make a dreamy father.”
“I don’t think so.” Kim resisted the urge to touch her stomach. Instead, she crossed her fingers under the desk, as an image of a blue-eyed baby flashed up in her mind. Never going to happen. But the image lingered. “And, I told you, there’s nothing like that with me and Jake.”
The phone beside her rang, and she picked it up. It was Margie.
“Jake says he’s delayed. Go home, pick up your things, and he’ll meet you on the roof at seven.”
“Meet him on the roof? Why?” The roof sounded an odd place to meet.
“Apparently, you’re going wherever it is you’re going by helicopter.”
“Scotland. And it’s a job.”
“Of course it is,” Margie replied smoothly.
She put down the phone and looked up into Dave’s grinning face.
“It’s a job,” she snapped.
“Of course it is.”
…
“Oomph.”
Jake had tightened her harness.
“Too tight?”
Kim wriggled about and found she could still breathe. Besides, she wanted to be locked in tight and safe—she was afraid of heights, though she’d never admitted that to Jake. “I’m good.”
He sat back and surveyed her. “I like you all strapped in…at my mercy.”
“In your dreams.” But a frisson of sensation shivered down to settle in her belly.
“Oh, it is.” His gaze ran over her, and the frisson sank even lower. She squirmed in her seat. “Have I mentioned I like the outfit?” He frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a skirt before.”
She was wearing clothes she’d bought for the kick-ass-chick makeover. She might as well get some use out of them, even though she’d decided the whole kick-ass-chick image was way too much work.
The skirt was short, black, and made of soft, supple leather. She wore it with stockings and her four-inch stilettos—she had no plans to walk anywhere tonight. She’d been totally gratified by Jake’s expression when he’d caught sight of her. He’d hustled her into the helicopter as though he couldn’t waste a moment. But now that he had her strapped in, some of his urgency seemed to leave him. He laid a hand against her knee then pushed it up between her legs to rest on her inner thigh. She shifted in her seat but couldn’t move with the harness holding her so tight. A mere inch higher and he’d be touching her where she needed him the most.
But in a helicopter?