Pregnant on the Upper East Side? / The Billionaire in Penthouse B: Pregnant on the Upper East Side?

But she’d interviewed for jobs with society’s movers and shakers before, and those hadn’t made her this nervous. And thanks to her family and her Vassar education, she knew many über-wealthy people. But still, the unexplainable butterflies tormented her.

The front door of the house opened and a tall, lanky, dark-haired teen came out. Despite the frosty temperature he wasn’t wearing a coat over his short-sleeved Giants T-shirt. Unsmiling, he strolled toward the car as they climbed out.

“He looks just like you,” she told Alex, when he joined her at the end of the long walkway.

Alex’s eyes narrowed and his face seemed to tense. Why?

“I take it that’s your brother?”

“That’s Zack.”

She noted and disregarded the odd note in Alex’s voice. Bringing a woman home to meet the folks implied things they didn’t want implied. Was he as uncomfortable about this as she? “He’s cute. As I imagine you were at seventeen. I’m sure you were a lady-killer in training.”

He shot her an odd look but said nothing, since Zack had reached them. Alex held out his upraised hand, grasped palms with his brother in a boys-from-the-hood kind of handshake and then the males slapped each other’s back in an almost-hug. Zack, obviously playing it cool, didn’t crack a smile, but his excitement over seeing Alex sparkled in eyes the same brown shot with gold as Alex’s.

“Amanda, this is Zack. Zack, my friend Amanda Crawford.”

She shot Alex a quick questioning glance. What was that about? The emphasis he’d put on the word friend implied they were more than friendly, and she didn’t want to give his family the wrong impression. Sure, they were lovers at the moment, but that would soon change. This was merely business with benefits.

Amanda offered her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Zack.”

The teen surveyed her from head to toe. Did she detect a tinge of resentment in his eyes? He briefly shook hands. “You, too.”

Zack turned his attention back to Alex. “The ’rents are waiting inside.”

Alex placed a hand in the small of her back and guided her up the walk and into the house. The foyer was as opulent as the outside of the house had led her to expect. The decor emitted an old-money feel with an intricately patterned hardwood floor, classic antique furniture, luxurious Persian carpets and artwork by Albert Bierstadt and Frederic Church on the soaring wainscoted walls.

Her stomach twisted tighter with each echoing step as she and Alex followed Zack’s loping stride into a paneled den. A man and woman rose with welcoming smiles on their faces from the sofas that flanked the brick fireplace. It was easy to see that Alex and Zack had inherited their mother’s coloring and patrician bone structure. The blueeyed blond man was the exact opposite coloring-wise of the woman by his side.

“Mom, Dad, this is Amanda Crawford. Amanda, my parents, Ellen and Harry Harper.”

Alex’s mother immediately stepped forward and pulled Amanda into an exuberant hug. The warmth of her greeting took Amanda aback. And then Ellen put her at arm’s length, clasped both of Amanda’s hands and beamed as if she’d just been voted Time’s Woman of the Year. “We are so glad Alex has finally brought someone home.”

Apprehension tickled Amanda’s toes.

“Mother, I told you this wasn’t—”

“Oh, hush, Alex. Go pour us drinks, darling. I can’t wait to get to know your Amanda better.”

Amanda’s uneasiness multiplied. She gave Alex a fix-this glare. He shrugged and she wanted to smack him. Instead she forced a smile and turned back to her hostess when Alex surprisingly complied with his mother’s command.

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner, Mrs. Harper.”

“Ellen. We don’t stand on formality here. And we’re happy to have you.”

As soon as Ellen released her, Alex’s father took her place and captured Amanda’s hand in both of his. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Amanda. Your father and I have known each other for years. He’s spoken of you often. When I talked with Theo this afternoon I told him you were coming home with Alex tonight. We couldn’t be more pleased.”

Amanda barely stifled a groan. The evening couldn’t get worse. Alex’s parents and hers thought there was more to this relationship than party planning and stellar, though temporary sex. When it was over, she’d have to listen to her parents’ lectures about yet another failed relationship.

Oh, joy. She couldn’t wait for that.

Five

Amanda Crawford was a professional charmer. The past two days had only reinforced Alex’s opinion that she was the woman for the job of increasing his visibility and connections. No other woman would do.

His family’s overexuberant welcome Friday night had thrown her, but after one panicked glance at him, she’d sailed in like a trouper and worked her magic for the remainder of the weekend, putting everyone at ease and keeping the conversation flowing. She’d even teased Zack out of his surly mood—a mood Zack seemed to exhibit more often than not these days.

Amanda was smoother than the Rémy Martin Louis XIII cognac he brought out to celebrate special occasions. It was only because Alex knew her agenda that he’d recognized the subtle, skillful questioning she’d employed to tease Zack’s hobbies and interests from him this weekend.

Pulling out his BlackBerry, Alex made a note to schedule some one-on-one time with Zack to get to the bottom of the bad attitude. It frustrated him that he could give only brotherly advice. Eighteen years ago he’d wanted nothing to do with fatherhood and would have readily paid for an abortion. And that would have been a mistake. Now he wanted to claim his son, to tell Zack how proud he was of him. But that could never happen.

Shoving away the nagging thoughts, he put his Black-Berry away and studied Amanda’s profile as the taxi neared her apartment building. She had her face turned toward the window, apparently enthralled by the gently falling snow or the bustle of pedestrians. More likely ignoring him.

Except for Amanda Crawford, women didn’t ignore him.

He could feel her putting distance between them. In fact, he had felt the chill since they’d boarded the train to Grand Central Terminal. She’d wanted him to stay in Greenwich, let her travel home alone. But he always saw his women to the door.

The only downside to the weekend was when they’d said good-bye three hours ago, after Sunday brunch. His mother had been wearing a smug smile that told him she was already planning a wedding. His and Amanda’s.

That wasn’t going to happen, but she refused to believe him no matter how many times he’d told her he spent too much time dealing with the financial fallout caused by nasty divorces to be interested in signing up for that headache. It concerned him that his mother had bonded so quickly with Amanda. But that was partially his fault. He’d never taken a woman home before.

The taxi pulled to a stop at 721 Park Avenue. Alex climbed from the car and turned to hand Amanda out of the vehicle. The sight of her long legs beneath a short cashmere dress hit him, along with memories of her kneeling above him in bed, wrapped around him in the shower and stretched out on the rug in front of his fireplace. His heart kicked into overdrive.

He stepped to the back of the car, paid the driver and took Amanda’s suitcase from the cabbie before she could reach it.

“Alex, there’s no need to walk me up. Take the taxi back to the station.”

“We need to discuss Zack’s party. I want to know what you and my mother cooked up when she banished the men of the house to play billiards.”

Amanda hugged her coat tighter around her middle. Snowflakes settled on her fuzzy pink knit hat. “Nothing earth-shattering, but she and Zack gave me some ideas to work with. We have plenty of time to plan his birthday. Your company party is a different story. You change the subject every time I bring that up.”

“Correction—I’ve put the event in your capable hands and I trust you with the details.”

“I know you said you wanted me to handle everything, but I’d really like your input on a few items. Carte blanche sounds like a good idea to an event planner, but I’ve learned the hard way those kinds of events rarely live up to the expectations of the one who’s footing the bill. You have expectations whether you realize it or not.”

Since he wasn’t ready to say good-night, he’d play along. “We’ll grab a couple of coffees and your favorite chocolate muffins, and you can tell me what else you’ve come up with.”

Talking wasn’t all he intended to do. The minute she finished her muffin he’d untie the knot at the waist of her plum colored dress and unwrap her, one pale, delicious inch at a time. If he could wait that long.

His hunger for her these past three months had bordered on an obsession. Why hadn’t having her—repeatedly—lessened his need? It was a weakness he wouldn’t tolerate, and that meant getting past it.

Amanda’s less-than-enthusiastic expression would give a less confident man performance anxiety. But he knew he pleased her in bed. She wasn’t shy about expressing her pleasure or asking for what she needed. And that turned him on like nothing else.

“It’s been a long weekend, Alex. I need to prepare for the upcoming week and—”

“Invite me up, Amanda.”

Her lips parted at his gruff tone. She held his gaze. He could tell she was considering refusing. He stepped closer, invading her space, and nudged his thigh against hers, earning a gratifying hitch of her breath.