A Baby by Chance Read online

  Which was something he was clearly looking forward to doing, Madison thought. Probably in just as intimate a fashion!

  She was upset because he’d made her feel vulnerable. She bristled as she tugged on her clothes. “Come on, Chance.” She slid her feet into her shoes. “We’re both adults here.”

  He lifted a brow. “That’s what I thought.”

  It didn’t matter what had happened today, Madison told herself. She could get past it the same way she had gotten past any other problem in her life. She regarded him levelly. “We are going to put this behind us, Chance. Forget it ever happened.”

  Madison expected Chance to jump at the graceful out she was giving him, to bring this reckless, passionate incident to a close and be very happy they would never have to think about such an embarrassing episode again. But he didn’t.

  To her dismay, he lounged even more comfortably on the bed. “Now, why on this green earth would we want to do that?”

  “Because I am not in the market for anything more,” Madison explained impatiently. And there was good reason for that. From what she’d seen, getting involved in passionate love affairs seemed to turn people’s lives upside down. Whereas she liked her life just fine the way it was. All work and very little play. Her work had never let her down in any way. Her work was a great lover to have and—unlike play—provided great benefits.

  “You know what I think?” Chance retorted, still studying her.

  “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” Madison said, catching sight of her disheveled hair and kiss-swollen lips in the bureau mirror. Embarrassed by how thoroughly loved she looked, she picked up a brush and began running it through the tousled layers of her hair.

  “I think you’re afraid we might have found something special here—”

  Madison shot him a look over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “Chance, please!”

  “—and you don’t know what to do with that.”

  Madison dropped the brush with a thunk. She whirled to face him. No sexy cowboy, no matter how intuitive, was going to analyze her. “Oh, I don’t, do I?” Madison asked.

  Chance nodded. “And you know why? Because it upsets all the tidy little plans you’ve already made.”

  “You’re right,” Madison agreed calmly, refusing to admit to herself how sexy he still looked, lounging around that way, or how much she wanted to forget all this and climb right back into bed with him. “I don’t like distractions. They disrupt my ability to do business. Fortunately, I managed to do what I was sent here to do—snag you as spokesperson for the Ranchero account.” Furthermore, Madison reminded herself sternly, she wasn’t the first woman he’d made love to here. The box of condoms he’d had at the ready told her that. And she probably wouldn’t be the last, either. Only a fool would make their lovemaking out to be more than a casual roll in the hay for him, and she was no fool.

  Chance regarded her disparagingly. Obviously that was not what he had expected or wanted to hear from her so soon after they’d made love, even if it was the truth. “I should have known that was all you wanted,” he muttered beneath his breath.

  What she wanted, Madison thought as she went into her room and returned with the contracts she’d stuck in her suitcase, was to get rid of this warm and fuzzy feeling he’d given her. What she wanted was to stop glowing all over.

  It was time to get back to something she could control.

  She walked into the bedroom and handed Chance the contracts. “Everything is spelled out pretty plainly,” she said.

  Chance grimaced as he flipped through them. “So I see.”

  Madison perched on the far end of the bed. “The AMV executives are going to want to meet with you in Dallas as soon as possible. You’ll get your signing bonus then. In the meantime, since you’ve already agreed to do this,” Madison reminded him nicely when it seemed, for one heart-stoppingly tense moment, that he might be going to renege on his promise to her, “I’d like you to sign on the dotted line now.”

  She handed Chance a pen.

  He made a few changes in the margins, then scrawled his signature on the bottom.

  “You won’t regret this,” Madison told him enthusiastically.

  He looked at her as if he already did.

  Wordlessly, Chance flung the sheet away from him. Gloriously naked, gloriously handsome, he rose. “You better leave.”

  He tugged his jeans over his hips, then zipped them swiftly.

  Madison sighed and tore her eyes from his ruggedly imposing form. Damn it. He was back to being the impossible cowpoke again. “We have to go over all this,” she told him. “We need to set a date for the meeting. Arrange for your travel—”

  “Not now, Madison,” Chance said gruffly.

  Madison was not about to be put off, not after all the hard work she’d done and the month she’d spent chasing him. “Give me a break here, Chance.” Once again, she pulled out the smile she reserved for her most difficult clients. “I know this is a bit awkward.” She was struggling with the fact they’d just made love. “But you should at least give me an opportunity to—”

  “Oh, I gave you an opportunity, all right.” Chance spun around. He glared at her as he shoved his arms through his shirt and buckled his belt. “I gave you plenty of opportunity. And, lady, you blew it.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  URSULA RODRIGUEZ, THE marketing director in charge of the AMV corporation’s new Ranchero pickup truck, studied the photos Madison put in front of her with a critical eye. “I thought Chance Cartwright was supposed to be at this meeting today,” Ursula said with a frown. As always, her jet black hair was pulled into a sleek chignon, her makeup flawless, her jewelry stylish but understated. She wore a sleek black Armani pantsuit that complimented her thin, statuesque form.

  “He was,” Madison said.

  Ursula’s dark eyes flashed in disapproval. “So where is he?”

  I don’t have a clue, Madison thought unhappily. Chance had been ducking her phone calls and ignoring her messages since she’d left Wyoming several weeks ago, signed contract in hand. “He called and left a message on my voice mail late last night...something about a problem with a horse he was training. He said he was not going to be here today.” And that was all he’d said.

  Ed Connelly—the president and founding partner of Connelly and Associates—sent Madison a narrow glance that spoke volumes about his displeasure with her. “Cartwright understood how important it is for him to make himself accessible to us?” Ed barked.

  Madison nodded. “I’ve explained it to him, yes.” Countless times. In person, on his answering machine, via letter, fax, telegram and express mail. Madison knew Chance was a decent guy. Her research had told her that. He honored his business commitments.

  And this was business.

  “And...” Ursula tapped her pen against the table.

  “And he’s not an easy man to handle,” Madison explained.

  “You managed to get him to sign on the dotted line,” Ed said.

  Yes, but that was all she’d managed to make him do thus far, Madison thought. “I’ll see it doesn’t happen again,” she promised. If she had to go to Wyoming and haul Chance back with her in person.

  Ursula stood and closed her Filofax with a decisive snap. “You’ve got until the end of the week to get Cartwright to Dallas. Then we go with another firm. One that doesn’t promise what they can’t deliver.” She spun around on her heel and exited the office in a cloud of Shalimar perfume.

  As she watched her boss shut the door to the conference room, Madison felt ill. Ed Connelly turned to Madison, who had remained standing. “Who else have you got lined up to back up Cartwright?” he demanded brusquely.

  No one, Madison thought in mounting frustration. Nor did she want anyone else for the commercial. She wet her lips, aware the stress of the meeting had left her feeling just the tiniest bit nauseated. “Men of Chance Cartwright’s caliber aren’t easy to find.” Boy, was that an understatement, she thought,
recalling how exquisitely Chance had made love to her. She hadn’t known lovemaking could be like that, so potent and all-encompassing. Aware she was digressing yet again—a common occurrence when it came to Chance, the kind of sexy cowboy who inspired daydreams—Madison forced her thoughts to the task at hand. Surreptitiously blotting her damp hairline with her fingertips, she said, “As you just saw, Ursula wants the real thing, not some drugstore cowboy who doesn’t know the back end of a horse from the front.”

  Ed ran a hand over his balding head. “Of course she does,” he exploded, exasperated. “You sold her on the idea of using a sexy, well-known rancher to sell the Ranchero. And it was a damn good idea, too. Who better to promote the fact it’s American made and environmentally friendly? But if this cowboy proves unreliable, we’ve got to replace him.”

  Madison had an idea that was exactly what Chance Cartwright was counting on. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple.

  Feeling a little dizzy, she curved her hand over the back of the chair to steady herself. She took a deep, bolstering breath, willing her nausea away as she met Ed’s distressed gaze. She could get through the rest of this meeting; it was silly to think she couldn’t. “I can find real ranchers in abundance, Ed. No problem. Sexy, handsome men who would look good in a pickup. Also no problem. We just looked at the portfolios of darn near thirty of them. But to find a sexy, single, talented man who really makes his living that way, who has the respect of everyone in the ranching and horse training community, who also just happens to rub elbows with the rich and famous and owns his own ranch on some of the most beautiful land in all Wyoming—to find someone who’s a ladies’ man and a man’s man all rolled into one—well, that’s something else indeed.”

  “Then you better find a way to get Cartwright in line,” Ed ordered flatly.

  Her knees had turned to jelly. Like it or not, Madison had to sit down before she fell down. Doing her best to look calm and in control, she eased into her chair, dropping her notepad on her lap. “I’ll book a flight to Wyoming immediately.” Despite the fact she was sitting down, the rubbery feeling in Madison’s knees intensified and her stomach began to take on an increasingly queasy feeling.

  Ed jerked loose the knot of his tie and gulped coffee like it was going out of style. “ I don’t have to tell you how much money is at stake here.”

  Just thinking about the potential loss of revenue for the agency made Madison grimace.

  Ed, who was nothing if not a straight shooter, folded his hands in front of him and told her bluntly, “Land the account for us, Madison, and the VP slot opening up in September is yours—no question. Lose it and...” Ed let his voice trail off.

  The sick feeling inside Madison moved up to her throat. There was no helping it; she was going to have to cut this meeting short. “Excuse me—” Leaping from her chair, her hand over her mouth, Madison dashed from Ed’s office.

  * * *

  “I’VE HEARD OF the pressure to succeed around here making people sick,” Kit Smith remarked, “but this is ridiculous.”

  Madison looked up from the rim of the commode in the executive washroom. Her copper-haired colleague with the maternal air wet a paper towel and hunkered beside Madison on the gleaming marble floor. Wordlessly, Kit helped Madison—who was perspiring profusely—take her suit jacket off. She hung it over the back of the door and returned with a paper cup of cold water that she pressed into Madison’s hands. “Uncle Ed said you ran out of his office, your hand over your mouth.”

  “It had nothing to do with what we were discussing.” Ignoring the tears seeping from the corners of her eyes, Madison pressed a cold, damp paper towel to the back of her neck.

  “Good. Because I wouldn’t want you to worry about me usurping the VP slot. I want one, too, now that the twins are about to enter college. Make no mistake about that. But not in your place.”

  Kit knelt beside Madison. “Think it was something you had for lunch?” she asked gently.

  “Maybe.” Madison took a small sip of water, rested her forehead on her upraised hand. She sighed. This wasn’t the first time she’d battled nausea recently. “Then again, maybe it’s just stress. I’ve been feeling strange for weeks now.” Deciding she felt better, Madison struggled to her feet with Kit’s help.

  Kit helped Madison, who was now shivering slightly, put her jacket on. “Ill how?”

  Madison shrugged and walked, albeit a little unsteadily, to the sink. “Woozy, dizzy, tired.” She bent and rinsed her mouth, then rummaged around for the travel-size toothbrush and toothpaste she carried in her purse. “All I want to do is sleep.”

  Kit shook her head. “If I didn’t know better, kiddo, I’d think you were pregnant, but you’d need a man in your life for that. Unless—” Kit paused. “You didn’t go the artificial insemination route, did you?”

  No. But she had recklessly made love with Chance at what would have been her most fertile time of month, Madison realized uncomfortably. They’d used a condom, of course. But...was it possible? Pushing the unsettling thought away, Madison threw the paper towel in the trash, put her toothbrush and toothpaste back in her purse.

  “Maybe you should see your doctor before you head back to Wyoming,” Kit suggested.

  “Good idea,” Madison said. One way or another, she had to know.

  * * *

  THE SUN WAS shining brightly as Madison drove through the gates of Chance Cartwright’s Double Diamond Ranch shortly after noon the next day. The meadows in the distance were alive with tall yellow grass and multicolored wildflowers, and the tops of the granite mountains were white against the bold blue of the summer sky. Late July, it was hotter than it had been when she had been there before, the temperature inching into the eighties. As Madison neared the house, she saw a van from the Lost Springs Ranch and a group of teenage boys in T-shirts, boots, jeans and hats mucking out stalls and grooming the horses with long, patient strokes. Chance was standing in the pasture closest to the house, instructing two of his part-time workers as they exercised his horses. They looked as if they were having the time of their lives. Chance looked equally happy. Until he saw her, that was.

  He said something to the boys, then turned and strode toward her as two blue jays swooped down on them from overhead and disappeared in the cottonwood trees by the ranch house.

  Her heart racing, a million butterflies jumping around inside her stomach, Madison emerged from the car, deliberately keeping her sunglasses on. Wanting to immediately telegraph the fact she’d come to make peace with him, she’d taken care to dress in jeans, boots and cotton shirt. Still, her hands were sweaty as his long legs ate up the ground between them.

  Sweat dripped down his face, and the fabric of his blue chambray shirt was damp in patches. He was more deeply suntanned than he had been the last time she had seen him. And there was a wariness in his eyes when he looked at her that was new, too.

  He tipped his hat in cursory politeness as he neared her. “Miss Burnes.”

  Madison nodded, dismayed to realize he wasn’t nearly as happy to see her again as she was to see him. Because despite everything, she still desired him. “Mr. Cartwright.” Her tone was the low, exceedingly pleasant one she reserved for her most difficult clients.

  He regarded her grimly. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  Madison gave him a parody of a smile as she whipped off her sunglasses so he could see her eyes. “I figured if you’d known I was coming, you would have been sure to duck out.”

  Chance rubbed his jaw and tried not to grin at her cheeky attitude. “Missed a few of your phone calls, have I?” he taunted.

  “As well as a command appearance in Dallas.” Which you very well know. He let his gaze rove insolently over her from head to toe, and Madison drew a long breath. She figured she might as well be blunt. It didn’t matter if this was awkward. Or something she’d rather not do. She wasn’t going to be like her father. She wasn’t going to lie just to make things easier and less complicated for herself. Because dishone
sty never worked. “You know you could be fired as the Ranchero spokesperson for behaving this way.”

  “Is that a fact?” Chance drawled, not the least bit upset by her warning.

  Temper simmering, Madison stepped closer until they stood toe to toe. Was this what it was going to be like—Chance passively resisting her at every turn? “We had a deal, Chance,” she reminded him bluntly.

  As Chance looked at her, Madison had the sharp suspicion he wanted to haul her against him until they were situated like lock and key. “I agreed to sign your papers so we’d have more time to spend together.”

  “In bed,” Madison guessed grimly, sure she knew where all this was leading.

  “And out of bed,” Chance said, looking very much as if he wanted to make long, slow, passionate love to her again. “When you made it clear that wasn’t going to happen—” he shrugged his broad shoulders restlessly “—you might say I lost interest.” The corners of his mouth tilted up. “I’m never a very good worker when I lose interest.”

  “So find a way to get interested,” Madison advised curtly, infuriated to find he was not going to keep his promise to her. She’d thought—erroneously, it appeared—that Chance was different from most men in that respect.

  Chance looked at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “Now, Miss Burnes,” he scolded facetiously. “Are you propositioning me?”

  “No!” Madison retorted, apparently too quickly and vehemently to be believed.

  His sexy smile widened at the growing heat in her upturned face. A challenging gleam appeared in his blue eyes. “Then why are you here?”

  Madison blew out a thoroughly exasperated breath. “Because I’m trying to save my career.”

  The mirth faded from his eyes as swiftly as it had appeared. “Knowing you,” he said disparagingly, “I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

  He took her by the arm and started to lead her to her car. Aware he was about to suggest she leave, Madison dug in her heels. She didn’t want to tell him this now. She knew he’d perceive it in the worst possible way. But she’d come all this distance and she had no choice. If there was even a slim chance the news would make him the least bit cooperative, for all their sakes, she had to use it. “I’m pregnant.”