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

“Fine. You can come up for a few minutes.”

They made a quick, silent detour to Park Café and then returned to her building. The doorman watched them from the moment they entered, his narrowed gaze falling on Amanda’s suitcase in Alex’s hand.

“Hello, Henry,” Amanda greeted him.

The doorman nodded. “Good afternoon, Ms. Crawford, Mr. Harper.”

Alex nodded a greeting and escorted Amanda across the white marble-floored lobby and around the doorman’s desk. He had learned to trust his first impressions of people and there was something about the man’s eyes and body language that bothered him.

Amanda looked up at Alex as they crossed the lobby. “I cannot get over how much your brother looks like you. It’s almost as if he’s a carbon copy. He has your coloring, your gestures and even a similar speech pattern.”

The back of Alex’s neck prickled. She had spent a lot of time with Zack. Had she guessed the truth? “We’re brothers. Siblings have similarities.”

“Since I don’t have any brothers or sisters I wouldn’t know. You both look exactly like your mother. I couldn’t find any trace of your father in either you or Zack.”

He didn’t want to pursue this conversation. He hit the elevator call button since her hands were full with the coffee and muffin bag and her oversize tote bag.

“Did I tell you how much I enjoyed having you in my bed all weekend?” He leaned toward her and pitched his voice low so Henry couldn’t overhear.

Her breath caught and desire expanded her pupils, igniting a burn in his gut. She darted a quick glance over his shoulder toward the doorman’s desk and then hit him with a small naughty smile that knocked the air from his lungs. “You might have mentioned it. Once or twice.”

Hunger pulsed through him. “I want to stay tonight, Amanda.”

Her cheeks flushed. The elevator doors opened. She hustled into the car, pivoted on her spike-heeled ankle boots and faced him as the doors closed. “You have to stop doing that. We’re temporary, remember?”

He stroked her jaw with a fingertip and then bent to sip from her lips once, twice, a third time. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. He drew back until only the tips of their noses touched.

“Stop telling you I want you? Or stop spending the night? I’m not moving in, Amanda. I want to be lost in you again. We’re good together.”

Her head tipped back to rest against the wall. Staring up at him, she swallowed, licked her lips and inhaled a shuddery breath.

“You can stay tonight. But, Alex, when your party ends, we end. Okay? I’m not looking for forever. And neither are you. Let’s not try to make something out of this temporary diversion that it’s not. Your parents already think…Well, you’re going to have to convince them that it’s not going to happen.”

Interesting to be on the receiving end of that comment for a change. Interesting. But not enjoyable. “No. It’s not. I don’t do marriage.”

He wanted her for more than a few weeks, but he’d worry about changing her mind later. At the most they’d last a few months. He’d never met a woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Not even Zack’s mother. Especially not Zack’s mother. Chelsea Brooks was one devious, deceitful, greedy bitch. Too bad he hadn’t known that before their affair.

But Amanda wasn’t like Chelsea in any way. He leaned as close as the carrier of coffee Amanda held between them would allow and lowered his head. She met him halfway. Her lips parted and her tongue met his. Silky, slick, seductive. Need rose within him. He angled his head to deepen the kiss. Her scent filled his nose. Releasing her suitcase, he burrowed his hands beneath her heavy coat to the warmth of her waist and dug his fingers into the soft cashmere of her dress. His palms wicked up her heat, spreading it up his arms and through his torso.

A few months of this would be enough.

It would have to be. But at the moment his hunger for her seemed insatiable.

A chime announced they’d reached Amanda’s floor. He lifted his head and inhaled a sobering breath a second before the doors glided open. The interruption was a good thing, since he wasn’t into public displays of affection.

How did she do that to him? Make him forget where he was and that the elevator probably had security cameras? In his business, image was everything. He couldn’t afford to be caught with his pants down—literally or metaphorically. But then again, no one at 721 Park cared what he did. He wasn’t a resident. And in Greenwich he kept a low profile. The press ignored him to focus on the celebrities who made their home within the town’s borders.

He released Amanda, grabbed the handle of her suitcase and followed her out. He had to admit he found the slightly dazed look in her grey eyes gratifying. Nice to know he wasn’t the only one in a hormonal fog.

But like the weather, this fog would eventually lift.

Why had she let Alex talk her into this? Amanda asked herself as she unlocked her apartment door.

Because he gave you that look—the one that deepsixes your ability to think. A look he’s probably been perfecting since he was younger than Zack.

And he bribed you with a muffin.

God, you’re easy.

After sixty almost uninterrupted hours of Alex’s company, she needed to get away from the man. Watching him interact with Zack, she’d seen a side of him this weekend that she could have lived without—a caring, gentle, understanding side that had gone a long way toward eroding Alex’s player image. And she couldn’t afford to see him as anything less than a player. Alex was all about temporary and so was she. She liked it that way.

She shouldered open her door and marched straight into her kitchen, where she deposited her tote, the coffee and the bakery bag on the table. Alex followed.

“Have a seat. I’ll get your file. It’s in my office.”

He caught her elbow as she passed. “Eat first. I know you like your muffins hot and fresh from the oven.”

“That’s because the chocolate chips will still be gooey and delicious.” Thinking about it made her mouth water. She shrugged out of her coat. He took it from her and laid hers and his over the back of the extra chair.

Get it over with. Feed him. Update him. Get rid of him.

While she grabbed plates from the cabinet he tore open the bag. The scent of chocolate and roasted walnuts filled the room. Her stomach growled as she climbed onto one of the high stools. Alex did the same beside her. Their knees bumped beneath the table, sending a spray of sparks northward.

Good grief. She’d exhausted a year’s quota of orgasms this weekend. How could she still get all shivery and hot from just bumping knees with the man?

Doing her best to ignore him in his charcoal cashmere V-neck sweater and snug black jeans, she peeled away the muffin’s paper. Melted chocolate quickly coated her fingers. If she were alone she’d lick her fingers. But with Alex here she had to act like less of a glutton.

She rose to find some napkins, but Alex caught her wrist, pulling her between his splayed knees. His desirefilled gaze locked with hers as he lifted her hand to his mouth and laved her fingertip with a slick swipe. She shivered with want. He moved on to the next messy fingertip and the next.

Her eyelids grew heavy and drifted closed. Not good. Lack of sight only accentuated her other senses. She lost herself in his scent, the brackets of his strong thighs around her hips, the hot caress of his tongue swirling around each fingertip and the feel of his hand on the thin skin of her wrist. He couldn’t possibly miss her racing pulse beneath his thumb.

She forced her eyes open. He finished the left hand and moved to her right. Desire flushed his cheekbones with dark color, making her feel hotter and gooier than the muffin’s melted chips.

But she didn’t protest because she couldn’t find her voice. He dipped his finger into a glistening melted chocolate spot in his muffin and then painted her lips with a slow sweep. The intense concentration of his dark eyes on her mouth made breathing nearly impossible. He bent his head and licked and nibbled off the chocolate.

She nearly collapsed into a puddle at his feet.

Stop him. Stop this. Wanting him this much can’t be good.

The warm, wet, slow pass of his tongue dragged a moan from her. He took advantage of her parted lips to deepen the kiss. She savored the delicious combination of chocolate and Alex. But then he drew back. Relieved to escape the onslaught—and yes, a little disappointed, too—she stared at him.

A slow smile worked its way across his lips. He pinched off a morsel of muffin and brought it to her lips. “Open.”

She dumbly complied. The rich, chocolaty taste filled her mouth. Her taste buds did their usual dance. But she would rather be tasting the man tormenting her. She swallowed. As if he’d read her mind, his mouth covered hers again. He devoured her mouth with sips, nips and swirls. Her thoughts whirled like fruit in a blender. He had her off balance mentally and physically.

A tug at her waist sobered her. She jerked back. “What are you doing?”

“Wait and see.” He pulled again at the tie of her wraparound dress. Cool air swept her torso as he brushed the fabric aside.