Baby for the Billionaire - By Maxine Sullivan Page 0,154
that by holding her close, her warmth and softness filled a chasm that he hadn’t even been aware of having.
Last time she’d asked to be held, he hadn’t been ready. He’d been too full of grief.
But now he was ready.
Slowly he inhaled her sweet, feminine scent and realized that he never wanted to let her go. That she had crept into his life, into his heart. That she had become a part of him.
By the time she pulled away, Connor knew that the healing had finally begun.
Victoria stepped into Bridget Edge’s office the following morning and shut the door behind her with a gentle thud. She’d given much thought to what she was about to do. After the shock of her father’s heart attack and Connor’s surprising tenderness in the aftermath, she’d come to the conclusion it was the only option open to her.
Entering the large office that was the domain of the managing partner made her feel a little like a schoolgirl appearing in front of the head mistress. And the steely look in Bridget’s gaze did little to ease the butterflies already fluttering in Victoria’s stomach.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Bridget, I’ve come to give you my resignation.”
“Have a seat.” Bridget waved to the chair opposite her, barely glancing at the white envelope Victoria set down on the desk. “You’re very valuable to us. Why do you want to leave?”
With a sigh, Victoria settled into the chair. “I need some time to straighten my life out. We’ll also need to sort out what’s to be done about my share in the partnership.”
The older woman took off her stylish, dark-rimmed glasses and set them down on her gleaming cherrywood desk. “You’ve been under a great deal of emotional stress—and your role here at Archer, Cameron & Edge is very demanding.”
Victoria nodded, relieved that Bridget understood her position. “I’m failing Dylan, too.”
“And Connor North?” Bridget’s brows rose. “Where does he fit in?”
That was the most difficult question of all. Victoria wasn’t sure of the answer herself.
Oh, Connor. Closing her eyes, she said, “He thinks I’m a terrible mother.”
And not the wife he wanted. What was going to happen to their marriage still needed to be resolved, and Victoria wasn’t looking forward to that discussion, either. Connor had been tiptoeing around her sensibilities since the news of her father’s heart attack, and hadn’t raised the subject again. But despite his gentleness, it would have to be dealt with.
Victoria hoped that her resignation from ACE would make Connor reconsider, that it would convince him how seriously she took her commitment to mothering Dylan.
“It’s far from easy juggling a demanding career and being the perfect wife and mother. We women have such high expectations of ourselves.”
Victoria gave a tired laugh, and opened her eyes. “You can say that again. I had such grand intentions.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Victoria.” Bridget sat forward in her tall leather chair. “It’s been a traumatic time for you—inheriting a baby, acquiring a husband and keeping up with your workload. I’m quite a fan of yours, you know.”
Staring at Bridget in disbelief, she said slowly, “No, I didn’t know. I thought I’d disappointed you, too.”
“Not at all.” Bridget gave her a smile. “I admired you two years ago when you told me that you were going to be an egg donor so that your best friend could have a baby. You were worried that I would be unhappy because the process would take time from your work.”
“Yes.” She’d been very concerned. Being a donor had been physically and emotionally taxing and had taken up time that had cut into her workday. “But you never objected once—aside from suggesting that I have counseling to make sure that I would be able to separate myself from the baby once it was born.”
“At the time I thought it unlikely that you would ever have children—you didn’t seem to have much of a life outside work. I thought that the baby might be your only one.”
Victoria watched as Bridget glanced at a photo on her desk, then back at her.
“You probably don’t know I was engaged once.”
“No, I didn’t.” Victoria had perceived Bridget as having no life away from ACE Accounting. She couldn’t help wondering what had gone wrong with the engagement.
Bridget must have seen the questions in her eyes. “We were touring, on a motorcycle. He drove, I rode pillion. There was an accident—an oncoming driver overtaking recklessly. They told me I was lucky. I broke my back—he died.”