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“I might be able to help you.”
The subtly accented baritone, as deep and sensual as the purr of a tiger, vibrated along Tessa’s nerves.
The man standing behind her was strikingly tall with dark hair and the coldest slate-colored eyes she’d ever seen. His chiseled features—a square jaw, straight nose and high Slavic cheekbones—were too strong to be called handsome, but his very presence exuded power and masculinity.
He was a stranger—surely she’d remember if she’d ever met such a man. But something about him seemed familiar.
Tessa found her voice. “I beg your pardon,” she said. “Did you just offer to help me?”
“I couldn’t help overhearing,” he said. “I’ll be taking off for Anchorage in a few minutes. There’s plenty of room in the plane. You’re welcome to come along.”
There had to be a catch. She would never get into a car with a strange man. Would getting into a plane, especially with her precious babies, be any different?
“My plane’s a private craft.” He spoke as if sensing her hesitation. “But I happen to be a co-owner of this charter company. They can vouch for me.” He spoke like a man accustomed to getting his own way.
How could she refuse, when this might be her only chance to get to Anchorage with the twins?
“Yes,” Tessa said, taking the plunge. “I’d be happy to accept your very kind offer.”
* * *
Stranded with the Boss is part of the No.1 bestselling series from Mills & Boon® Desire™—Billionaires and Babies: Powerful men … wrapped around their babies’ little fingers.
Stranded with the Boss
Elizabeth Lane
ELIZABETH LANE has lived and traveled in many parts of the world, including Europe, Latin America and the Far East, but her heart remains in the American West, where she was born and raised. Her idea of heaven is hiking a mountain trail on a clear autumn day. She also enjoys music, animals and dancing. You can learn more about Elizabeth by visiting her website at www.elizabethlaneauthor.com.
Contents
Seattle, Washington Late September
“Are you telling me that lawsuit’s still going to trial?” Dragan Markovic glowered from behind his massive desk. “We’ve offered the blasted woman everything short of the moon. Why won’t she settle?”
The young lawyer, part of the Trans Pacific corporate team, was visibly nervous. He fiddled with his pen. A bead of sweat gleamed on his forehead. “According to her attorney, it’s not just about money. Miss Randall wants the public to know how unfairly she was treated. She’s determined to make sure no female employee is ever again fired because of pregnancy.”
Dragan’s scowl darkened. “She wasn’t fired because she was pregnant. I was given to understand that Miss Randall was fired because she couldn’t perform her job.”
“That’s what we’ll be telling the judge. Her work involved trips to the Far East. The pregnancy was too high-risk for that kind of travel.”
“So why wasn’t she given a desk job for the duration?”
The lawyer flinched. “That’s what her lawyer is going to argue. The firing was her supervisor’s call. It seems there was some friction between them.”
With a muttered curse Dragan rose from his massive leather chair and turned to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling window. His top-floor, corner office gave him a sweeping view of the Seattle waterfront, lined by acres of warehouses, piers and gigantic cranes. Two huge container ships, with the Trans Pacific logo on their bows, were moored along the company dock waiting to be loaded with cargo. Beyond them, the gray waters of Puget Sound lay shrouded in September fog.
Dammit, he had a company to run. He didn’t have time to deal with Miss Tessa Randall—a woman he’d never met, nor cared to—and the lawsuit that threatened to smear Trans Pacific’s reputation in the media. Why couldn’t she just take the money, sign the nondisclosure agreement and go away?
“As I remember hearing, she gave birth to twins,” he said.
“That’s right. Identical twin girls. Sixteen months ago.” The lawyer wiped his glasses and replaced them. “They were born seven weeks early. By then her insurance had been terminated. The medical expenses—”
“We’ve offered to cover those,” Dragan snapped.
“I know. But her lawyer’s talking about demanding punitive damages, claiming the stress of losing her job caused Miss Randall to go into premature labor a month later.”
“Can they prove that?”
“They’ll no doubt try. This could get nasty—and expensive.” The lawyer shuffled his papers. “If I could offer a suggestion, Mr. Markovic?”
“Go ahead.”
“I know you don’t like getting involved in these matters.