The Millionaire's Pregnant Mistress. Michelle Celmer
Tess had been working her tail off at a job that she quite frankly despised, for far less money than she deserved. Didn’t she deserve a break? Hadn’t she earned it?
She thought about Ben’s enormous house and what it would be like to live there. What it would be like to not have to get up at 5 a.m. and drag herself to work. To stay up late watching movies and eating popcorn. To sleep until noon. How it would feel to relax and enjoy her pregnancy.
So maybe she wouldn’t have a lot of extra spending money. So what? She was used to getting by on a tight budget.
But if she did this, that would be it, she would be stuck with Ben for five long months. Although, if she had to be stuck with someone, she could have done a lot worse.
“Well?” Mrs. Montgomery said tightly, expecting an answer.
“No,” Tess said. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Her boss’s eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”
That wasn’t true. For the first time in her life, Tess actually did have a choice.
What it all came down to was, what was best for her child? She grew up with nothing. Ben had everything. She wanted something in between for her baby.
If she accepted Ben’s offer, the baby would never want for life’s basic necessities, never feel threatened or abused. Her child would go to good schools and get a college education, would have all the opportunities she never had.
Ben could give them that, if she just had a little faith.
She still wasn’t one hundred percent sure she could trust him, but she was so sick of feeling achy and tired and overworked. Maybe it was time she took a chance on him, the way he’d taken a chance on her.
She flashed her boss a smile, feeling that, for the first time in months, maybe she was doing the right thing. “I do have a choice, Mrs. Montgomery. And I choose to quit.”
Three
“Benjamin, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s someone here to see you.”
Ben looked up from the computer screen to find Mrs. Smith standing in his office doorway. She opened the door wider and behind her stood Tess.
Her cheeks were pink from the cold and her eyes bright. She was dressed in a denim skirt and a fuzzy olive sweater that was just tight enough to reveal her stomach was no longer flat. She looked good. In spite of himself, he smiled.
He couldn’t deny he was happy to see her. For reasons he probably shouldn’t be.
He rose from his seat. “You’re back.”
She nodded and flashed him a tentative smile. “I’m back.”
Mrs. Smith shot Ben a stern look. One that said she wasn’t crazy about this arrangement—which she’d made clear on more than one occasion in the past few days—and she still thought he was making a mistake. Then she stepped out and shut the door behind her.
“I take it you’ve made a decision?”
“I have,” she said. “I quit my job this morning. My bags are packed and I’m here to stay.”
The news was an enormous weight off his mind. Things were now under control. She and the baby were finally safe.
“I should probably warn you that my car committed suicide about a hundred feet down the driveway.”
“My condolences.”
She shrugged. “The carburetor was terminally ill. I don’t suppose you could spring for a new one. I’ll reimburse you.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
He might have worried it was just another scam, but he’d learned an awful lot about Tess these past few days. Since one could never be too careful in a situation like this, he’d hired a private detective to check her out. He’d found nothing in her past to indicate foul play. She had no criminal record, no past deviant or questionable activity. Nothing to suggest she might be conning him. Tess was exactly who she appeared to be. A hardworking woman just doing her best to get by. She had never wanted more from him than a little financial help.
With that knowledge, something deep in his soul felt oddly settled.
Not that he expected this to be easy. Making love with Tess had made him feel alive for the first time in months—had given him hope that he had a chance for happiness again. But even if he’d asked her to stay that night, if he’d let himself fall for her, a child would have never been part of the deal. Seeing Tess’s growing belly would be a constant reminder of everything he’d lost.
He’d loved Jeanette, but she was gone. He’d accepted that. It was losing his son that still stung like a fresh wound. A slash through his heart that would never stop bleeding.
In some ways he felt ready to move on, in others he was still trapped in the past.
“So,” Tess asked, dropping into the chair across from his desk, “how exactly is this going to work?”
“It will be exactly as we discussed the other day. You’ll stay here with me until it’s born. Afterward I’ll set you and the baby up in a condo with a generous trust.”
She gazed intently at him, as if she were trying to see into his head, to be sure what he said was true.
The color of her sweater seemed to draw out the yellow in her irises. He remembered thinking that night in the bar how unusual they were. How bright and full of curiosity, and maybe a little sad.
He’d watched her for a while before approaching her, fascinated by her petite, striking features. By her warm, genuine smile as she chatted with the bartender. And when she looked his way, and their eyes met and locked, there had been enough sparks to melt the snow on the entire mountain. It hit him with such force that it had nearly knocked him out of his chair.
Even now there was something about the woman that messed with his head.
“Sounds almost too good to be true,” she said.
“Meaning…?”
“Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but…”
“But you don’t trust me,” he said, and she gave him a sheepish shrug. “I’m not offended. Put in your position, I wouldn’t trust me, either.”
“Honestly, you seem like an okay guy. A little overbearing maybe…It’s just that I’m giving up an awful lot here. I’m watching my back, you know? I don’t really know anything about you.”
He understood completely. He would never enter into a business agreement on a handshake deal. “I’ve already spoken to my attorney about drawing up a contract.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “And I’m supposed to trust this attorney?”
“You’re free to have the attorney of your choice look over the documents before you sign anything—at my expense of course.”
“I guess that sounds fair.”
“I should warn you that my lawyer has insisted on a confidentiality clause.”
“Confidentiality? Who am I going to tell?”
“This is as much for yours and the baby’s protection as mine. It was abhorrent the way the media exploited my wife’s death. For months after, they made my life a living hell. There was an unauthorized biography written about her life and a made-for-television movie. Neither was what you could consider flattering, or had barely an ounce of truth. Trust me when I say that you don’t ever want to know what that’s like.”
“When I found out from the girls at work who you were, I went to the library and did a little research.”
“What kind of research?”
“Old