The Expectant Secretary Read Free

she was definitely unconscious.
    Panic seized him. You, fool! he cursed himself. You pushed her to this. You pushed too damn hard!
    â€œJillie?” Concern edged his voice as he gave her a light shake.
    Pale and placid, her features frozen, she looked almost peaceful. Her shimmery blond hair splayed out across his shoulder. She stirred, a jerky movement, as if she were struggling to climb back to consciousness.
    Not knowing what else to do, he lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the conference table. Her slight frame felt as light as a biscuit his mother used to make. Her eyelids fluttered open. Once more he was struck by the vibrant blue-green color. The rich, vivid hues reminded him of the Coral Reef, beautiful to view, but sharp and dangerous.
    Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone? Why can’t you get her out of your mind? And heart?
    That’s one reason he’d agreed to come to Texas. He’d needed to see her again, needed to for his own survival. So he could go on with his life. Without her memory haunting him. Without his desire for her consuming him.
    â€œJillie,” he repeated. He’d used that nickname today, hoping to irritate her, hoping to hurt her as she’d hurt him so long ago. Memories assaulted him like a cyclone, sweeping in and destroying the protective walls he’d erected. His gut clenched.
    â€œJillie!” he demanded. “Wake up.” He had to put her down and get help.
    Before he could move, she shifted restlessly, arching her back against his arm and blinking against the harsh light. “I—I’m okay.”
    â€œI’ve got you.” His arms tightened around her shoulders and beneath her legs.
    She pushed a lock of honey-blond hair behind her ear but it fell back to curl just below her earlobe, softening the squareness of her jaw. “I’m okay,” she repeated, her voice weak and unsure. “Put me down.”
    â€œNot till I’m positive you’re all right.” He did as she requested and lowered her into a buttery-soft leather chair. “I’ll call for medical help.”
    â€œN-no.” Panic stretched her voice into a squeak. “I’m fine. Really.” She clutched the sleeve of his jacket. “Please, Brody.” The plea in her voice and the insistence in those startling blue-green eyes made him doubt his better judgment.
    But then, she’d undermined his sanity for years. When he’d learned his father’s half brother lived in Texas, when they’d decided to merge the family’s two companies and he was needed here, he’d come with an ulterior motive. To see Jillian again.
    He’d called her several months ago, reached her at her home in Amarillo to tell her he was coming. But something had been wrong. She’d sounded so far away, so distant, so sad. Maybe it had been the thousands of miles or simply the ten years deeper and wider than the oceans separating them. He’d hoped just hearing her voice would prove to him once and for all that he was over her. But it had done the exact opposite.
    He’d known then he’d had to find her. Even though she’d hung up on him, cutting him off before he’d had a chance to tell her he was coming to Texas. Now she was here. In San Antonio. In his arms.
    â€œSomething could be wrong,” he said to her, having the same anxiety as that day he’d briefly spoken to her over the phone, the same panic he’d experienced ten years ago when he’d gone to pick her up for a date and discovered she’d left for America. Something was wrong. Or maybe he was the one who needed help. “You should be seen by someone.”
    She shook her head. “It’s my fault. I didn’t have time to eat this morning. It’s just low blood sugar. That’s all.”
    He studied her for a moment, his gaze flicking over her from head to toe, noting the softer curves where once she’d been