His Secretary's Little Secret - Catherine Mann

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the conservationist, animal lifesaving oath I took, but I’m not a vegetarian and I always eat what I catch.”

      “It’s not bungee jumping or something equally adrenaline inducing?”

      “I know. I’m a letdown. I like fishing because I enjoy the quiet time to think and reflect. And I’m humbled by the way the ecosystem works—how connected everything is.”

      “Now who is full of surprises?” she murmured, more to herself than to him.

      “My turn. What about your dreams? What do you really want to do?”

      “I’m happy to be your assistant.”

      He shook his head. “Not what I asked.”

      They were only a few minutes away from the Hemingway Home and Museum, and the traffic around them increased, taillights glowing all around like a faux fire.

      Portia tugged on her ponytail, thinking.

      “In a perfect world? Like a money-and responsibility-free world?”

      “Yep.” Tall palms stretched above them, casting shadows over her face.

      The bright-colored houses and tropical foliage made the island look more like a movie set than reality. Foot traffic was dense too, but the cruise ship passengers on tour for the day would be pulling out before too long and things would quiet down.

      “I think I’d like to do something with art. Maybe a nonprofit for kids that focused on creativity after school. Especially for kids who don’t have a strong family support system. I’d love to help them see they have the ability to create something beautiful and wonderful.”

      Her words touched him as he turned the corner, traffic heavier as they drew closer to the historic landmark. “That’s a wonderful idea. There isn’t enough of that in the world. Any particular reason you chose this need over others?”

      “When I was younger, I saw a lot of kids bogged down by circumstances out of their control and they had no outlets of support. I hated that.”

      He could hear in her voice a more personal reason for her dream, one he felt like she wanted to share. This woman was more like the one he remembered from the night of the storm, the Portia who’d told him of her need to keep on the lights during storms as a child so her brother and her stuffed animals wouldn’t be afraid. But he’d seen in her eyes that she’d craved that light and comfort then too, but even now was unwilling to admit her own need for support. Even as her standoffish ways frustrated him at times, he also couldn’t help but admire her strength.

      If he could keep her talking, he could win her over. What he’d do once he had her, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he wanted her like he’d wanted no one and nothing else.

      But how to tease this information out of her?

      He slowed the car to a halt, the traffic in front of him growing worse.

      And then the unthinkable happened, interrupting his thoughts. A crash echoed in his ears less than an instant before the car jolted forward.

      They’d been rear-ended. Damn. His protective instincts went on high alert and his arm shot across in front of Portia.

      Only keeping her safe mattered.

       Three

      Her near-electric moment with Easton ended with a resounding thud.

      A minivan had rear-ended them.

      Easton had flung his right arm out to protect her...and protect their unborn child. Not that he knew anything about the baby, and she wasn’t any closer to being ready to tell him on this far-from-normal day.

      As far as dates went, her romantic outing with Easton had been anything but typical. Yet not in the quirky up-for-whatever way that normally characterized Easton’s gestures. She’d seen his protective impulses around his niece and the animals. But this was the first time Portia had been on the receiving end. If she weren’t stunned—and more than a little afraid—she would think longer on how that made her feel.

      His blue eyes filled with concern as his hand reached for hers, helping her step out of the car.

      “I’ll be fine.” She waved him off, eager to get out of the Corvette and take dozens of deep breaths away from the scent of scorched rubber and brakes. “I promise, I will tell you if I feel the least need to go to the doctor.”

      And she would. Keeping her secret wasn’t worth risking her child. Already, she could hear sirens and see cop cars, firetrucks and an EMT vehicle. She would check in with a medical tech.

      “All right. I’ll go give the statement to the police.” He squeezed her hand quickly before walking away to check in with one of the officers.

      One deep breath after another, she calmed her nerves, taking comfort in the strong breadth of Easton’s shoulders. She winged a prayer of thanksgiving that he was okay, as well. This could have been so much worse than a dented fender.

      In all honesty, she had been in a worse accident when she was thirteen, shortly before her mom died. Her mother had taken her to school in a little blue car. At the final turn before the school, they’d been sideswiped by a bright red pickup truck. That day, she’d needed stitches, and her mother had severely damaged her already ravaged liver. Only a few months later, her mother had died, leaving Portia and her brother alone. They’d moved from Nevada and into the house with their father’s older sister in Florida.

      While today’s crash had only been a fender bender and there were no overt signs of damage, still, she worried. Had the crash harmed her unborn baby?

      The thought brought a wave of nausea as the steady swirl of red-and-blue lights echoed in Portia’s peripheral vision. How much longer until those emergency vehicles wove their way closer?

      She was responsible for the life growing inside her. The life she had to protect. A little boy or little girl—

      And thank goodness, one of the EMS trucks stopped on the shoulder of the road just one car up. Since there wasn’t a line of others who appeared in need of emergency care, she pushed away from the light pole and moved toward the ambulance.

      Smoothing her sundress in an excuse to steady her hands, she approached the younger of the two EMTs. The gold name tag read Valez.

      “Uh, sir?” Stammering, she twisted her fingers together, a flush crawling across her face.

      “Yes, ma’am?” Valez, a man in his midthirties with a jet-black mustache, asked, gesturing toward the back of the ambulance.

      “I feel fine. But...” Oh Lord. This was the first time she would talk about her pregnancy out loud. “I’m pregnant and I just want to make sure everything is alright.”

      The rest of the sentence flew out of her mouth, the reality of her situation echoing back to her.

      “You did the right thing in coming over here, ma’am. Please, sit down. We’ll get you checked out. If you need additional care, we’ll transport you to the nearest hospital. But let’s hope that’s not needed. Okay?” He lifted her wrist and began taking her pulse. “So just relax and let’s talk. How far along are you?” He glanced at her while waving a hand for the other EMT to come over. The older gentleman handed Valez a bag filled with equipment.

      “Umm. Well, not quite two months. But fairly close to that point.” Portia’s voice was a whisper, nearly covered by the sounds of car horns and conversations.

      Valez’s brow furrowed, reaching for his stethoscope. “And so far, your pregnancy is going well?”

      “Yes.”

      He checked her pulse, nodding to her. “So far, your vitals seem just fine.”

      Deep breath out. Good. “What should I watch for?”

      Handing

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