Playboy Boss, Pregnancy of Passion. Kate Hardy
grimaced. ‘Sorry. I don’t have a shred of manners. I apologise—and of course what I just said doesn’t apply to you. I’m really pleased for you both.’
‘You’d better be,’ Karim said, ‘as you’re going to be an honorary uncle.’
For all Luke knew, he might already be an uncle.
He blocked the thought. The decision he’d made was harsh, but it was also the only one he could have made. If he’d stayed, he would’ve gone under and ended up like the rest of the men in his family.
Doing time.
‘Thank you,’ he said politely. ‘I’m very honoured. When’s the baby due?’
‘Six months.’ Lily laughed. ‘You’re really trying hard to say the right thing, aren’t you, honey?’ She ruffled his hair on her way to the fridge.
She was treating Luke as if he were her big brother and it made him feel odd. As if there were an empty space deep inside him. A space where he really wanted to be part of a big family.
Which was ridiculous. He was perfectly fine on his own. Much, much better than he had been as part of a family. Been there, done that, no intention of taking a backward step. ‘I’m only being nice because you’re cooking and I want to be fed,’ he retorted.
She laughed even more. ‘Don’t give me that. I know you’re just a pussycat.’
Karim was laughing, too; he’d scooped his wife onto his lap and he had both hands resting protectively round her abdomen.
Luke joined in the fun. ‘For you, Lily, I could be.’ Then he grinned. ‘But unfortunately you have a husband who might not be too happy about that, so I’ll settle for being fed.’
‘Your wish is my command,’ Lily teased back. ‘So what’s wrong? Your secretary’s got morning sickness?’
‘And lunchtime sickness. And afternoon sickness. My office is a mess, she hasn’t been there to do a proper handover to the temps—when they turn up, that is—and neither have I, and…’ He broke off and shook his head in exasperation. ‘I’ve had enough of the chaos. I’ve sent Di home for the rest of her pregnancy.’
Lily looked worried. ‘Luke, I don’t mean to interfere, but…is that legal?’
Luke knew exactly what she wasn’t asking. ‘Don’t worry, Lily,’ he said dryly. ‘She’s on full pay and her job’s open until she decides what she wants to do. But right now she’s not capable of doing her job properly and it’s unfair to expect her to keep up with me when she’s feeling so rough. And I need someone who can sort this mess out before I lose any more opportunities.’
‘Someone who’s a good organiser.’ Lily looked thoughtful. ‘I might just be able to help you out there. My favourite supplier, Louisa—her sister’s a freelance office troubleshooter.’
‘A what?’ Luke asked.
‘Organised, efficient, and good at sorting things out. You know those reality TV programmes about people who come to your house and make you sort out your clutter? Well, that’s apparently what Sara does in real life. Except in an office. And she does the sorting out for you.’
If the woman was no good, Lily wouldn’t have mentioned her. Luke knew that Lily realised the importance of business networking—that your recommendations reflected on you. And this sounded like the solution he needed. ‘Do you have her number?’
‘No, but I’ve got her sister’s, which is the next best thing.’ Lily disappeared for a couple of minutes, then returned with a card. ‘Here.’
Luke read the card. ‘Fleet Organics.’
‘They do apple juice, apple balsamic vinegar and—well, everything else you’d expect from an organic orchard,’ Lily explained. ‘Ask for Louisa, tell her I gave you the number and say that you need to talk to Sara.’
‘Thanks.’ He slid the card into his wallet. ‘And if this troubleshooting woman’s that good…’
‘She might be busy,’ Lily warned.
‘Hmm, that’s what someone told Karim about you. But he still charmed you into cooking for him,’ Luke reminded her with a grin. ‘I’ll call her. See what she can do for me. Thanks for the tip.’
Lily checked something in the oven. ‘OK, it’s done. Go through to the dining room, you two.’
Karim and Luke did her bidding.
Luke took a first mouthful of the food. ‘Lily, this is wonderful. If you ever decide you’re bored with being a princess, you can come and be my housekeeper.’
‘She won’t be bored,’ Karim informed him. ‘Find your own princess.’
‘I’m not a prince,’ Luke countered. ‘And I don’t need a princess.’ What he wanted was a good assistant at work, a part-time housekeeper who would sort things while he was out and wouldn’t nag him about being a slob, and a string of girlfriends who wanted to have fun and accepted the fact that he wasn’t looking for anything permanent.
Apart from the assistant problem—which, hopefully, this office troubleshooter would help him fix—that was exactly how his life was, at that moment.
And it suited him just fine.
CHAPTER ONE
SARA checked the address in her diary. Yes, this was the place. A former warehouse converted to a mixed-use residential, office and retail block, all sparkling clean brick and lots of glass. The ground floor was full of bijou shops and coffee bars—she made a mental note to check them out later, and drop in some of the family business cards—and she guessed that the top two floors were offices. It looked as if the architect had taken advantage of a partially collapsed roof at one end and had put up a tower with one wall of sheer glass—though it had been sympathetically done and looked in keeping with the building. That, she guessed, was the residential part of the building; the rooms on the side with the glass wall would have stunning views of the Thames.
You’d need a small fortune to be able to afford that sort of flat. But, hey, she was fine with the room she’d begged in her oldest brother’s flat. Just because she didn’t have a place of her own, it didn’t mean she was a failure. She had a family who loved her as much as she loved them, a great social life and a job she enjoyed. She didn’t need anything else.
She took the stairs to the first floor, where a receptionist sat behind a light wood desk.
‘Can I help you?’
‘I have an appointment to see Luke Holloway. Sara Fleet,’ she said.
‘Through the corridor, last door on the right,’ the receptionist said with a smile.
Luke Holloway. He’d sounded crisp on the phone, the kind of man who knew what he wanted and didn’t waste time. Which made it all the more surprising that he needed an office troubleshooter. She usually dealt with people who stuffed things into drawers and scribbled things on sticky notes which they promptly lost and didn’t have a clue what a filing system or diary was—and Luke hadn’t given her that impression when he’d asked her to meet him at his office. So what kind of man was he?
Well, she was about to find out for herself.
The last door on the right was closed. She knocked and waited.
‘Come in.’ The voice sounded slightly harassed.
She’d been expecting someone in a sharp suit and handmade shoes; the man leaning back in a chair, talking on the phone with his feet on the desk, looked more like a rock star. He was wearing a black round-necked sweater that she guessed was cashmere, teamed with black trousers, and his short dark hair was expensively tousled—the kind of haircut that made him look as if he’d just got out of bed. Teamed with eyes the colour of cornflowers and the most sensual mouth she’d ever seen, it was enough