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Pregnant By The Ceo
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Derrick leaned back in his oversize desk chair and blew out a long, haggard breath as the door closed behind Ellie and she left his office. He’d expected anger and a hint of distrust. He would have worried if she’d said yes to his fake engagement offer and jumped in. Eagerness was not a bonus in this type of situation.
No, he’d been prepared for all that. The sucker punch of need that slammed in to his gut the second he saw her again? That one had been a surprise.
She’d walked in with her long brown hair tied up behind her head with those strands hanging down, all sexy and loose. She’d worn a thin black skirt and white shirt and all he could think about was stripping both off her. The tight body. Those legs. The way fire lit her hazel eyes as she argued.
It all worked for him.
His attraction to her had sparked the minute she’d opened her mouth. She was tough and smart, and not easy to throw off or to scare. She met every one of his verbal shots with one of her own.
The woman was hot, no question.
She didn’t fit his usual type.
He thought about the women he’d dated over the past few years. All cool, reserved business types. He preferred competent over sparks and heat. Maybe that’s why the last three were now some of this favorite business associates. Friends, even.
He didn’t believe in the idea of grand love. That struck him as nonsense. He’d grown up in a family that yelled. His father pitted him and his two brothers against each other. At his urging, they’d been racing and competing since the cradle. Every mistake had been dissected and fed back to them in an endless loop by their unforgiving father and then by the press that followed the Jameson boys’ every move.
Never mind that Derrick’s grandfather was a disgraced congressman or that their father, Eldrick Jameson, a self-made man with three former wives and a new much-younger one, had made his initial millions, before he lost them, by not always playing fair. Derrick and his brothers were magazine and news favorites, and few in the press gave them favorable coverage no matter what they did.
No, Derrick didn’t believe much in emotions. But he did believe in this company. He’d rebuilt it from the dust left over from his father’s fires and while the old man ran through woman after woman. Derrick labored over every contract and every deal. Gave his life to it. And now he was getting screwed by the old man—again.
His father handed down his requirements for turning the business over, the main one being that Derrick clean up his reputation and resolve “the Noah problem” within ninety days. That meant dealing with Ellie since his PR team thought trying to deal with Noah directly could result in another video.
From the photos he’d seen of her before they met at the party, he’d expected pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way. Quiet. Not someone likely to light his fire. From what he knew about her job situation, he’d expected desperation and a willingness to deal.
He got none of that.
Jackson Richards opened the door and slid inside the office. He wore a stupid grin as he walked across the office and stopped in front of Derrick. “She’s not what I expected.”
Now there was an understatement. “Me, either. And did you call me sir earlier?” That was new and Derrick didn’t like it.
Jackson shrugged. “I thought it fit with the mood you were trying to create.”
“You can skip the overly deferential act. I have enough people around here who do that.”
“Are you engaged yet?” Jackson sounded amused at the idea.
Derrick was happy someone thought the nightmare situation was funny. “She’s difficult.”
“She sounds perfect for you.”
Jackson was one of the few people who could get away with the comment. They’d known each other for years and were about the same age, both in their midthirties. Eldrick had brought Jackson into the company, but Derrick liked him despite that. They’d been friends from the start. With Jackson, Derrick let the firm line between boss and employee blur.
But right now his mind was on the hot brunette with the impressive ass who’d just left his office. “She seems to think I should be able to find a real date.”
“Did you tell her about your father’s conditions for signing the business over to you and how you have something of an impossible deadline in which to meet them?”
The damn agreement. Leave it to Eldrick to make everything difficult. “You mean selling it to me? For a lot of money he can then spend on my new stepmother? Of course not.”
Jackson winced. “It might help your case.”
“I doubt Ellie would be sympathetic.”
“Not if you keep placing false rumors with the Insider.” Jackson shook his head. “I warned you that could backfire. Women hate stuff like that, and with good reason.”
“Speaking of which, is the photographer waiting outside?” That’s why her tardiness mattered. Much later and she would have blown his plans.
“When Ellie figures out you staged this meeting to get a photo of her coming out of your office she’s—”
“Going to yell.” Derrick knew it. He even felt a twinge of guilt over it—one he could easily ignore. “But we know this is about more than a PR job. This is about saving the company and there’s no way I’m letting her know I need her help for something that big. I’m not giving her that power over me.”
“Very romantic.”
“This is business. According to my father’s stipulations, I have to get my brothers in line and in this office, clean up my image and stop Noah Gold’s public hit job, all while single-handedly running a commercial real estate company.”
After a lifetime of aiming his sons at each other, Derrick’s father wanted them to be one big happy family, all working in the office and getting along. And if they didn’t, Derrick would lose the business that meant everything to him. His father already had a buyer outside the family interested. A rich old friend with liquidity and the ability to move fast on the sale.
Just thinking about the requirements of his father’s stupid business proposal touched off a new wave of fury in Derrick’s gut. He literally could forfeit everything because of his father’s stupid whims.
Derrick was about to launch into an angry rant about Eldrick when his office door pushed open. Ellie stepped inside again, looking a little flushed and not a bit worried or afraid of him.
He liked her attitude but the security lapse was a concern. Then he thought about the photographer and wondered if the guy had moved too soon. “How did you get in here?”
“I walked.”
He guessed he should have expected that answer from her. “You shouldn’t be able to wander around the building without an escort.”
She waved the concern away as she approached the desk and held out her hand. “You can worry about your over-the-top paranoid protocol later. Give me the agreement.”
“What?”
She continued to hold out her hand. “If I’m going to consider this—”
“Are you?” That surprised him when almost nothing did.
“—I want to make sure you didn’t add anything weird in here.”
Whatever he planned to say left his head. He suddenly wanted to know what her definition of “weird” might be. “Like what?”
“With you?” She snorted. “Who knows? I don’t trust you.”
Jackson nodded as he grabbed the folder and gave it to her. “A very solid beginning for a relationship.”
Her eyes narrowed as her gaze moved from Jackson to Derrick. “Your guy knows about this nonsense fake dating and engagement offer of yours?”
“Yes, and that document in your hand is nonnegotiable.” Derrick knew from their combined thirty minutes together so far that she’d be whipping out the red pen and revising if he didn’t put a stop to it now.
She shrugged at him as she opened the file and took a peek inside. “Whatever.”
He fought back a sigh. “I’m serious, Ellie.”
Her head shot up and she glared at him. “You’re not going to win every argument.”
“I think I am.” He rarely lost and had no intention of starting now. “I’ll see you at ten tomorrow.”
She turned and headed for the door. “You’ll get my answer when you get it.”
She was gone before Derrick could respond.
Damn, he liked her. The fire and self-assurance were so sexy. She wasn’t yet thirty but she’d grown up fast when she’d lost her parents. He understood what it was like to take on responsibility early. It was one of the reasons he thought they’d be able to handle this arrangement. She would get what she needed and he’d get his obstinate father off his back.
Jackson cleared his throat. “You’re smiling.”
Derrick refused to play this game. “She’s...interesting.”
“This engagement thing is fake, right?”
“Of course.”
“Right.” Jackson exhaled. “That explains the stupid look on your face whenever you see her.”
The DC Insider: Visits to the prestigious Hay-Adams. Visits to his office. It appears Ms. Ellie Gold has not only snagged our Hottest Ticket in Town’s attention but also has him spinning in circles. Well done, Ellie!
He had to be kidding. That thought kept running through Ellie’s mind as she paged through Derrick’s ten—no, fourteen-page agreement while sitting on her couch the next morning.
The thing had tiny print, and rules, and footnotes to new rules and references to yet more rules. The list of restrictions seemed endless. She couldn’t date anyone else. He had final approval over the people she saw on a friendly basis during the “term of their arrangement” and over any work plans she intended to pursue.
She had to act loving, whatever that meant. He hadn’t used the word obey but it was implied in almost every line. And that wasn’t even the most ridiculous part. He thought they’d live together. Actually live together.
She glanced around her small apartment, from one stack of empty boxes to another. She had savings but that would run out if she didn’t find a new job and a cheaper place to live soon. That would be easier if her jackass of an ex-boss hadn’t launched an offensive strike when she filed her internal complaint and fired her first, insisting she came on to him. As if that would ever happen.
The man’s wife had left town to watch over a sick aunt and he’d had his hands all over her by the next day. Kicking him in the crotch had felt great, but being escorted out of the building hadn’t.
His claims were nonsense. He had resources and family money...and a nasty reputation that people spoke about only in whispers and refused to confirm in public. She had documentation of the emails she’d sent after the incident and her complaint. No witnesses to what happened, unfortunately, but she guessed they’d be able to find a pattern of other women once they started digging.
Her lawyer was positive about her chances but cases cost money. She got that but employers weren’t exactly lining up to hire a supposed human resources expert who had been fired for making a play for her boss. She could not let this go. Not when it was likely he would do this to someone else.
Thinking about Joe touched off that familiar spiraling sensation in her stomach. That mix of panic and worry. She liked to eat and have electricity. Which led her to the convoluted mess of an agreement on her lap.
Derrick’s plan struck her as so odd. She had no idea if wealthy people usually did stuff like this, but she didn’t.
She picked up her mug of now-cool tea and prepared to read through the agreement one more time. The doorbell stopped her in the middle of what looked like a never-ending sentence of legalese gobbledygook.
Grumbling, she put down the mug and stood. Slipping her feet into her fluffy pink slippers, she shuffled across the floor. That took about ten seconds since she lived in a studio.
When the doorbell rang again, she skipped her usual check in the mirror by the door. Anyone this impatient deserved to be greeted with the full hair-sliding-out-of-the-ponytail style she had going on.
She peeked through the peephole and froze. Oh, no, no, no.
He was here. Now. At her house.
“Open up, Ellie.” Derrick’s deep voice floated through the door.
She tried not to make a sound.
He sighed loud enough to shake the building. “I can see your shadow under the door.”
“Fine.” She performed the perfect eye roll as she undid the lock. “What?”
He started talking before she fully opened the door. “It’s eleven.”
“I own a clock.” Though she guessed she looked as if she didn’t own a brush. She could practically feel the tangles in her hair without touching it. Add in the shorts and oversize sweater that functioned as her pajamas and she was positive she made quite the picture.
“Are you sure?” His gaze wandered over her and stopped on her slippers. “Those are an unexpected choice.”
“Imagine me kicking you with them.” She stepped to the side and let him in. Why fight it? He was not exactly the type to scamper off.
He slipped past her, smelling all fresh and clean. Today’s suit was navy blue and fit him, slid over every inch of him, perfectly.
He walked to the center of the room then turned around to face her. “You were supposed to be in my office at ten.”
No doubt about it, he was much hotter when he didn’t talk. “No, you commanded that I give you an answer to your absurd fake engagement suggestion by a stated time and I declined.”
“Interesting.”
Since that could refer to anything, she ignored it and focused on another annoying fact. “Hey, how did you know where I live?”
He shot her a look that suggested he found the question ridiculous. “Please.”
That was not even a little reassuring. “Did Jackson follow me?”
“Jackson is in the car.”
Okay... “Is that an answer?”
Derrick looked around the room, from the couch to the rows of bookcases lining the walls and holding her collection of romances and mysteries. He kept going, skipping over the kitchenette and falling on the unmade bed against the far wall.
He turned and stared at her again, his expression blank. “Yes or no, Ellie.”
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. He was talking about the agreement. He needed a fake fiancée and, for whatever reason, thought she fit the description. “It’s not that simple.”
“It actually is.”
Of course he would think so. The entire agreement benefitted him. “We don’t know each other.”
He frowned. “You said that already. So?”
Such a guy. “Really? That’s your answer?”
“Again, for what feels like the tenth time, this is a business arrangement, not an actual romance.”
She joined him by the couch. “Now you sound ticked off.”
“I hate repetition.”
Poor baby. “Do you want a fiancée or not? Because I would be doing this for you, not me.”
“We both know that’s not true. You benefit. Your brother benefits.” Derrick shifted his weight and looked down. He stared at the magazines piled on her floor for a few seconds then pushed them to the side with his foot. “All you need to do is follow a few simple rules.”
She didn’t bother to debate his idea of a “few” because that could take them all day. From his scowl she guessed he wanted to add another provision to the agreement to forbid her slight tendency toward clutter.
“You say that but everyone I know needs to believe it’s real.” She scooped up the agreement and flipped through the pages then began pointing. “Here, look at this.”
He didn’t bother to glance down. “I’m familiar with the contract.”
“Then you know we’re supposed to live together.” Which sounded as absurd this time as when she’d read it earlier.
“My house is big.” His gaze wandered again. This time over to the boxes she’d gathered in case she needed to move in a hurry. “But I prefer you not live out of boxes. Haven’t you been in this apartment for seven months, like right before Noah started working for me?”
She snapped her fingers. “Derrick.”
“Don’t do that. Ever.” He put his hand over hers and lowered it. “What do you want to say?”
The touch, so simple and innocent, shot through her. She felt it vibrate through every cell.
She pulled her hand from his and forced her breathing to slow. “We’ve barely spent an hour together.”
“We’ll have separate bedrooms.”
As if that were the only problem. “But you expect me to act like a fiancée.”
“Whatever that means, yes.”
“It’s a direct quote from paragraph twenty of this thing.” She shook the agreement at him.
“I’ve never been engaged, but I figure we can work out the details as we go. You know, like do the usual things engaged people do.”
She suddenly couldn’t breathe. A big lump clogged her throat and she had no idea why. “Usual?”
“Shows of...affection.”
He may as well have said poison. “You should hear yourself.”
He exhaled as he stepped back. His hand swept through his hair and, for a brief moment, his thick wall of confidence slipped. He looked vulnerable and frustrated. She didn’t think any of it was aimed at her. Not directly. This was more about the circumstances they’d gotten stuck in.
“We both need things, Ellie. You want to help your brother. You have some work issues that I can resolve for you.”
“Are you going to give me a job?” She thought about her bills and her fears about losing her apartment. Growing up she never felt welcome or comfortable. Home hadn’t been a sanctuary, but now it was. The idea she could lose that security left her shaken.
“Yes, as my fiancée.”
With him that did sound like a full-time job. But pretending to have feelings might not be enough. They didn’t run in the same circles. She didn’t know anything about charity functions or season tickets to the Kennedy Center. “People aren’t going to buy this.”
He stepped closer again. This time his hands came up and his palms rubbed up and down her arms, gentle and warm. “We tell them we met while haggling about your brother. There was a spark and...boom.”
“Did you just say boom?”
Instead of backing away, he leaned in. “The legal fees stop. Your brother gets some direction and guidance. Your bills get paid and my shareholders stop whining.”
“You make it sound reasonable in a weird sort of way.” She was practical and everything about this plan, including the very real problem of lying to her brother, was anything but.
“It is.”
“My brother will go ballistic.” And she feared that was an understatement.
“Trust me. We can sell this.”
She didn’t miss the fact his words sounded like a plea. She doubted he begged for anything. He probably didn’t even ask others for help, but he was asking now.
The realization had her stomach tumbling. This close she could see the intensity in his gaze and feel the heat rolling off him.
“You can’t fake a spark.” Her voice sounded breathy even in her ears.
“Let’s see if we need to.”
He lowered his head as his hand slid into her hair. Fingers expertly massaged the back of her neck. His mouth lowered until it hovered over hers. For a second he hesitated, with his eyes searching her face, then his lips met hers. Mouth against mouth, he brushed over hers once. Twice. So enticing.
His scent wrapped around her and his fingers tightened on her. One second they stood a foot apart. The next he closed in. The caress turned to kissing, deep and alive with need. Energy arced between them. Every touch, every press of his lips, proved hot and inviting.
He pulled her tight against him and her common sense faltered. Heat burned through her as her arms slipped up to wrap around his neck. She’d just balanced against his body when he pulled back.
“Right.” He cleared his throat as his chest rose and fell on harsh breaths. “There we go.”
A haze covered her brain. “There we go?”
“Sure. That was fine.” He set her away from him. Increased the distance between them to a few feet.
The man was an idiot.
“Fine?” She could barely feel her legs.
“Yes. I’m confident we can fake it.” He started walking around the room, almost pacing. “We’ll start with dates. In public. Let people see us together.” He nodded as he continued the one-sided conversation. “I’d say in a week we move you into my place and announce the engagement.”
“That’s too fast.” She was impressed her brain even spit that sentence out. Right now she couldn’t think at all. The kiss had blown out every rational thought and had her wanting to slide that tie right off him.
“Well, it looks as if you’re ready to pack.”
“I need to sit.” She plunked down hard on the armrest of the couch and struggled not to run her fingertips over her lips.
“We’ll have a party—”
“No.” Good grief, he was already planning. That was enough to snap her out of it.
“Not a big, flashy Christmas party. Just the normal engagement party.”
It took a few seconds but her common sense came back. Doubt rushed in right behind it.
“First, it’s March. Second, I’m Jewish.” That seemed important to throw in there even in a fake engagement, so she did. “And third... I fear your idea of normal.”
“We invite the people who need to see us.”
People who would later wonder what happened and why it all ended, but he seemed to ignore that part. Fine. It was his problem and they were his friends, so he could figure it out. But she did have one issue she could not ignore. “And what do I tell my brother to keep him from killing you?”
“That we sparked. Tell him a one-night stand turned into something more.”
Derrick. Sex. She blocked the thoughts that rolled through her head. The kiss had been enough to unravel her. Anything more would be a huge mistake. “You want me to lie to him?”
“That’s the point. We lie to him and the public to diffuse Noah’s claims.”
She couldn’t blame Derrick for that requirement. Noah hadn’t exactly been subtle in his attack on Derrick to date. But something about his self-assurance about this agreement and all these details started an alarm bell ringing in her head. “You have this all figured out, don’t you?”
“I thought so.”
She swung her foot, letting the pink slipper flip through the air. “What does that mean?”
“You’re not what I expected.”
She stilled. “Right back at ya.”
“Lucky for us, I can adapt.”
Yeah, lucky her. “You don’t exactly strike me as a guy who enjoys surprises.”
Some of the tension drained from his face as he stared at her. That sexy little smile of his returned. “Maybe I can change.”
She hadn’t known that to work with any guy ever. “Oh, come on.”
He walked up to her and picked the agreement off her lap. “Sign.”
“You know you can’t date anyone else while we’re pretending to like each other, right?” For some reason it was suddenly very important to her that he know if she did this, they did it together. They’d both suffer.
He made a face. “Does it say that?”
“It will when we write in a bunch of notes in the margin and both initial them.” She tapped the agreement. “Basically, every ridiculous provision that applies to me will now apply to you.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Fine.”
That was almost too easy. “That means you’re stuck with me for... Wait, there’s no end time on this agreement.”
His eyebrow lifted. “I’m aware.”
For about the hundredth time since she’d met him yesterday she got the sense she was being outmaneuvered. She hated the sensation. “You get two months of fake fiancée time.”
“That might not be enough. Say at least three.”
She reached down and picked a pen up off her coffee table. She clicked the end and handed it to him. “I’m sure you can adapt to two.”
“It seems you think I’ll be adapting a lot over the next few weeks.” He sounded stunned by the idea.
“I’m happy you realize that. It will make our time together, limited though it may be, more tolerable.”
His smile widened. “We’ll see.”
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