The Millionaire's Pregnant Mistress. Michelle Celmer
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MICHELLE CELMER
The Millionaire’s Pregnant Mistress
MILLS & BOON
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Though they aren’t likely to ever read this, I dedicate this book to my dogs Spunky, Rocko and Combat, and my cats PeeWee and Bubba. They love me unconditionally, keep me company when I’m lonely and always make me smile.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Coming Next Month
One
In her twenty-four years, Tess McDonald had made her share of bad judgment calls, but this one topped them all. All of her life she’d been determined not to turn out like her mother, but here she was, making the same stupid mistakes. Maybe it was destiny.
Or just dumb luck.
She stared up at the sprawling structure of marble and granite. Dark and foreboding under overcast, gloomy skies, it loomed before her like a castle out of a modern-day fairy tale. An enchanted castle where nothing was as it seemed and monsters lay in wait, ready to devour unsuspecting maidens. And what fairy tale would be complete without an embittered, cagey prince? A loner afflicted by some disfiguring curse, set free only by love in its purest form.
But Tess had abandoned the mystical for the practical a long time ago. Fairy tales weren’t real. There were no princes—cursed or otherwise—no enchanted castles and the only monster she knew was still living with her mother back in Utah.
She climbed the wide marble steps to the front door, and lifted a reluctant hand—come on Tess, just do it—and forced herself to press the bell. The hollow ring penetrated the massive, intricately carved double doors, kicking her heart into a frantic beat. Seconds ticked by as she waited for someone to answer. Seconds that felt like hours. When she’d almost convinced herself no one was home, the door opened.
She’d expected a maid or a butler, one in full uniform of course—possibly looking like Lurch from the Addams Family. Instead it was Ben, looking much like he had when they’d met.
Mysteriously and intriguingly dark.
His raven hair lay at his collar in silky waves and heavy lidded bedroom eyes in the darkest, richest shade of brown, studied her. Everything about him reeked of prestige and wealth, from the expensive looking black cashmere sweater and custom tailored slacks, to the tantalizing scent of his cologne.
She felt the same shiver of excitement as she had when she’d caught him staring at her from across the bar that night. Their eyes had met, and the heat penetrating in the dark, bottomless depths made her heart go berserk with anticipation.
The way it was now.
He hadn’t said a word. He’d just held out his hand in silent invitation and she’d taken it. He’d led her to the dance floor and when he pulled her into his arms, pressed her to the lean length of his body, she melted against him. Then he’d dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers.
Now, there were kisses, and there were kisses.
Kissing Ben had felt like two pieces of a puzzle locking together in a perfect fit. Her knees had gone weak, and the room had spun around her like a carousel. She knew in that instant that she would sleep with him. It wasn’t even a conscious decision. It was just something she had to do. An opportunity she would regret for the rest of her life if she let it pass.
She also knew that he was just interested in one night. The, I’m-not-looking-for-a-relationship line he fed her between kisses in the elevator on the way up to his room had been a big tip-off. She’d never expected to see him again.
Considering the look on his face now, neither had he.
She knew she should say something, but she couldn’t seem to make her mouth work. All she could do was stare, wondering if he knew who she was. If he remembered her. If he was wondering how she’d managed to track him down. She’d never been one to read the tabloids and she didn’t have cable television so it had been weeks later that she’d learned from the girls at work who he really was.
What he’d been hiding.
He wedged his shoulder in the doorjamb and folded his arms over his chest, looking her up and down, those dark eyes putting a chink in the man-resistant armor she wore these days.
“And here I thought you’d been abducted by aliens,” he finally said, in that velvety dark-chocolate voice.
Okay, so he did remember her.
He wasn’t really going to pretend she’d wronged him somehow, was he? To stay the night in his room would have only been delaying the inevitable. The morning brush-off. The gee-it-was-nice, have-a-good-life speech men like him were notorious for.
At the time, she didn’t think her heart could take that, because she had fallen stupidly and completely in love with Ben that night.
“You weren’t looking for a relationship,” she reminded him.
His eyes narrowed. The same bottomless pools she’d found so entrancing that night. How could she have known what he’d really been hiding behind that dark exterior?
The smoldering look in his eyes burned hotter. “I’m still not looking for a relationship.”
“I just came to talk. Can I come inside?”
Though he looked hesitant, he held the door open wider and stepped back, all but disappearing into the dark interior.
The rubber soles of her work shoes squeaked on the marble floor as she stepped inside the cavernous foyer, and hazy darkness swallowed her like a hungry beast. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, oddly shaped, ominous shadows crept soundlessly around her like restless spirits.
You don’t believe in spooks, she reminded herself.
The door closed behind her with a thud that bounced off the walls and echoed up the cathedral ceiling. Ben simply stood there, towering over her, arms folded over his chest, biceps straining against the sleeves of his shirt, his face hidden in shadow. His intimidating size, ropes of lean, corded muscle, were part of what had intrigued her that night, what had drawn her to him. As if she hadn’t learned her lesson so many times before. Dark angsty men were nothing but trouble.
But, boy they could be fun for a night or two.
He