LITMIR.BIZ

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on work that she often forgot to eat. It must be the hormones.

      Were hot dogs bad for babies? She didn’t have time to read the pamphlets before making a decision about lunch, so CeCe bought one. As she finished paying, the Mercedes stopped at the curb. She had to rush and fold herself inside, briefcase, wiener and all.

      “Where to, Miss Carradigne?” asked Paulo, the family’s chauffeur.

      “The office, please.” CeCe checked her watch. It was after one o’clock, and she had a one-thirty meeting with Shane. “I’m afraid I’m running late.”

      Paulo zipped through tiny openings in traffic with a race-car driver’s skill. If anyone could get her to work on time, it would be him.

      Shane had no patience for being kept waiting. The last thing CeCe wanted was to arrive late and find herself already at a disadvantage.

      They’d concluded arrangements for their alliance a week after that indiscreet evening. Since then, the pair of them had maintained contact by fax and e-mail. However, now that they planned to seek a joint shipping contract with a Chinese toy company, they were meeting to discuss strategy.

      Should she tell him about the pregnancy? CeCe supposed Shane had a right to know. Yet she couldn’t see herself blurting out the bald fact of impending parenthood to the intense, self-made millionaire.

      Shane’s meteoric rise had put him on Top Ten lists at Forbes, Fortune and Newsweek. His rough-hewn good looks and reputation for dating around had put him on some very different Top Ten lists at Cosmopolitan and Redbook.

      Darn it, CeCe was not going to let the man intimidate her. As far as she was concerned, this was her baby, not his.

      After finishing the hot dog, she started to stuff the wrappings into a rubbish container, then realized her mother would notice them later. She stuck them in her briefcase instead, even though she knew her papers would smell like wiener for days. That was preferable to a lecture from Charlotte about nutrition.

      The thought of lectures from Charlotte inspired a question: Was there one for unplanned pregnancies? If so, CeCe wondered how long it lasted and whether she could arrange to have her secretary page her with an urgent call in the middle of it.

      At 1:29 p.m., they reached the nineteen-story DeLacey Shipping building on Broad Street, near the East River and, of course, the DeLacey Shipping terminal. CeCe scurried out of the car, thanked Paulo and raced for the lobby.

      Employees scattered from her path. A couple of clerical workers, whose medical benefits and holiday bonuses CeCe had increased last year, offered smiles and greetings. Several executives, having been threatened with demotions after she audited their departments, glowered.

      On the nineteenth floor, CeCe burst through double glass doors labeled Executive Vice President. Her secretary, Linzy Lamar, jumped up from the computer. A pleasant-looking divorcee´e in her thirties, she blended seamlessly into her role.

      “Mr. O’Connell is waiting in your office,” she said. “Also, your mother stopped by.”

      That was hardly big news, since Charlotte’s even larger office suite lay at the opposite end of the corridor. “Did she say why?”

      “No, Miss Carradigne.” The secretary, although a reserved woman, talked fast because she’d learned that otherwise she’d never get to finish her spiel. “She said she’ll drop by again when she has time. I put the new traffic study on your desk.” That was a compilation of data by DeLacey executives regarding potential problem areas, including trade routes and competitors.

      “Thank you,” CeCe said as she breezed past.

      She flung open the broad, polished-wood door into her office. Even in February, light flooded the expansive room overlooking the harbor.

      A large silhouette blocked one window. “I’ll get back to you,” Shane said into his cell phone, and clicked off. Frowning, he turned to face CeCe.

      Time stopped. Even the adrenaline rushing through her arteries slammed to a halt as their gazes met.

      The man’s fierce brown eyes pinned her with such force that CeCe could hardly breathe. In the two months since they’d seen each other, she’d forgotten the impact of Shane’s presence.

      His husky build and broad shoulders made most other men look scrawny. Even more impressive was the masculine confidence that showed in every movement.

      He tapped his watch. “You’re five minutes late. I have a busy schedule.”

      She rejected the idea of blaming her tardiness on traffic. “I was unavoidably delayed,” she said, and clapped her briefcase onto her broad desk.

      That was a mistake, because it forced out some air. Shane caught a whiff. “You stopped for lunch, I gather.”

      “I didn’t stop. I ate on the run.” CeCe grabbed the hot dog wrappers and dumped them in a wastebasket.

      “You’ll get indigestion.”

      I’m going to have indigestion for about seven more months, so what the heck? No, she scolded herself, that was not the best way to break her earth-shattering news. “That’s my problem.”

      Shane gave her a crooked grin, revealing a devastating dent in one cheek that sent heat flooding through CeCe’s body. Annoyed with herself, she unbuttoned her coat and tossed it onto a chair.

      “If you don’t want to discuss your eating habits, let’s get down to work.” He set his laptop computer on her conference table and flipped it open. “To date, Wuhan Novelty has cobbled together a variety of carriers to transport toys down the Yangtze River, across the Pacific and on to warehouses and stores. Add the fact that they’ve also begun selling directly on-line, and you’ve got a complicated mess.”

      “Which we can uncomplicate,” CeCe said.

      “Absolutely.” Swiftly, he outlined his plan for combining DeLacey’s shipping capacity with his fleet of trucks and planes to provide door-to-door service to North America.

      Sitting beside him at the conference table, CeCe felt the energy pulsing through Shane as he talked. If there were a bed in her office, she might be tempted to fall into it.

      Hadn’t she learned anything?

      “Your eyes are glazing over,” he said. “Am I boring you?”

      “Not at all,” CeCe said. “It’s a brilliant plan.”

      What she needed, she realized abruptly, was a brilliant plan of her own. Not to win the contract with Wuhan, but to introduce the subject of children.

      “Do you have anything to add?” Shane asked.

      “Toys!” she said.

      “Excuse me?”

      “They make toys.” It was the perfect lead-in.

      “I’m aware of that,” he said.

      As usual when CeCe’s mind was racing a mile a minute, an idea popped into it. “We’re going to do more than transport their product,” she said. “We’re going to give them free publicity and get some for ourselves.”

      “How do you propose to do that?” From the glint in his eye and the way he leaned forward, it was clear she’d engaged Shane’s interest.

      “As you know, if we get the contract, DeLacey will be buying a couple of new container ships,” CeCe said. “We’ll paint them—what are Wuhan’s corporate colors?”

      “Yellow and red,” Shane said.

      She should have known that, CeCe thought, hating to be caught short in even the smallest detail. “Great. Also, we’ll put their logo alongside ours and fly their flag right below ours. We’ll paint some of your planes and trucks, too. We want everybody to notice that DeLacey and O’Connell are bringing them toys.”

      “Like Santa Claus,” he suggested.

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