Brides, Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters
had always hoped to be a mother someday, she’d intended to start that stage of her life by finding the right man to be a husband and father first. Had planned to bring her child into a home already filled with love and trust. How could she have any of that with Kirk? She didn’t love him—she barely knew him. And trust? Not a chance. The only positive traits she could assign to him were his appearance, his bedroom skills and the fact that he seemed to be a very capable boss. Her boss, in fact. And that added another layer of complication.
Sally wanted a life that was lived with purpose. One that yielded great results for others as well as for herself. She wanted to make a difference, and she ached to fulfill her potential. It’s what she’d spent at least eight years of her life studying for and even more time interning at Harrison IT for. And yet despite her dreams, she continued to remain in the background. Knowing she was being held back by her phobia was one thing, but having a baby added a whole other layer to things.
Kirk had spoken of his career plans, but what would this do to her long-term goals? No matter what anyone said, life was very different for a woman in the workplace. That glass ceiling was still well and truly in place, and there were few women in the upper echelons of management. She’d hoped that one day, if she could overcome her phobia, she might earn a position up there. That the people she worked with would respect that she’d climbed her way up that corporate ladder, striving as hard as the rest of them.
No one would take her seriously if she was married to the vice president. Any advancement in her career would be looked upon as being won because of who she was, not what she brought to the role.
“Look,” she started. “I’ve got a lot to think about, and you’re right—I’m tired and I need an early night. Would you go, please?”
“You promise me you’ll have something to eat?”
She gave him an are-you-serious look.
“Okay, okay,” he said, holding up one hand. “Don’t shoot me for caring. You have no idea what it was like to watch you crumple like that this morning.”
He made it sound like he actually cared.
“I will have something to eat.”
“I cook a mean omelet. If you have eggs, I could make it for you.”
Her mouth watered. “Fine,” she said, making a sudden decision. “I’m going to grab a shower. I’m not sure what’s in the fridge, but go knock yourself out.”
Maybe once he fed her, he’d stop hovering over her like some overprotective parent. She stopped in her tracks. But that’s exactly what he was—a parent—and so was she. She shook her head, went through to her bathroom and quickly stripped off her work clothes. She looked at herself in the mirror.
“Nothing to see here,” she murmured out loud.
But her hand settled on her lower belly, and for a moment she stopped to think about the changes that were happening inside. Changes that would force her to make monumental adjustments in her life. For a moment it all seemed too much and far too hard. But she reminded herself of what Kirk had said about wanting to be there every step of the way. She wasn’t in this alone. Not by any means.
Did she have the strength to embark on this journey with him?
By the time she stepped out of the shower and dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, she was no closer to reaching a decision. A delicious aroma wafted from her kitchen, and she followed the scent to see what Kirk was up to.
“Perfect timing,” he said, folding an omelet in the pan and sliding it onto a plate that already had a generous helping of diced fried potatoes, bacon bits and onions on one side.
“I had all these ingredients?” she asked, sliding into a chair at the breakfast bar.
“You can do a lot with just a few key things. When I was growing up, I often helped my mom in the kitchen. She taught me a lot.”
Sally felt a pang for the boy he must have been. Her own upbringing had been so vastly different. They’d always had staff, including a cook, and as far as Sally could recall, her mother had never so much as baked a cookie her entire privileged life.
Kirk reached for a jar of salsa and ladled a little across her omelet before putting her plate down in front of her with a flourish. “There, now eat up before it gets cold.”
She forked up a bit of omelet and closed her eyes in bliss as delicate flavors of herbs and cheese burst on her tongue.
“This is so good,” she said. “Thank you. I hope you made one for yourself, too.”
“I can get something later.”
“Oh, please, you’ve given me far more than I can eat. At least help me with what I have here.”
“How about I whip up another omelet and you can give me some of your potatoes.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
It felt oddly normal to watch Kirk working in her kitchen. He moved with an elegant grace and confidence that she found all too appealing. He withheld his true identity, she reminded herself. And he slept with you knowing exactly who you were.
And now they had made a baby.
She was going to have to press him for an explanation about that night, especially if they were going to move forward together and most especially if she was even going to begin to seriously consider his proposal. But not now. Not tonight. Right at this moment she was struggling to make sense of what her next step would be and how on earth she was ever going to be able to tell her father that she was expecting Kirk’s child.
Kirk took over cleanup duties when they’d finished their impromptu meal. Sally was too tired to argue the point by then. The food had given her a boost, but right now her bed was calling. Once he’d finished, she walked Kirk to the door.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said softly.
“I enjoyed it. I...” He paused a moment as if debating whether or not to say what was on the tip of his tongue. “I enjoy being with you.”
Sally didn’t quite know how to react. He was good company and she felt drawn to him in a variety of ways, but there was so much about him that she didn’t know—or trust. She reached for the door and opened it to let him out.
He was standing close, too close. The lure of his cologne mingled with the heat of his body and wrapped itself around her. She looked up at him and saw the way his pupils dilated as their gazes meshed. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but one moment she was standing there with the door open, the next it was closed and her back was pressed against the wooden surface as his lips hungrily claimed hers.
She gave a small moan of surrender, and in the next moment he was lifting her as if she weighed nothing, the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against her sex, sending jolts of need through her body.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him tighter against her. His mouth was hungry and demanding, and she was equally voracious—meeting the questing probe of his tongue with her own, nipping at his lips. Through the cloud of need that gripped her, Sally became aware that she was no longer pressed against the door and Kirk was carrying her in the direction of her bedroom.
He lowered her to her bed and bent over her.
“I want to see you. All of you,” he murmured even as he peppered small kisses along her jaw and down the column of her throat.
She was at a loss for words. One minute they’d been saying goodbye and the next, here they were, tugging each other’s clothing off as if they couldn’t bear to wait another second before they were skin to skin again. Right now, the only thing that mattered was losing herself in his touch, in the sensations that rippled through her body with his every caress.
“Your